Can't rain all the time

Fic: His Father's Keeper - part 2 - Harry/Draco, Lucius/Draco implied, PG13

2009-11-14T02:20:37Z

Title: His Father’s Keeper
Author: elfflame
Prompt: #3 (inspired by: The King Who Wished to Marry His Daughter and Catskin).
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Lucius/Draco
Summary: When the Malfoys withdraw from society after the war, Harry wants to find out why.
Rating: PG13 for implications
Disclaimer: This story not intended to infringe, no money is being made. The characters and places do not belong to me. I’m just borrowing them for a bit.
Warning(s): Implication of murder and incest
Word Count: 11,538
Author's Notes: Notes in part 1

Draco’s world was crashing down around his ears. The thought that anyone knew was bad enough. The knowledge that Harry Potter, of all people, was the one to find out…that was far worse.

“Just…leave us alone, Potter. No one asked for your ‘help.’”

“So you’re telling me you like him using you like that?”

“He’s not using me!”

“Looks like it from here, Draco.”

“Fuck you, Potter!”

“No thanks, Malfoy. I don’t have a fetish for little daddy’s boys.”

“Then what are you after, Potter? I’m not in the mood for ‘saving the day’ fetishists. Nor did I ask for your help.”

Apparently, Potter didn’t know how to respond to that. He blinked, then his expression shifted. “Yeah, well, someone needs to help you. You’re obviously out of your depth. He’ll drive you as mad as he is.”

That had Draco seeing red to the point where he could barely see anything—just Potter’s smirking face. “My father is not mad!” He drew his wand and pointed it at him. “Get out!”

His anger was enough to push Potter away, and this time, as soon as he disappeared, Draco slammed the door shut. What was he going to do? If Potter came back… Well, if he came back, he wouldn’t answer, that was all. That would work, wouldn’t it? And if he came back with others? Well, Draco would just have to deal with that when the time came.

* * *

Harry was furious. With Malfoy. With himself. He stood outside the gates for several minutes before he finally decided to do what he’d promised Kingsley back when he’d first started on this, and go talk to him.

Of course, Harry had completely forgotten it was the weekend. And given it was Saturday, no one was about when he arrived at the Ministry. Granted, it meant that he didn’t have to deal with Ron just yet, but it also meant that Kingsley could be anywhere right now.

He apparated back to his flat, then owled Kingsley, hoping he was home. And then he began to pace. There was just too much to think about. Lucius and his obvious illness. Draco’s need to protect his father, despite what he’d done. And then there was the way Lucius referred to him on the parchment—as though Draco were Narcissa. Harry had no doubt that Draco had taken on a more feminine look to encourage that delusion. And that had been the physical differences Harry’d noticed that couldn’t be attributed to stress. The question was, was he doing it because he wanted Lucius, or was he doing it to keep Lucius under control?

And then there was the reason the wards had activated. Harry had infuriated Draco, that was true. But that hadn’t been the only reason. From the moment Draco had opened the door, there had been a need to do more than just help Draco. Enough to distract him from what he was saying until it was too late, and Draco’s fury had been enough to push him away once more.

What Harry couldn’t understand was why he felt the need to help Draco. They hated each other. And yet…he realized he didn’t. Not any longer. Maybe it was the memory of that night on the tower, when Draco had lowered his wand. Maybe it was the memory of their fight in the bathroom. The sight of Draco crying, and then, worse still, bleeding all over the bathroom floor. Or maybe it was the memory of Draco’s face in the Prophet—the photo of him clinging to his mother, desperate to save her.

The memory of Narcissa’s whisper in his ear the night Harry had died with Voldemort rang in his ears. Is he alive?

Harry closed his eyes. There was just something about Malfoy. He had to help him. If he could. If Draco would just let him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock, and Harry went to see who it was, smiling when he saw the Minister in the hall. “Kingsley. You didn’t have to come. I could have come to see you.”

“That’s all right, Harry. I was on my way to the match, so I thought I’d stop by first. What’s happened?”

Harry let the Minister inside, then led him to the living room. “It’s Malfoy, sir.”

“So you’ve found out what he’s up to, then?”

Harry frowned. “Well…not exactly. But…that’s the thing. He’s not really up to anything.”

“He’s not? Then why…?”

“There’s still a problem, sir. You see…Draco…he’s been watching his father since his mother died. But I think it’s more than he can handle. He needs help. I just don’t know if I can get him to agree to it.”

Kingsley was the one frowning now. “Help? Harry…”

“Look…I admit. I was suspicious. But he’s not the boy I remember from Hogwarts. Not even in our sixth year. He’s been protecting his father this whole time. That’s…why they’ve been so secluded. I was hoping…maybe between us, we could find him a nurse? So that Draco could be free of having to deal with him all on his own?”

“How can you be sure, Harry?”

“Just trust me, Kingsley.” If he was going to get Draco to trust him, this was something he couldn’t tell anyone about. Even the Minister for Magic. “He needs help.”

Kingsley was silent for a moment, then looked up to meet Harry’s eyes. “All right. So what do you want to do, then?”

“Do you trust me to handle it, sir?”

“Of course. But you sounded as though you needed my help in this.”

“Well…a bit. I was hoping you might help me find someone to help Mister Malfoy. Someone reputable, and who won’t go telling tales.”

Kingsley smiled. “I can do that. I’ll have a name for you Monday morning, all right? Now go relax. Are you coming to the match?”

Harry winced. “Probably not wise. Ginny and I just broke up. Not sure if my ticket would even work…”

“Broke up? Anything you need to talk about?”

“No. I’ll be fine, sir. Go and enjoy the match. I hope Ginny makes a good showing. Root for her for me?” Besides, Harry had a few things he wanted to do now. And none of them had to do with getting into a fight with Ron, which would be certain if he went to the match. “I’ll see you Monday, then, sir.”

“All right, Harry.” He gave Harry a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll let my assistant know to expect you Monday, then.” He nodded, then apparated away.

Once he was alone, Harry felt a bit at a loss. He couldn’t exactly go back to the Manor. Not until he had a name for Draco. Otherwise, the last visit would just repeat itself.

After some time, he decided to clean the flat. It needed a good scrub down. He was halfway through the process of cleaning when there was a bang on his door.

He barely made out Ron on the other side of the door when a fist hit him square on the jaw. The world went black for a second, then he stumbled away from the door. “What the fuck, Ron?”

“How could you, Harry? She’s my sister!”

Harry blinked up at him with tear-blurred eyes. “Every couple has issues.”

“Well, not all of them have to break up over them!”

“Ron…We’ve been fighting like this for months. It was just a matter of time. We’re not like you and Hermione.”

“You could have tried!” This time, Harry saw the fist coming toward him, and caught it before it could connect.

“I did! Why do you think we’ve been together so long? But Ron…it wasn’t working. All the time we spent together was spent fighting!”

“And apparently, you’d rather spend your time trying to get something on Malfoy than trying to understand my sister?” He pulled his hand free of Harry’s grip, rubbing his knuckles.

Harry sighed. “The two have nothing to do with each other, Ron.”

“Don’t they? She said she came to visit and you turned her away because you wanted to help Malfoy?”

“God damn it, Ron! I was working on a case! Surely you’ve had times when you got caught up in a case?”

“Not about Malfoy!”

“What the hell are you on about, Ron? It’s a case!”

“You’re obsessed with that git! You always have been! Especially since sixth year. Hermione agrees. Whatever it is, let it go, Harry. Then come back with me to the match and tell Ginny you didn’t mean it.”

“I can’t,” Harry said, knowing the words would likely only make his best friend even more upset.

“What? Why not?”

“Because I did mean it, Ron. She and I will both be happier without each other. No more fighting, no more unfulfilled expectations, and she won’t have to deal with my ‘obsessions’ any more.”

Ron’s ears had gone scarlet, and he stared at Harry for a long time before speaking, his voice cold in a way Harry hadn’t heard in quite some time. “Fine. When you’re ready to see sense, you know where to find us, don’t you?” Then he turned on his heel and apparated away.

Harry sank down on the couch. This was a disaster. He’d never meant to hurt Ginny. He wanted what was best for her. He also didn’t want to have to defend himself at every turn. Hopefully, after a few days to calm down, Ron would realize he was right. The thought made Harry snort. Right. And maybe pigs would fly. He flopped onto his back and closed his eyes. His best bet now would be to get Hermione to convince him that he’d done the right thing. Without the two of them breaking up as well.

Groaning again at the thought, Harry pushed himself to his feet. Did he have any firewhiskey?

The rest of the weekend was spent in a haze of drinking and watching the telly. He vaguely recalled food at some point, but little more than chips and dip. When he woke on Monday, his head felt as though it were going to fall from his neck. Even summoning a hangover potion hurt. But he remembered something about a meeting with Kingsley, and that he couldn’t miss. No matter what he was dealing with.

It wasn’t until he got to Kingsley’s office that he remembered why he was here. Draco. The nurse for Draco’s father. Which he might not even be willing to accept. Harry almost turned and left, then paused. If he’d already lost everything else, he might as well go one step farther, right? What more could it hurt?

Kingsley’s assistant raised an eyebrow at him, but then put a smile on his face and nodded. “He’s told me to just send you right in, Mister Potter.”

Harry nodded and knocked at the door before entering. “Hey, Kingsley.”

“Harry. Good. I…” Kingsley looked up at Harry, and the smile he was wearing disappeared. “Harry…what happened?”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“You look like someone took a beater’s bat to your face.” He got up from his desk and came closer.

Harry winced. It was amazing how the pain had just become part of the whole hangover so that he’d forgotten. He hadn’t even looked in the mirror this morning, he’d been so hung over. “Ron,” he said. “He wasn’t too pleased with me.”

“And you decided you deserved it?”

“Um…no. I…kind of forgot. Wasn’t my best weekend ever.”

Kingsley nodded. “Would you like me to heal it for you?” he asked.

“I’d like that, thanks. People stare at me enough as it is.”

“Sit.” He pulled out his wand, waiting until Harry was still before casting the healing charm. Once it was cast, he moved back around his desk. “Is this going to be a problem? Between you and Ron, I mean.”

“To be honest, sir, I don’t know. He hasn’t been this angry with me since…fourth year, I think. Though if this repeats that pattern…we should be okay. He’ll just avoid me. Mostly.”

“I’ll count on you to keep it from getting out of hand, then,” Kingsley said, sitting down. “Now…about this healer for Malfoy…”

Harry sat up straighter. “Yes. Were you able to find someone?”

“Not exactly. But I have a healer that Malfoy can speak to about the issues his father is having. None of them would commit until they knew the extent of the issues.”

Damn. Harry’d hoped he’d have a name to give Draco. He doubted he’d be able to convince him to take him to St Mungo’s for a diagnosis. Still, he had to try. “Thank you, sir. I’ll see what he says.”

“Do let me know if there are any further problems, Harry.”

“I will, sir.”

Harry walked slowly towards his office, worried what he might find there. When he saw Hermione, he sighed. Partially in relief, and partially in exasperation. He really didn’t want to discuss this yet again. “Not now, Hermione…”

“Ron said he punched you.”

“Well, if you’re here to see the evidence…”

“Of course not, Harry. I told him he was an arse, and that if he didn’t apologize, he was going to have to move back in with his mother. Shut him up, at least. I’ll work on the rest.”

Well, that answered which way Hermione would lean in this. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I think you’re making a mistake, too. But then, you’re entitled. Just…don’t do anything you might regret later?”

“Hermione…she basically told me it wasn’t worth my time to help someone!”

“You mean Malfoy.”

“So what if it’s Malfoy? He’s not hurting anyone! It’s not like I’d help him take over the world or something horrible like that.”

“You can’t know that for sure, Harry…”

Harry rolled his eyes at her. “I’m not blind, okay? Just trust me. I know what’s going on, and that’s not what he’s up to.”

Hermione sighed. “We’re just worried about you, Harry…”

“No, you’re meddling, and Ron’s furious. And Ginny…” He looked away. “I think that’s been over for a while, and we just didn’t realize it.”

“Not if you’d give it a chance, Harry. She adores you.”

“You mean she adores telling me how I do things wrong! That’s all I hear from her any more. About how I can be a better boyfriend for her. Well, maybe I don’t want to be!” Harry blinked, shocked at his own vehemence. He hadn’t quite realized just how angry he’d been with her. The disappointment at himself had been so much easier to channel.

Hermione looked surprised, as well. Then sad. “Harry, maybe…”

“No. The more I think about it, the more I know I did the right thing. Maybe someday. When we’re both a bit more grown up. Who knows. But we’re not ready. Not for each other, at least.”

Biting her lip, Hermione watched him for a moment before she answered. “I suppose. Maybe some time apart will help. You know we just want you to be happy, Harry.”

“Maybe. Sometimes I wonder if all girls do is plan out how to get everyone into a couple so that men will always be under someone’s control…”

“Harry…”

“I didn’t mean that, Hermione. I’m just…” Tired. Angry. Ready to be done with this conversation. “I have work to do.”

She nodded slowly. “All right. But promise me that you’ll come to lunch sometime this week?”

“Yeah…All right.”

Hermione smiled bleakly. “I’ll see you later, then.” She waited for a moment, getting no more than a nod from Harry before she finally turned and left.

Harry sank into his chair and put his head in his hands. Maybe everyone was right. Was he ruining his life? Draco didn’t want his help, after all. But Ginny and he had been going downhill for ages. The question was, would Ron have taken it any better if they’d broken up without this connection to Draco?

And why did everyone seem to think that it meant he wanted to do anything more than help someone? So what if he wasn’t able to let Draco deal with all this on his own? Draco obviously wasn’t able to manage on his own. Or Lucius would be doing better, wouldn’t he?

Harry looked down at the scrap of parchment Kingsley had given him. Best to get it over with, he supposed. He stood, then went to let his assistant he would be out until after lunch, then apparated to the Manor once more. All he could do was hope that things didn’t go even worse this time.

* * *

Draco had known it would only be a matter of time before Potter returned, though he had hoped, when he hadn’t seen him over the weekend, that maybe he would just let it go. Still, when he heard the front door chime, he knew who it would be.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone, Potter. Can’t you understand simple English?” he said when he opened the door.

Potter steeled himself visibly. “I wanted to stop by because I have the name of someone I thought you could contact for help with your father.”

“My father is fine, Potter. Now leave.”

“No. I won’t. And if you’ll notice, the wards seem to realize you need my help, Draco. They wouldn’t have let me through otherwise.”

“They aren’t that intelligent, Potter. They’re passive protection, rather than active. But if you would like to see active…” He drew his wand. “Get out. I don’t want the name, and I don’t want you here.

Potter didn’t bother drawing his own wand. He grabbed Draco’s wrist, pushing it up and out. “No. I can’t let you do that, Draco.”

Draco clawed at his hand to try to get free. “Let go of me! I’ll hex your face off! I hate you!”

Potter grabbed his other hand to stop him. “Stop it! I’m trying to help you! Why can’t you just accept that you need help?”

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s! Father is fine!”

“So you like being used by him? Being raped by him?”

The words hit Draco like a physical blow. It took a moment to find the breath to respond. “He…doesn’t! He doesn’t! Let me go!” His struggle to break free took on new energy, and Potter’s hands tightened on his wrists.

Draco found himself pushed against the wall, still battling to free himself. Finally, Potter pulled both hands over his head. “Calm down, damn it,” he growled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Funny way of showing it. Let go!”

“No.” Potter pressed against him to try to keep him from squirming away, and Draco went still. He blinked up at Potter, panting, and was trying to choose between spitting in his face and attempting to knee him in the groin when Harry leaned in and kissed him. Unable to process what was happening, Draco didn’t realize he was responding at first. When he did, he pulled back and looked away.

“Let go of me,” he whispered.

Potter pulled back, looking shocked at what he’d done. “Shit. Draco…I didn’t…”

Draco met his eyes. “Didn’t mean to kiss me? Then what did you mean?”

“I don’t…look…”

“No, Potter. You look. I didn’t ask for your help. I certainly didn’t ask for you to kiss me.” Never mind that it had felt amazing. “Just…let us be?”

“Draco…please let me help you? He’s hurting you. At least talk to the healer about it?”

“How do you know he’s hurting me? Maybe I enjoy it.” Just saying the words made him feel sick to his stomach, but he met Harry’s eyes, hoping that that would convince him.

“Right. So you must respond to every man that way when they kiss you out of the blue?”

The anger surged in Draco again. Had Potter just kissed him like that to trick him? “That was why you did that?”

“No! I didn’t mean to. I just…” He sighed. “I don’t know why I did, Draco. I just wanted to.” His face coloured slightly. “It just happened.”

Draco tried to push him away, then realized Potter was still holding him against the wall. He glowered to hide the confusion about how easy that had been to forget. But maybe he could use it against Potter? “Just let me go. And maybe I won’t have you charged for attacking me. Wouldn’t want to lose that precious job of yours, would you?”

Potter backed off, releasing Draco’s hands, but he still didn’t leave. His face and body language showed how uncomfortable he was. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Seeing Potter so sheepish over it helped Draco regain his equilibrium. “Yes. So you’ve said. Repeatedly. Now…do I need to Floo the Ministry, or are you going to leave on your own?”

“I will. As soon as you answer two questions.”

That sounded like trouble. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I’m not leaving, and I’ll tell Kingsley why.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“If you won’t let me help you, Draco…”

If it was a choice between seeing his father incarcerated and answering Potter’s questions, there was no choice. “Fine. What questions?”

“The first is…if I were such a danger to you, why aren’t the wards working to get rid of me?”

“Because they’re old. They don’t always work well. Especially these days.”

“Funny…I always thought old meant stronger.”

“Not if they’re not kept up well, Potter. Now…what is your second question?”

Potter moved a step closer, and Draco found himself backing against the wall once more. “Why did you kiss back?”

The flicker of emotion that flowed through Draco wasn’t easily identifiable. Worse, he could feel his cheeks heat. “What?”

“You heard me. You didn’t have to return the kiss. But you did. Why?”

“Why does it matter, Potter?” Draco asked, looking away from him.

“Because you don’t like me, Draco. We both know that. So there are two reasons you would do that. Either you are interested in me…or your father’s got you so trained that you don’t even think about your responses any more.” He looked sad as he said it, as though he hated the thought of hurting Draco—but that couldn’t be the reason…could it?

“Why do you care?” Draco asked desperate now to be done with this conversation.

“Well…if you do like me, I…”

“Well, I don’t!”

Potter took a moment to cover up his obvious disappointment. Was Potter actually interested in him? But Draco shook off the question. It didn’t matter, since he didn’t like Potter.

“Then it means that you need help, Draco. And even the wards here seem to realize it. If you won’t let me help you, at least contact the healer so they can help your father?”

The thought of anyone else knowing about this was horrifying. “No! No one else can find out! They’ll put him away again!” Especially if they knew the full truth. “Please, Potter…”

“Then let me help you. You need to get away from him.”

“He’s my father! He doesn’t…I can’t let him be hurt.” Not any more than he already was.

“Then let us help him. And you, Draco,” Potter said softly.

“Why would you help us?” Draco asked. It had been so long since he’d been able to trust anyone.

“Because if anyone can, I can.”

Draco knew it was true. People listened to Potter because of who he was. If anyone had a chance of getting Lucius the help he needed, it was Potter. As much as Draco hated to admit it. “You have to swear…that you’ll do everything you can to help him. You won’t just let them throw him back in that place.”

“I swear it, Draco.”

They were the most painful words Draco could remember speaking. “All right, then.”

“All right?”

“You can help us. And once he’s better, you’ll leave us alone?”

Potter was silent for a moment, then nodded. “If that’s really what you want.”

“Why would I want anything else?”

“I don’t know,” Potter said, his voice soft. “But maybe that will change. Things do sometimes.”

“Maybe.”

* * *

What followed wasn’t easy. Nor was it quick.

Draco still didn’t want to speak to the healers, but finally after several more conversations, Harry convinced him to go. Even after Draco did go, finding an appropriate healer nurse was not a simple prospect.

The two weren’t exactly friendly, but as they worked to find Lucius a nurse, they did grow closer. Even after a nurse was found, Harry continued to visit. Draco was wary around him, keeping him at arm’s length as the two of them spoke. But he no longer turned him away when he came to visit.

Harry spent hours trying to figure out why he had done what he had that day. Had it been an impulse? A way to shut Draco up? Or was it something else?

Then there was the fact that Draco needed to heal from what his father had forced on him. He hardly needed someone else forcing him into the same position.

He was relieved when Draco started to spend more time with his old friends again, but the knowledge that Draco wouldn’t need him any more hurt. He began to stay away, wanting to give Draco space, and hoping that he would get over his own feelings about the other man. They just weren’t welcome, after all.

Instead, he threw himself into his work. So when he arrived at his flat one day, about a week since the last time he’d visited the Manor, to find Draco waiting for him in the hall, he was surprised. “Draco?”

“Potter. I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to break in.”

“Break in? Is something wrong?”

“I’d rather not discuss this out here, if you don’t mind?”

Harry blinked at him. “Er…right.” He quickly unlocked the door, letting Draco in ahead of him, then closing the door behind him. “What’s happened? Has something gone wrong with your father? Do we need to find another healer?”

Draco rolled his eyes then shook his head as he looked around. “Apparently not having Weasley’s sister about means no longer cleaning up your flat?” He asked with a smirk.

Harry flushed. He and Ron had made an uneasy truce at Hermione’s insistence, and Ginny had thrown herself headlong into the dating scene. Every time he saw her, she was with someone new. He was surprised that he felt no jealously at all about that. He supposed that meant it really was over. For him, at least. She still shot him venomous looks every time she caught a glimpse of him. “I’ve been busy.”

“Have you? Is that why you haven’t been by to bother me lately?”

“It’s barely been a week, Draco. Besides…if I was bothering you, why do you care?”

Draco turned to meet his gaze. “I didn’t expect the Great Harry Potter to give up that easily…”

“Give up?” Harry asked, confused.

“Good god, Potter. You’re so dense. Do I have to do everything myself?”

“Everything…Draco what are you talking about? I’m the one who had to bully you into finding your father a healer…”

“Oh…Shut. Up.” And with that, Harry found himself pressed against the wall, Draco kissing him. Unlike Draco’s tentative response the first time that they had kissed, after a moment, Harry was quick to respond, his arms going around the other man and pulling him close.

Harry’s head spun when he finally pulled away. “Draco…? I thought…”

“You think too much, Potter. Or…not enough…I’m not sure which. But either way, it’s definitely the wrong amount.”

Harry huffed. He’d only backed off because he thought he’d made a mistake. But if Draco was here throwing himself at him… He turned them around, pushing Draco against the wall, then kissed him, deeper this time than he’d allowed himself the first two times.

“Mff! Potter…”

Harry pulled back to meet his eyes. Maybe this was just what they both needed now. “Draco?”

Rumpled and flushed, Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Shut. Up.” Then Harry kissed him again. The rest of the world could wait for a bit. For now, Harry wanted his reward.

Fic: His Father's Keeper - part 1 - Harry/Draco, Lucius/Draco implied, PG13

2009-11-14T02:16:05Z

Title: His Father’s Keeper
Author: elfflame
Prompt: #3 (inspired by: The King Who Wished to Marry His Daughter and Catskin).
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Lucius/Draco
Summary: When the Malfoys withdraw from society after the war, Harry wants to find out why.
Rating: PG13 for implications
Disclaimer: This story not intended to infringe, no money is being made. The characters and places do not belong to me. I’m just borrowing them for a bit.
Warning(s): Implication of murder and incest
Word Count: 11,538
Author's Notes: Apparently I am incapable of small stories right now. Thank you to Ceria and K for all their help in hand-holding and Betaing. I hope everyone will enjoy! My contribution to the Bottom!Draco Fairy Tale fest, now that the reveals have been posted.

With the end of the war, the Wizarding World celebrated its end, mourned their losses, and punished those deemed responsible for those losses. The Malfoys and their fellow Death Eaters were all tried for their crimes, and most were found guilty and returned to Azkaban to live out the remainders of their very long lives.

Draco’s sentence was reduced to community service helping rebuild Hogwarts and Diagon Alley due to the fact that his major crimes had been committed when he was still underage. Narcissa, who had never committed any true crimes, was released on her own recognizance, and began the long process of refurbishing their Manor from what their former Lord and his followers had done.

Lucius’s punishment, long debated, was determined to be house arrest. Voldemort had already punished him more than the Wizarding world could, after all. By destroying his wand, he had reduced his ability to control his magic, and in essence made him a squib. All wand sellers were forbidden to sell the Malfoys a wand for him, and he was sent home to the Manor.

Between Lucius’s punishment and the fines placed on the family, the Malfoys were left struggling financially, and withdrew from Society. After Draco’s community service had ended, few in the community saw any of them again.

At least, not until the day Draco apparated to St Mungos with Narcissa in his arms. He told the healers as well as the Aurors who had later been called to investigate that she had fallen down the main staircase of the Manor. By the time healers got to her, there was nothing they could do for her.

A small funeral was held, and the Prophet reported how Lucius seemed barely able to stand without his son’s help. Some speculated that it was not grief, but the loss of magic that made him so weak. Others suspected that it was just a façade, and that he had personally been the one to cause her injuries, and should be thrown into Azkaban where he had belonged all along.

Once again, the Malfoys disappeared from the public eye, and this time, no one seemed to have any sighting of them. They became one of those urban legends—Malfoy sightings appeared in both the Quibbler and the Prophet. Lucius had been seen wearing his Death Eater robes torturing children and family pets. Draco had been seen on the grounds of Hogwarts, talking to Dumbledore’s tomb. Narcissa’s ghost had appeared in the Wizengamot’s chambers. None of them were ever officially proven or disproved. But that didn’t stop the two periodicals from printing the stories.

* * *

Harry was obsessed. Every time a new article about the Malfoys appeared, he read it ten times over before tucking the clipped article into a file that he’d been keeping on them since they had first disappeared. He’d told Ron and Hermione that he was just trying to make sure that the Malfoys weren’t just trying to lull the Wizarding world into a false sense of security before rising once more, powerful again.

His friends had glanced at each other at the explanation. Ron had shaken his head, and Hermione had sighed in that way that annoyed Harry so much. Why couldn’t they understand? The Malfoys were dangerous! He needed to make sure that they didn’t become the center of the next dark rising!

Still, they didn’t try to convince him to stop. Not like Ginny. They had constant fights about Malfoy. “Why do you care, Harry? He’s been punished! This is ridiculous!” Finally, he’d stopped talking to her about it. But he didn’t stop collecting the articles.

He never let it interfere with his work, though. On the few occasions they captured a stray Death Eater who had escaped the first round-up after the final battle, he might add a question here or there about the Malfoys—officially to see what role the Death Eater in custody had played in the final days of the war, but also to find out if they had been up to anything new since, and to sound out if perhaps, just perhaps, the Malfoys had resumed the role of leader for them. Unfortunately, he learned little he hadn’t already known before.

It was frustrating, and Harry was getting nowhere. So when Rabastan Lestrange was captured, Harry grabbed at the chance. Again, he got nothing truly new from the man in regards to the Malfoys, but the fact that Lestrange was vaguely connected to the Malfoys meant that he could use it as an excuse to ask the Minister for permission to take a look in at the doings at Malfoy Manor.

Kingsley was nonplussed. “I don’t understand, Harry. You think they’re hiding Death Eaters from prosecution?”

“It’s possible, sir. Don’t you think it’s at least worth a look? After all, Rabastan’s brother is still out there somewhere, and he was married to Draco’s aunt Bellatrix…”

“The Aurors did a thorough search of the grounds after the War, Harry. What makes you think you’ll be able to find something they can’t?”

“I don’t know, sir. But…I have to try.”

Kingsley watched him for a long time before responding. “Are you certain you are the right person to look into this, Harry? Everyone knows how much you dislike the Malfoys. They could accuse you of a grudge.”

“And all I would have to do is remind them that I stood in Narcissa’s defense at her hearing.”

“Some might suggest that now that she is dead, you are allowing your hatred of them to resurface, Harry.”

Harry heard the rebuke in the Minister’s tone. “I have to do this, sir. Just to know for certain. If they were out in public more often, I would be able to let this go, but the fact that no one ever sees them? It only shows that there is something to hide. We need to find out what. I swear, I won’t make any move without checking with you or the head of the MLE first. All right?”

After a moment, Kingsley nodded. “Very well. But I want you to be careful, Harry. This is a dangerous line you’re treading. I’ve seen Aurors with vendettas before. They rarely end well.”

“I promise I’ll be careful, sir,” Harry said, relieved that he was at least being given this chance. He promised himself he wasn’t going to waste it by messing it up.

Now he just had to find out what Malfoy was up to.

He Apparated out to the Manor’s grounds the next morning. What he found shocked him. The grounds looked like they hadn’t been tended since the end of the war. The gardens were overgrown, the more exotic flora being strangled by weeds, and grass was encroaching on the pathway he walked up to reach the front door.

The steps looked like they had not been swept since Narcissa’s death, and the paint on the door seemed faded and dull. What had happened? Why weren’t the house elves taking care of the Manor any longer? Harry knew the Malfoys had at least a half-dozen of the creatures. Hermione was constantly going on about it, after all. What could possibly make them neglect their duties this way? Perhaps something had happened to Draco and his father?

Harry knocked loudly, trying to see inside, but the few windows looking into the hall were so grimy that he could not make out anything inside.

Scowling, Harry knocked again. He’d been right to be concerned. There was something very wrong going on here and he needed to find out what. When there was no response to his second knock, Harry made his way back down the steps and along the side of the house. Perhaps there was a door that he could get open elsewhere?

* * *

No one had bothered trying to visit in months. The family’s friends all knew that there would be no answer if they tried. That meant whoever had knocked was someone they did not normally associate with. The question was, was it family trying to reconnect after some time, an old friend or ‘colleague?’ Or worse, was it an Auror?

None of the options were good ones. Draco couldn’t let any of them in. If they discovered… It was unfathomable. He would have to find a way to chase them away.

Luckily, Lucius was dosed, so he wouldn’t have heard, but Draco had to get them out of here, whoever they were, and before Lucius woke. He moved to a window that overlooked the front of the house, but there was no one there. Perhaps whoever it was had left? Still, Draco had to be sure. He moved to a side window, and was horrified by who he saw moving towards the back of the house. Potter.

If there had ever been a worse time for Potter to appear, Draco couldn’t imagine it. He had to get rid of him. Now.

For a moment, Draco was lost for ideas how to do it. Until he saw him pass by the old well at the side of the house. It had one of the more ancient garden spells on it, and actually granted wishes. Simple ones to be sure, but it still worked, even after all these centuries. Just like the protective wards of the house. They had been built up, one generation after the next, but the older spells were still accessible, if one knew what they were.

One of the oldest of the wards was a basic ‘unwanted visitor’ spell. All Draco had to do was activate it. He closed his eyes, focusing on the protection of the house, and how dangerous Potter was. The ward did the rest. Before Potter knew it, he was standing back at the front gate.

Draco peeked out a window facing the gate to be certain it had worked, and smirked when he saw Potter’s astonishment. He waited for Potter to apparate away before he relaxed, though. He only hoped Potter wouldn’t decide to come back. He wasn’t sure how many times that spell would work on someone.

He was thinking of finding the documentation on the ward when one of the house-elves appeared. “Master Lucius has awoken, Master Draco, sir.”

Draco sighed, then nodded. “Tell him I will be there shortly.” Time to go prepare himself once more.

* * *

Back at the Ministry, Harry was trying to figure out what kind of ward had banished him from the Manor. Had he triggered something dormant, or had someone activated it themselves? And if there had been someone there, why hadn’t they answered the door?

He puzzled at the question for a few minutes, but then Ron came in with information about a case, and he was distracted once more.

It was only when he reached the end of the day that he realized he’d never figured it out. He asked his assistant to have the library send up any information on the Malfoy Manor wards, then went home for the day. He was supposed to be meeting Ginny for a night on the town, and didn’t want to be late.

Unfortunately, when he got home, he found an owl waiting with a message from her that she wouldn’t be able to make it tonight. Sighing, Harry headed back out for some take-away, then sat in front of the telly and tried not to think for a few hours. Unfortunately, the ruin that Malfoy Manor had become kept popping up in his mind. It bothered him. Whatever else, he knew Malfoy was proud of his home. Why would he let it get so run down? It didn’t make sense.

He made another visit the next morning but the wards pushed him away before he could even get to the front door this time. He Apparated to the Ministry, and began to peruse the notes his assistant had found on the wards. They were almost no help. It was infuriating. There had be a way to get past them, didn’t there?

Because if there wasn’t, this little mystery was likely to drive Harry spare.

* * *

Draco had put off the trip to Knockturn Alley as long as he could, hoping that his father might improve, but now, there was nothing for it. He’d run out of the last of the ingredients for the potions, and there was only one set of them left.

He would just have to be careful. If Potter was sniffing around, it was likely only a short time before he found a way past the wards. Draco had to be back as quick as he could. He had to keep Potter out. If Potter found out, it would destroy everything.

Dressing carefully, Draco pulled a robe on over everything, then prepared a dose for his father, and gave it to the elves, with instructions not to let him leave his own rooms except in dire need. The elves bowed low, then scurried from the room, and Draco pulled on his winter cloak. Hopefully he would be back before his father woke. Right now, it was the best he could hope for.

It was almost noon, and Knockturn Alley was nearly deserted at this time of day. Bright light shining on dark deeds never worked out well. Still, the shops were open, and there were a few people and creatures tucked away in corners selling things—or experiences, if that was what one was after.

Draco swept past all of them, heading directly for the apothecary just past Borgin and Burkes. They carried some of the less legal substances that Draco needed for his potions. And they were also well out of sight of the happy shoppers in Diagon Alley. He didn’t want to accidentally stumble across someone who knew him, after all.

The apothecary knew Draco well now, and had most of the ingredients easily at hand. He was quick to have his assistant prepare the rest while Draco paid for the lot, and Draco was able to make it back out to the street within twenty minutes.

Unfortunately for him, it was at the very same moment that Potter passed through the area.

The two men stared at each other for a moment before Draco gathered himself enough to Apparate away, but even had it been only a second, it would have been too long. Draco knew that now Potter would never give up.

* * *

Whatever Harry had been expecting when he’d gone to investigate Knockturn Alley that afternoon, it hadn’t been to see Draco Malfoy breaking his solitude from the Wizarding World by visiting the apothecary.

He’d gone inside to demand what Malfoy had been there to buy, but the proprietor had refused to tell him. And since Harry had no proof of wrong-doing, he had to leave with no answers but those he already had—like the fact that Draco had changed dramatically since the last time Harry had seen him. His hair was much longer. Not quite as long as Harry remembered Lucius’s hair being, but it was long enough to be pulled into a tail at the back of Draco’s head. And there had been dark circles under his eyes, too. In a way that reminded Harry of sixth year. Only then had Harry seen his old foe out of sorts and so worn. Had things really gone that bad for the Malfoys?

Perhaps he should talk to some of Malfoy’s remaining friends and see what they had to say?

The problem was getting them to talk to him. One door after the next was slammed in his face. It was infuriating. But he couldn’t just summon them to the Ministry. This still wasn’t a formal investigation, after all. Which meant waiting until he was able to “accidentally” run into any of them.

It took several late nights at the Leaky Cauldron before he managed to run into Goyle Jr there. His community service had been served alongside Malfoy’s, and Minerva had been pleased enough to give him long-term work helping keep the castle in repair even after. Or so she’d told the Wizengamot at his formal release from punishment. He’d been quiet enough in school, if menacing, but these days, he barely spoke at all. The loss of Crabbe, who had always been at his side as long as Harry had known him, had seemed to drain most of his spirit.

It took three drinks sent Goyle’s way before the other man came to find out what Harry wanted.

“Ain’t talking against Malfoy, Potter,” he grunted.

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” If someone had tried to get something on one of the Weasleys, he’d have said the same. “I just need to know what’s happened to him. Something’s wrong. Isn’t it?”

Goyle blinked at him for a few minutes, sipping at the ale Harry’d bought him, and Harry was about to take this as a lost cause when he finally spoke again. “Malfoy’s been having a hard time. His mum was always the strong one. Now that she’s gone…” He shrugged, then began to sip at his ale again.

“Have you been over there since she died?” Harry asked him.

Goyle shook his head. “Not since just after the end of the war.”

Harry frowned, but nodded and stood. “Thank you.”

“Potter.” Goyle caught his hand. “He’s a secretive one. Has been since sixth year. Help him?”

Harry was a bit humbled by the request, but in his mind’s eye, he could see Draco refusing to leave his friend to the mercy of the Fiendfyre. “I’ll do my best, Goyle.”

The half-smile was the most friendly expression Harry’d ever seen on the other man’s face. “Thanks.” Then he went back to nursing his ale as though Harry weren’t even there.

Apparently, Goyle spread the word that Harry wasn’t out to get Malfoy, but to help him, for the next day, he arrived at his office to find Pansy there waiting for him. “Um…hi. Can I…help you?”

She huffed. “You’re the one who knocked on my door, Potter. Greg said you were asking about Draco?”

Harry nodded. “I just needed to find out a few things.”

“Like what he’s up to? I seem to recall him talking about your snooping sixth year…”

“Oh?” Harry winced internally. It wasn’t the same, he told himself. He moved to his desk, pulling out a sheet of parchment. “So…do you know what he’s been up to?”

Obviously the response was too eager. Pansy’s eyes glittered as she considered him. “No,” she finally said.

Harry huffed then turned away. “Why did you come, then, if you can’t help me?”

Pansy laughed, though there was no humor in the sound. “Because someone needs to help him, Potter. Whatever has happened? This is as out of character for him as sixth year was. You knew it then, and you know it now. And if you can help him…”

Harry turned to meet her eyes. He’d started this with the suspicion that Malfoy was doing something wrong, but after this reaction from Pansy, and a similar one from Goyle…he knew he’d do whatever he could to help Malfoy. If Malfoy would just let him. “I’ll do my best. When was the last time you saw him?”

“My cousin’s wedding. The month before his mother died. The person you should talk to is Blaise. He saw him that week. If anyone knows…it’s him.” He could see the worry in her eyes.

“Zabini?” Harry hadn’t realized the two were that close.

She nodded. “After the war…they got closer. Spent a lot of time together before his mother died.”

“Thank you. I’ll go talk to him, then.”

Pansy smiled, then nodded. “And…if I think of anything…I’ll let you know. But if you hurt him…”

“I promise you, I will do everything in my power to help him, Pansy.”

She blinked at the familiarity, then nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

After Pansy left that day, Harry wrote a letter to Blaise requesting a conversation with him, then gave it to his assistant to send off. The response came halfway through the day. Blaise asked what Harry wanted to talk with him about. Harry owled back that he needed to ask him a few questions about Draco.

This time, the response was almost immediate: “Buzz off.”

Knowing further letters were going to get him nowhere fast, Harry looked up Blaise’s address, then took an early day. He stopped by the building where Blaise’s flat was, but he didn’t go in. That could wait. Let Blaise calm a bit. Hopefully seeing him in person would help. Maybe then he’d realize he actually wanted to help Draco. And if not, at least Harry would have a visible reaction to work from. It was the best he could hope for.

Ginny owled a note that night that she was off to bed early due to practice for her team’s match that weekend, and that they could meet after the match Saturday. She enclosed a ticket with the note, a clear invitation for Harry to come to see the match. While it was nice to get a ticket, the note meant that Harry had nothing to do but have another night in. After supper and determining that there was nothing on the telly, Harry decided to make an early night of it himself.

The next morning, Harry woke with the sun and took his time getting ready before going to visit Blaise. Somehow, he doubted the man was an early riser, but maybe it would mean that the cutting edge of his temper would be dulled?

When he knocked on Blaise’s door, he had to wait for quite some time before there was an answer from the other side. “Who is it? Do you bloody well know what time it is?”

“Harry Potter. It’s seven thirty.” He glanced down at his watch to verify. “Actually, closer to a quarter to eight.”

“It’s not even eight?” Blaise yanked open the door, his normally deep golden-brown skin looking rather grey in the fluorescence of the hall light, his hair a mass of sleep-rumpled curls. “Are you bloody insane, Potter? What the hell could you possibly want at the crack of dawn?”

Harry rolled his eyes at him. “It’s hardly the crack of dawn, Zabini. That would be five o’clock. Or six.”

“If you visited to debate timing with me, you chose the wrong person, Potter,” Blaise snarled.

“I didn’t. Malfoy. I know you don’t want to talk against him…”

“I don’t.” He started to close the door, but Harry caught it.

“Just hear me out, Zabini? Please?”

Blaise glowered at him, then sighed, opening the door wider. “Fine. But I won’t do anything to get him arrested, so if that’s what you want, you can just leave.”

“I don’t.” It might have started that way, but now Harry just wanted to find out what had happened. In some ways, he felt almost responsible for Draco’s fate, given that his mother had basically saved his life. He stepped into Blaise’s flat, looking around at a rather sparsely-furnished, open floor-plan, then turned back to Blaise, who closed the door, then tugged his robe tighter closed.

“Fine. But if we’re going to do this, I’ll need coffee.” He turned away from Harry and led the way to the kitchen area. Harry watched as he set a pot to brew, then ran his fingers through mussed hair before turning back to glower at him. “Can’t even leave him alone now that he’s no longer a Death Eater? Obsessed much, Potter? The two of you…I swear…”

Harry frowned, trying to ignore the ‘obsessed’ comment. “And what is that supposed to mean, Zabini?”

“It means that he spent the first five years at Hogwarts being obsessed with you, then you spent the next year chasing him around Hogwarts, and you are apparently still obsessed with him even now. Well, maybe he doesn’t need you, Potter.” Blaise’s eyes narrowed.

Harry blinked at him. What on earth did that mean? “Well, someone has to help him. Something is wrong. I’m just trying to find out what.”

“If he wanted help, he’d have asked for it.”

“Asked who? From what Goyle and Parkinson have told me, he’s shut everyone out of his life. Unless…have you seen him lately?”

Blaise’s eyes shuttered. “Define lately.” The coffee pot signaled it was done, and he turned away before Harry could answer to pour himself a cup then take a gulp that made Harry wince. It had to be burning hot. But either it wasn’t, or Blaise didn’t notice or care. He only sagged back against the counter, his eyes closed. “Mmm…better.” His eyes opened and he looked at Harry. “I haven’t seen him since his mother’s funeral.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

Blaise looked away, then sighed. “The night she died.”

Harry frowned at him. “You were there that night?”

Blaise swallowed, then nodded. “Believe me, I wish I could forget,” he said softly.

Harry could understand that. If Molly had died on a night he’d been visiting the Burrow with Ron…he doubted he’d ever get over it. “I’m sure it was hard on Draco,” Harry said softly.

“You have no idea,” Blaise said, meeting his eyes again. “I know he blames himself. I think…” Blaise shook his head, then finished off his cup, pouring a second.

“He couldn’t have known she was going to fall, though…”

Stilling with his cup mid-way to his mouth, Blaise looked at him, then put it back down. “She didn’t just fall, Potter… Didn’t you know that?”

“What? What do you mean? She fell down the stairs. I thought she’d tripped. Are you saying that’s not what happened?”

Blaise was silent for a moment, and Harry could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, examining every angle before answering. “She was pushed.”

“What? Why? That wasn’t in the report! I know that it was investigated. How…”

“Draco didn’t want them knowing. He couldn’t bear it. Losing…” Blaise took a deep breath, then looked away, as though not meeting Harry’s eyes would make him less culpable for telling him. “He didn’t want to lose them both.”

Harry blinked at him. “Lucius…?”

Blaise nodded.

“How could he defend…?”

Blaise met his eyes now, and glared. “You wouldn’t understand, Potter. He has always been so close to both of them. To have lost them both in one night…it would have destroyed him. Don’t you see?”

“But…if Lucius killed her…”

“I don’t think he meant to.” Blaise turned away again, setting his cup in the sink. “He was…not himself that night. That’s why Draco blames himself. That he hadn’t watched him closer.”

“But if he’d told someone…”

Blaise turned, glowering darkly at him. “Lucius Malfoy is a convicted Death Eater. What would you have done then? If you’d heard that he’d been responsible?”

Harry didn’t want to admit that Blaise was right, but he was. “Fine. So…you think he’s…keeping him from hurting anyone else, then?”

Blaise sighed. “I don’t know. He won’t even answer my owls any more. What will you do?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry said. “But I have to try something, don’t I?”

“I don’t know. But…thank you. For wanting to.”

Harry nodded, turning to leave.

“Potter?”

Harry turned back to meet Blaise’s worried gaze.

“Thank you for trying.”

Harry sent him a sad smile, nodded, then left.

It was so much information—too much, really. And now, Harry wasn’t sure what to do. So he went to the only person he knew could actually help him think it out—Hermione.

The problem was, he didn’t want to spill Draco’s secret. Which meant he wasn’t sure how to tell her. So he kept the story abstract, leaving out the names involved, and hoped she wouldn’t ask too many questions. Luckily, she seemed to understand it was an investigation, and was content with talking out the bits he had told her.

“So you’re worried he might be in danger, then?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“But he won’t talk to you?”

“No. Every time I’ve gone over there, no one has answered the door.”

Hermione nodded. “So…what you need to do is let them know you won’t leave until you do talk to them.”

“But the wards—they keep pushing me outside the boundary of the property.”

Hermione looked surprised. “How old is the property? That seems a very strong ward… Most wards of that sort are fairly old. And require direct activation, or true malice on the part of the visitor…”

“That’s what I thought. Is there any way through something like that?”

“Well…it depends how strong they are, really. But it’s mostly about intent. If you concentrate on trying to help him, it should ignore any request from the occupant to push you away.”

“You think?”

Hermione nodded. “Depending on how old it is, of course…”

Malfoy Manor was at least three generations old, but likely a good deal more, if Harry knew the Malfoys. “And if it’s more than a century or more?”

“Well…then it would depend on how well it had been kept up in recent generations.”

“Would it be worse, or better?”

“Depends on the family, I suppose.”

Harry nodded. “I guess I’ll have to be careful, then.”

“Harry…promise me that you’re not doing something foolish?”

Harry laughed, then patted her hand. “And when am I not doing that, Hermione?”

She gave him a pained smile. “Just…be careful, okay?”

Harry nodded. “I will, Hermione. I promise.”

The problem with all this was that his friends knew that even if he meant what he said, he simply couldn’t help himself when it came to his impulses. He sent an owl to Ginny saying that he wouldn’t be free that night, and stopped at the Manor on the way home.

This time when he knocked, he made sure to focus on helping Draco, and his concern about what might be happening to the other man. When the wards didn’t push him away after more than a minute, he relaxed and knocked again. “Let me in, Malfoy! I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”

* * *

Draco hadn’t wanted to answer, but when the wards no longer seemed able to get rid of Potter, there was no other way for him to deal with this before Lucius woke and went to deal with Potter himself.

“Surely you understand that when someone doesn’t answer, they want you to leave them alone, Potter?” Draco asked once he’d opened the door.

“This isn’t something I’m willing to just let pass by, Malfoy. Something’s wrong. Let me help you.”

The words made no sense. Harry Potter, helping Draco Malfoy? Since when was that a possibility? “Mind your own business, Potter. I can deal with my own problems.”

“Can you? Is that why you’re locked up here in a crumbling manor with your father?”

Draco felt his cheeks heat. “I didn’t ask your opinion, Potter! Now butt out!” Draco tried to close the door, but Potter caught it.

“I don’t think so, Malfoy. And I’m not the only one. All your friends asked me to help you!”

Draco didn’t let his astonishment at that show. “They wouldn’t! They would never go to you!”

“Maybe not, but every one of them I talked to hoped that I could help you. Now, are you going to let me, or am I going to have to force my way inside?”

And that was all it took to get the wards to work once more. Draco raised his chin. “Leave. And don’t bother coming back.” The wards pulsed around Potter, and he vanished from the doorway. Draco glanced down the drive to see where he reappeared, then satisfied that Potter wouldn’t try to storm the Manor again, he slammed the door hard, wishing he could have done so right in Potter’s face.

* * *

Harry knew he’d made a mistake as soon as the words had left his mouth. Luckily he’d had a few spells ready, just in case. He was only able to cast the first before the wards pushed him off the grounds, but Draco still had the door opened when he appeared outside the gates, so he quickly cast the other towards him, hoping it would work. Standard tracking and surveillance charms, but they might still answer a few questions.

And there were more clues to add to what Harry had already gathered. In Knockturn Alley, Draco’d been wearing a long dark robe, and had his hair slicked and pulled back, so that it had looked fairly normal. But he’d obviously not had time to prepare today. His hair had been loose around his face, long and…waved? And the robe he’d been wearing…there had been something off about it. Not a formal robe. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He’d have to think more about it.

He apparated to the office, then set the final charm on a piece of parchment to take any possible notes from the tracking charms. All he could do now was wait and see what kinds of conversations Draco might have in the next few days. As soon as the spell was cast, words began to scrawl across the page, and Harry had to tamp down on his curiosity. There was too much else he needed to attend to. He would take it home with himself tonight and look then. He finally had to stuff it in a drawer to keep himself from reading it, then began to work on paperwork for other cases.

By the time Harry left the office for the day, he had almost forgotten. There was just the vague memory that there was something he had been meaning to take home with him, and it was only when he raised his wand to apparate home that he realized what it was. He pulled the parchment from the drawer, then tucked it in his pocket.

Ginny was waiting for him when he got home, and Harry was surprised how annoyed he was by the fact that that meant he wouldn’t be able to see what Draco had been up to during the day. “Ginny. What are you doing here?”

She snorted. “Glad to see you, too. I thought we had a date tonight.”

“I…”

“Let me guess,” she said with a scowl. “You’ve made other plans?”

“Not exactly, Ginny. I just…”

“You just what, Harry? I haven’t seen you in a week! You would think you would be happy to see me!”

“I’ve been distracted, okay? And it’s hardly my fault I haven’t seen you! You’ve been practicing!”

“‘Distracted?’ You mean obsessed. Don’t tell me you’re still stalking Malfoy?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, come off it, Ginny! What would you know? You haven’t been here.”

“That’s not a denial, Harry,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

“It so happens I am working on something involving Malfoy. But it’s a case, and not an ‘obsession,’ okay?”

“Right. And how did you end up assigned to the case may I ask?”

“Ginny…”

“No. It made no sense in school, and it makes no sense now, Harry. Why do you care what happens to that blood purist, anyway? He deserves anything that happens to him!”

Harry blinked. There had been a time when he and Ginny had agreed on everything. Or at least, he thought they had. But this… “Everyone deserves help, Ginny. If you can’t understand that…maybe I’ve made a mistake.”

“Good. So you’ll go back to your boss, then, and tell them someone else should take the case?”

“No.”

She frowned. “No? But you said…”

“I said I made a mistake. Yours was assuming that I was agreeing with you that he didn’t deserve help.” He turned away from her and moved to the kitchen. “I think it would be best if you left, Ginny.”

“You…you’re choosing Malfoy over me?”

“I’m choosing my values, Ginny. If you can’t share them…” The words hurt to say, but he forced them out. “Then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

There was a long silence behind him, and finally he turned to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed with anger, and her eyes wide. “You’re dumping me? You can’t dump me!”

“Ginny…”

“No! Do you know how long I waited? How hard I tried for you? You arse!”

“I never asked you to, Ginny. I do care for you, but if you can’t understand this…”

“No. Fuck you, Harry!” She shook out her hair, breathing hard. “Just don’t come crying to me when everything goes wrong.” And then she apparated away.

Harry moved to the couch, falling onto it with a groan, and burying his face in the cushions. This was not how he’d wanted to start his weekend. And what was he supposed to do with his tickets? He was fairly sure that if he showed at the stadium that he’d be tossed out on his ear. At least, if Ginny had anything to say about it, he would be…

And then there was Ron. How would he react? This could be a disaster. Ron didn’t have a great temper at the best of times. Harry could only imagine how he would react to the idea of Harry dumping his sister. Best friend or not, Ron would let him have it.

Still, the more he thought about it, the more he knew it had been the right choice. Things had been rocky for them for some time. Possibly since they’d gotten back together. Ginny’s expectations had been so high, no amount of magic would have helped Harry meet them. Unfortunately, that didn’t make him feel any better. Now he was miserable and alone, instead of miserable but at least in a relationship. He wasn’t sure the payoff of not being nagged was worth it.

He was only pulled out of his funk when his stomach rumbled, and decided to go down to the corner Indian place and get some take away. He didn’t think he could manage to concentrate on anything right now.

He didn’t remember the parchment until he came back with supper and was taking off his jacket and heard the crinkle. At the sound, everything else was forgotten. He pulled the parchment from his pocket and spread it out on the table. At first, there seemed little of interest. Draco grumbling about him, which made Harry smirk. Orders to elves, which made him wonder why the place was so run down if the Malfoys still had house elves. Something about potions for Lucius… A long stretch of nothing, and then…

What Harry read horrified him. At first, he wasn’t sure he was even reading it right. Draco went from calling Lucius father to calling him by name. And the things he was saying…he couldn’t possibly be doing what Harry thought…could he?

He’d expected dark dealings, or that Lucius was somehow hurting his son, but this…this went beyond immoral. It was enough to make Harry sick.

It sounded as though Lucius was using Draco—as his lover. The question was, why?

Harry spent a lot of time thinking that night. Draco needed more help than he’d expected. Either his father had somehow blackmailed him into this, or he was trying to shield his father somehow, or…well, there could be any number of reasons, really. He just had to find out what was really going on.

He went back to the Manor the next morning. This time, he didn’t need to focus on his concern before he was able to get past the wards. He shrugged through them as though they weren’t even there. He had to help Draco. Even if Draco insisted he didn’t need it.

This time, the door opened almost immediately. “I told you to leave, Potter.” Draco frowned when the words had no effect.

“I can’t. Not with what I know, Draco. Let me help you.”

“You don’t know anything, Potter!” Draco snarled. “Now get out!”

“I know more than you think.” He held out the parchment.

Draco looked at it with a sneer that faded to horror as he read, then he pulled back, looking up at Harry with wide eyes. “What did you do?” he asked, horrified.

“Surveillance spells. I had to know.”

“You didn’t! You didn’t have to know anything! This is…private!”

“I wanted to help you!”

“I didn’t ask for your fucking help, Potter!” Draco snarled, his face turning scarlet now, though from anger or embarrassment, Harry couldn’t say.

“Well, someone needs to help you! You’ve pushed away all your friends. You’re looked in a crumbling mansion trying to keep him there… Do you really think this is healthy?”

“I can help him! If people would just leave us be!”

“You’ve been alone with him, Draco! For months. When will it start to help?”

Memetime!

2009-11-14T00:47:59Z

Instructions:

Leave me a comment saying "Resistance is Futile."

• I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can satisfy my curiosity

• Update your journal with the answers to the questions

• Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions

1. How did you first start writing? I mean, what made you try, what inspired you etc.
Thinking back, the earliest story I can remember was done in fifth grade. I wasn't any good at all. Based on these animal cards--someone traveling an island and discovering all these creatures. Painful to think of now, really. Written for school, which was my inspiration to write. I went to an alternative school where creativity was the main push for us. That to be creative was what they wanted from us. Most of my early writing endeavors were done for school. It was really only once I'd dropped out of college that I started to find my way back to writing. And that many years after. I think I've still got a long way to go, though. Makes me wish I'd started sooner.

2. When you write now, what kind of things inspires you the most? Music, paintings or whatever else?
Characters the most, then music and media of different sorts. Usually what I watch on tv and in the movies influences me, even if just in tone. And then, of course, there's RP. ;)
But overall, my ideas and my stories are character-driven.

3. Which historical figure would you most like to meet and have a conversation with?
Depends what you mean by historical. If you mean anyone from history--Oscar Wilde. The more I read on him, and of his work, the more fascinated by him I am.
If you exclude literary...that's a lot harder. I'm fond of the Romanovs, but I don't know if I'd have anything interesting to glean that I can't already from history books, ditto JFK. Possibly Lincoln. He was an interesting man, and did some pretty amazing things, given who he was.

4. What was the first book you read that made a huge impact on you? Why, too, if you can explain it.
Hm...I've read so much, it's hard to say for sure.
The Hobbit was read to me, so that doesn't quite count. But I do remember being very affected by The Little Princess, by Frances Hodgsen Burnette. Possibly one of the roots of my love for angst. A more modern book would have to be my all-time favorite, Lady Blade, Lord Fighter, by Sharon Green, which was the first adult book I bought myself. By adult I mean had sexual themes in it as a regular part of the storytelling. Opened my eyes a whole lot, I can tell you...

5. I'll steal one from Johnny and ask what quote that always gives you a thrill?
Silly, and it shows my obviously fannish roots, but I have to go with:
Angel - "When I kiss you, you don't wake up from a deep sleep and live happily ever after."
Buffy - "No. When you kiss me, I want to die."

:D

Fic: And Venus Was Her Name - Bellatrix/Morag, Adult

2009-11-13T17:36:17Z

Title: And Venus Was Her Name
Author: elfflame
Characters: Bellatrix/Morag MacDougall
Rating: Hard R or soft NC-17 for darkness
Warnings: Non-con (from the victim’s POV), general darkness
Kinks chosen: Symphorophilia
Word Count: 2266
Summary: She will do anything to have her back.
Author's notes: Title from the song “Venus,” but don’t let the title fool you, this is no lighthearted fic. Pay attention to the strong warning for the non-con. It’s not graphic, but it does deal with the mental processes of the victim. Please be mindful if this is an issue for you. The story itself is born from an evil little RP idea that came to me and that wolfish_cat indulged. Thank you to ceria for the beta-job. :) And one more notch on my D_D fic list—my first femslash fic here at D_D.

Then

“Avada Kedavra!”

The green light surrounds her, and she looks away even as she hears the soft flump of the man as he falls to the ground. The terror has frozen her in place, and she is sure that she is next. Instead, the woman--Death Eater oh my god it’s Bellatrix Lestrange why didn’t I join Padma in the DA I want to go home don’t touch me please I don’t want to die--grabs her wrist.

“Stay still, girl. Unless you wish to be splinched!”

She see the wide, terrified, dead eyes of the man she was servicing as Bellatrix Apparates her away from the dirty alley.

«¤»

Now

Bodies everywhere. Blood. She should be here to glory in it, but she is not, and Venus swears that she will kill her mistress’s murderer. Not my daughter, you bitch! The words will ring in her ears until her mistress returns.

Everyone here thinks she is still Morag and leaves her be, discounting her as a danger, but they are sadly mistaken, and will come to regret it. Her mistress has made her something more. Something better than she ever was when she was plain, mousy Morag.

But without her mistress, she is less than she could be. She is unmarked. Unfinished. This must be remedied.

As soon as she can, she Apparates back to the Manor. The mistress made provisions to keep anyone out in case they were found, and Venus is glad of it. She knows her mistress never believed their Lord might fail in his fight against Potter. It was unthinkable. But he has, and because they have lost, she must be careful.

The library is just as she left it. But the books she wants now are different from those her mistress had her study before the fight. She does not want to raise an in inferius. She wants her mistress whole and hale.

She needs Bella back.

«¤»

Then

Locked in a room alone is worse, almost, than being with her. At least when Bellatrix is visible, Morag can watch her so that knows what to expect next. But here, alone, waiting for Bellatrix to return and announce her fate, she is terrified. Her wand is gone, and she is unable to Apparate through the wards that surround the place where the woman has brought her…is she to be a sacrifice?

She wishes now that she had let her mother transfer her to Beauxbatons instead of running away. At least there she would be safe, away from all this death; from a too-short future she can likely count in hours on one hand.

But if she thinks being alone is bad, it is far worse when Bellatrix returns. There is no escaping her fate, whatever she tries, and the spell the Death Eater uses to make herself a temporary cock drowns Morag in terror when she realizes what will come next.

Her struggles are easily subdued with a spell, as Bellatrix cackles at her fear, obviously loving the effect she has on her captive. And even more when she presses inside Morag and discovers the still-existing membrane there.

“A virgin whore? How perfect.” Bellatrix’s grin is maniacal, and Morag shivers at the look, offering her anything—anything but that.

“Oh, but this is exactly what I want, pretty thing. You should be grateful I would lower myself even to touch you.”

When Bellatrix breaches her, it is painful. Both a mental and physical pain that she knows will never leave, even if the scars are given a chance to heal. She will never recover. Not from this.

«¤»

Now

She lies in her mistress’s bed, fingers stroking over her clit as she remembers. Remembering the blood and pain they have shared together, and aching for it to return.

Past and present merge, and she can almost feel Bella breach her again, as painful as ever, but welcome now the way it was not the first time her mistress took her.

She finds her terror from that time silly now. Her mistress has been so good to her. Has helped her understand her place in the world—beneath her. She has shown her that Mudbloods are to be hunted down like the vermin they are, their blood fit for nothing but to water the ground. And that halfbloods like Morag should be grateful when a pureblood like her mistress pays her any attention.

Her breasts ache for her mistress’s touch, even as she tugs at the rings there, remembering her own cries the night Bella pierced them. It is not enough, though. The pain she manages to give herself is just too shallow. She cannot be whole until Bella returns to her.

Unsatisfied, she slides from the bed, nude, and begins her search anew.

«¤»

Then

There had been no escaping her, even after. Bellatrix hadn’t seen fit to rape her again, though. At least, not immediately. Morag discovered that Bellatrix actually seemed to be interested in her abilities with a wand.

The room Bellatrix had left her in was well furnished with antiques, and a large, lush bed draped in velvet. Better than she was used to in her Muggle, middle-class home with her parents. But that didn’t make it any less a jail. And it didn’t make the bed any less foreboding. Just looking at it made her ill. She took to sleeping on the chair near the window on the nights when she managed to sleep at all.

When Bellatrix had handed back her wand and taunted her into attacking her with it, Morag had resisted at first, sure that the woman was only goading her to use it as an excuse to hurt her again. It had taken a great deal of goading before she’d finally used it in anger, thoughts of escape drowned by the thought of hurting the woman who’d so cruelly abused her. While Bellatrix had laughed, she’d done nothing more dangerous than counter her moves, and seemed especially pleased when Morag had used a slashing spell in her desperation and managed to cut Bellatrix’s cheek in the process.

Bellatrix cast Expelliarmus then, catching her wand before smirking at her. “And who taught you that little spell, girl?”

Confused at the mild reaction, Morag had refused to answer.

Bellatrix had chuckled, then cast Cruciatus on her for refusing, and left her alone in the room once more.

Her confusion grew day by day as she tried to understand what Bellatrix wanted from her. Some days, she was left entirely alone, her only company books and house-elves which delivered food. Other days, Bellatrix would appear, and they would duel again, the fight only stopping once Morag had breeched Bellatrix’s defenses once more. Some days she was punished, others she was not.

But Bellatrix didn’t touch her again. Not then.

«¤»

Now

The spell, when she finds it, is complicated. But not too complicated for a clever Ravenclaw who spent more time in her books than socializing with anyone before her Mistress found her. She knows she can make it work. It will just take time and patience. She has as much as she needs of the first. The second, not nearly as much.

But this cannot be done poorly, so she takes her time. Gathering her ingredients when she is sure she will be safe from prying eyes, taking the few victims she needs for the darkest part of the spell only when the moon is full, and crime at its height, and even then, only Muggles. It wouldn’t do for the Ministry to discover her little secret.

Each night, she rests uncomfortably in her mistress’s bed, knowing how she would be punished for such a presumption, but not caring, so long as she could feel her mistress nearby once more, and aching when she does not.

Nothing she does even comes close to what her mistress can do to her. How her mistress could make her feel with a word, a sharp tug, or a thrust. She has to have her back, so that she can feel whole once more.

«¤»

Then

It wasn’t until a month into Morag’s captivity that Bellatrix tried again. This time, the attempt was far more subtle. More so than Morag had expected her even capable of, mad as the woman was.

They had settled into an uneasy truce, with random battles between them, and occasional discussions of the books Bellatrix would leave for Morag to read. Morag still didn’t trust her or like her by any stretch of the imagination, but she was almost comfortable, for lack of a better term.

The difference came when Bellatrix joined her for her evening meal. Unusual as it was, Morag wasn’t sure what to make of it. Not until her skin grew warm. Warm enough to make her twitch, tugging at her clothes, which she only ever removed now to wash.

“What…what did you do to me?” she asked, the words slurred.

Bellatrix smirked at her. “I just wanted to make you more comfortable, pet.” She scooted closer, and despite herself, Morag felt herself leaning towards the woman. She needed touch, and it was beginning to feel as though anything—hell, anyone—would do.

Bellatrix was quick to seize advantage. “Shall we try this again pet? I find I want to hear those pretty cries of yours once more…”

The words made Morag shiver and close her eyes. “Oh, god…please, no…” She couldn’t seem to pull away, though. Pressing against her made the burn ease, and she set her cheek on Bellatrix’s shoulder, then began to nuzzle it.

She could hear Bellatrix’s laughter in her ears, and felt a shudder run through her body. “Drugged me,” she whimpered. “Please…don’t.”

“Please me, pet, and I will make you my personal project. I will raise you higher than you could ever have dreamed. Refuse me, and I will personally ensure that you watch all of your little friends as they die. Do you understand?”

There was no choice. Tears sprang to her eyes as she nodded, and she flinched only slightly as Bellatrix pulled her chin up and began to kiss her.

Whatever potion Bellatrix had dosed her with made the experience less painful than the first time. But even then, it was still rape. She could feel Bellatrix’s teeth as they marked her skin, her fingers tearing off her clothes even as she bit and nipped at her. In many ways, this time was worse than the first. This time, even though she hated what Bellatrix was doing to her, her body still reacted as though she enjoyed it.

The best she could do was close her eyes and try to pretend she was elsewhere. Except that her body wouldn’t let her. Every touch made her body react, arching into the feelings Bellatrix drew from her.

Nor could she shut out Bellatrix’s words, or the sounds she made. Each making her skin crawl at the depths of the woman’s malevolence.

When Bellatrix penetrated her again, she expected the same pain, but it was far less. And that was almost the worst of it. She needed the pain. Needed to know that her body was rejecting what Bellatrix was doing to her. But it did not, and she couldn’t stop the tears that sprang to her eyes at the knowledge that Bellatrix could do this to her again and again—now she would never be free, and she knew it.

Morag died that night. Venus was born in her place.

«¤»

Now

Everything is in place. Tonight, Bella will return.

It must be tonight, or the ritual will not succeed. Venus knows this. A part of her blames herself for failing in her task, so she has decided to finish the spell the only way she can. Her Mistress will return. The Wizarding World must pay for what it has done.

She begins the chant to the moonless sky, begging the goddesses Eris and Morrigan to bring her mistress back to the land of the living.

She continues to chant, even as she begins to brew the potion that will recreate her mistress. It is a difficult potion, but she knows she can do it. She has practiced with fake ingredients to get the timing down, and knows she will not make a mistake. She wishes she could have tested it first, but this is Bella’s only chance. The year anniversary of Bella’s death is the only day when she can be revived. All she can do is trust that her talent with potions will mean the potion works.

One by one, she pours the ingredients into the cauldron. Adding blood from the victims she has gathered over the past year, finally leaving nothing left but the final ingredient. She looks up at the heavens, sending a last shouted prayer up to the goddesses, then raises her dagger.

The pain when she cuts into her arm is incredible. But for her mistress’s return, she will pay any price. Even this. Another cut, this to the other arm, bleeding freely into the cauldron now. She feels the spell wind around her. Sending a last thought to the goddesses, and a final one to her mistress, Venus raises the dagger, sinking it deep into her breast to finish the spell.

Even as she feels her life ebb, she feels the pull of the magic and smiles. What better way to give her mistress life than to give her own magic to the woman who made her?

It is the last thought Venus ever has.

elfflame @ 2009-11-10T12:30:00

2009-11-10T20:30:41Z

A little something my hubby linked me to, that I want to save for posterity:
Scenes from an Alternate Universe Where the Beatles Accepted Lorne Green's Generous Offer

An intriguing look into the Beatles' careers, singly and as a whole. Be warned, if you care at all for the Beatles, this is likely to require a few hankies.

Fic: His Enemy's Fall - final - various, adult

2009-11-10T02:24:32Z

Kingsley,

I hope this missive finds you well.

We know that you have earned your retirement, but I am afraid that we need your help. I am uncertain if you have been keeping up with the news from England, but Harry’s vendetta against the Minister has been causing issues. To the point where we have decided to gather the remaining Order members once more, simply to be on hand to help him find his way.

We wish to help him, but the help he seems to want to receive is leading him down a very dangerous path, and we worry where this will all lead him.

Please consider returning to help us. I think if you were here, you might be able to pull him back from this path before it destroys him utterly.

We hope to see you soon,
Fondest wishes,
Hermione

It was an alarming letter to read.

Any other reason would have had him sending his regrets, but after reading Hermione’s letter, he knew that he could not refuse.

He jotted down a note and sent it off.

Hermione,

I have received your note, and will return to England on the first available Portkey.

Please take care, and I will see you soon.

Kingsley

Once the letter was sent, Kingsley went inside and began to pack. He hated leaving, but the place had waited this long. Surely it could wait another month or two. And the few months he’d had here had helped him relax immensely. He almost felt like his old self now. Harry was worth going back to England for a short visit.

He closed up the house carefully, sending a few quick pigeons out to friends and family about where he was going, then made his way to get himself a Portkey back to London.

~ * ~

Tracking down the Minister took more time than Harry had expected. Harry’d followed several false leads before he managed to find out where she was located.

The problem was trying to decide how to approach her, and what he was going to do when he did. He was hardly likely to get her to admit her wrong-doing, no matter what he did. And the point of all this was to prove her guilt.

Finally, Harry decided that all he could do was approach her and see who was guarding her, then work from there. He had to face her at least once to be sure he was right.

Lucius’s contacts were working to find her, but it felt like they were taking forever, and Harry was desperate to be done with this so that he could finally move on with his life. Finally, he and a few of his friends began to take turns watching Hermione’s flat in hopes that she might lead them to the Minister.

It took several days before Hermione led them to a small cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, but as soon as he saw the place, he knew it was what he had been waiting for. Bill was standing outside as Hermione approached, and Harry watched, eyes narrowed, as they talked for a moment.

His eyes widened as Kingsley appeared in the doorway, and he felt a spear of betrayal at the sight. Kingsley was protecting her? How could he do such a thing? Harry felt his anger flare, and it was all he could do not to storm the cottage and attack the three of them.

Luckily Zach, who had joined him in following Hermione that evening, took that moment to ask Harry what his next move would be.

“Back to the Manor. I need to decide how to handle this.”

“But what if they move her again?”

Harry shot him a look. “Then I will find their new hiding place. Now we know, it shouldn’t be too hard to find her. I know many of the places they’re likely to use.” The Burrow, for one. Hogwarts, if things got desperate. But no matter where they hid her, he would find them.

The two of them Apparated away, and Harry made his way to Lucius’s study. He needed advice, and Lucius was the only one he knew who could provide it. “They’re guarding her, he said as he entered the room.

Lucius looked up at him. “The Order?”

“Yes.” He moved to stand in front of Lucius’s desk. “I don’t…I can’t believe they’re doing this to me. To Ron! Why can’t they understand?”

“They do not wish it to be true. It is easy to convince themselves that they are right, rather than that they are being led by someone who would do such a thing.”

“I hate them. If they’re going to stand with her, then…they deserve whatever they get.”

Lucius sat back. “So…what will you do?”

Harry smiled, feeling the anger curl inside him. “Show them that they can’t stop me.”

Lucius smiled back. “Do you wish help?”

“I…don’t know. Perhaps it would be best if I went alone, just in case.”

“Very well. Perhaps you should tell me where you are going, just in case?”

Harry sighed, then nodded. “Hogsmeade. Near the Shrieking Shack. If they move her, I will send my Patronus, so that you know.”

“Thank you. I will have someone waiting to help you if needed. And Harry?”

Harry met his eyes. “Yes?”

“Be careful.”

Harry smiled, then nodded. “I’ll be fine. And careful.” He gave Lucius a last smile, then apparated back to the cottage, a curl of satisfaction going through him at the sight of Kingsley standing on the front step, the night cloaking Harry from his view at first.

Kingsley saw him before he made it within the ring of light. His hand tightened on his wand. “Harry.”

“Kingsley. I would have wished you were not here.”

“I would have wished you were not here, Harry. You don’t have to do this.”

“If I don’t, who will, Kingsley? Everyone else seems so certain of her innocence.”

“Are you so sure she is not?”

“Yes. And I will make sure she pays for what she has done.”

“I can’t let you do that, Harry.”

The anger burned higher inside Harry at Kingsley’s words. If he was willing to protect her, he was the enemy, just like the others. “And I won’t let you stop me.” The words were followed by a Cruciatus spell so quickly that Kingsley was unable to counter it, even as he tried to raise his wand. He collapsed to the ground, screaming, his wand falling from limp fingers.

It was too easy, really. Either Kingsley hadn’t believed he would actually attack, or he had lost his edge during his retirement, but either way, it was easy to subdue and bind him. “If you ever change your mind, Kingsley,” he said softly, “do come find me.”

He stepped on the other man’s wand, breaking it in two, just to be sure that he wouldn’t be able to follow after him. Then he stepped into the cottage, and rolled his eyes at what he saw there. Hermione and Neville stood together, facing him and guarding a closed door, behind which Harry assumed the Minister would be.

“Fools. You really think you can stop me? You never gave me enough credit, Hermione…”

“The Harry I knew understood the difference between right and wrong. I don’t know who you are. I’m just glad Ron’s not here to see it.” She looked pale, and Harry was sure he caught her trembling, but her wand didn’t waver as she pointed it at him.

“Leave, Neville. I don’t want to hurt you. But I will if I have to.”

Harry’d seen that look on Neville’s face so many times before. Determined fear. He’d never thought to see it directed at him again. “I can’t let you do it, Harry…”

“You can’t stop me, Neville. Go back to your plants, and leave this to someone who understands what’s truly going on.”

“No! Ron wouldn’t have wanted this, Harry. You can’t…!” Before Neville could finish, Harry’d gagged him with a spell.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Neville…”

Neville’s answer to that was to raise his wand, which Harry sent spinning from his hand. A quick binding spell, and Neville fell to the floor, no longer a threat.

Harry turned back to Hermione. “Get out of the way, Hermione.”

She looked pale, but determined. “No. I won’t let you.”

Growling, Harry aimed his wand at her to disarm her. She shot a stunning spell towards him, but he ducked it easily. “You don’t understand, Hermione. You can’t stop me. She needs to pay for what she’s done.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Harry. I don’t know why you’re so determined to kill her, but it won’t bring him back, Harry! Don’t you understand that?” She tried to disarm him, but missed, then ducked a binding spell from him.

“No, it won’t. But she’ll finally pay for causing it!” And if Hermione couldn’t understand… “Don’t fight me, Hermione. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her face went white, recognizing the threat for what is was. “Harry, please…” He cast a Cruciatus at her before she could finish the plea, and she collapsed to the floor, screaming, Neville adding muffled cries of his own where he lay on the floor.

Harry gave them both a last look before stepping over them and opening the door they had been guarding. A spell shot at him from the corner, but he was ready for it, and ducked, casting a slashing spell towards the dark figure, straightening when he saw them drop. He turned, then smirked when he saw the Minister cowering behind the door. “I see you’ve been waiting for me to show, Minister. I’d think it meant you realized what a mistake you made, but you never admit to mistakes, do you?”

“I never…” She screamed as Harry cast a slashing spell over her arm. He didn’t want to kill her. Not just yet.

“Don’t lie! You wanted me to bond with you when he died, didn’t you? It’s the only thing I can come up with. The only reason you would cause something like that. The only reason he was there at all. Right?” He cast another slashing spell, this time on the other arm, right over her wrist where she was holding her wand uselessly at her side. She screamed, and the wand fell from her fingers.

“No! It wasn’t…”

He cast another slashing spell across her shoulder. “Stop lying!”

She screamed, her voice cracking. “No! Please! Stop!” She curled in on herself, trying to protect herself with her hands as well as she could, despite her wounds. “I didn’t plan it!”

Harry pulled up his wand at that, then pointed it at her. “And why should I believe you?”

She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with pain. “What did I gain from it?”

“Nothing. Because it backfired.”

“For me. He convinced me it would draw you closer to me, yes. But it was never my plan, Harry.”

He cast another slashing spell at her again, and she cried out. “Don’t call me that! You’ve no right!” He took a deep breath to try to calm the rage swirling inside him. “If not you, then who?”

She looked up at him coldly, as though she pitied him, and he itched to hex her once more. But he needed to know. He needed to make his revenge complete. And if there was someone else behind it all…

“Surely you have some idea of who would benefit most from severing you from the Ministry, and from the Weasleys?”

Harry glowered at her. “Say it. If you want me to know, then tell me. I’m through with your games.” His wand pointed towards her face this time.

She swallowed. “Malfoy.”

“What? Why would Draco…”

“Not Draco. Lucius.”

A chill spread through Harry at that. “No.” But he could feel the truth of it, even as he denied it.”

She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he channeled all his fury at her. “Avada Kedavera!” She fell backwards, and he turned away, not wanting to see it.

He had to get out of here. Think. He apparated to his flat, feeling suddenly empty. Used. Again. Lucius would have to pay.

~ * ~

When Harry came back to the Manor that night, Draco knew something was wrong. But when Harry took his hand and led him upstairs, then began to make such tender love to him that it nearly brought tears to his eyes, any worry dissipated.

“Harry…”

Rather than answer, Harry kissed him again, smiling. “So lovely. Should never have waited,” he said, making Draco’s heart beat faster.

“No,” he agreed. “I would have been yours the moment you asked.”

Harry smiled at that. “Yes. But you are now, and that is all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Draco breathed. “Yours.” He kissed Harry deeply, his arms tight around Harry’s neck.

Draco felt Harry’s hand slide down his side as they kissed, and he arched against him.

“And will you let me make you even more mine, Draco?” Harry whispered.

Draco blinked up at him, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“Do you trust me, my Draco?”

The words were everything Draco had always wanted to hear, and he ignored the small part of himself that disliked the tone of Harry’s voice. “Always.”

Harry smirked. “Good boy.” There was a light in his eyes that sent a chill through Draco, but before he could protest, he felt a spell wash through him, and then it was too late.

~ * ~

It had been too easy. Perhaps Draco and Blaise had not been involved in Lucius’s plans, but Harry would treat them well, and this way, they would never betray him again. He returned to the room he’d hidden them in, then summoned an elf.

The thing bowed, and Harry handed it a parchment. “Summon these people to the ballroom. Tell them I expect them to be there within a quarter hour.”

The elf bowed low, then vanished.

Smirking, Harry looked at his two new pets. They truly were beautiful. And he couldn’t wait to see Lucius’s reaction. He was quite sure it would keep the man in line. And if it did not…well…he had other ways of dealing with those who plotted against him.

~ * ~

Lucius did not like being summoned in his own house, but the small crowd that had gathered at Harry’s summons made him frown deeper. They were not only Harry’s little friends from his school club, but also several former Death Eaters who Lucius had known were in hiding. He kept separate from them, not certain yet why they were here, and not wanting to associate with them if it was going to cause him problems. Then there were Narcissa and Andromeda, who seemed deep in concerned conversation and glowering at the Death Eaters, staying as far from them as he could. There was a conversation he didn’t want to enter into at the moment.

Given that Lucius wasn’t about to associate himself with Harry’s little friends, either, and his son was nowhere in sight, that meant he had to find himself a space far enough from all of them that he didn’t look as though he were associating with any of them.

When the doors opened, Lucius was ready to pull Harry aside to give him a piece of his mind. But the Harry who walked into the room was the man who had confronted Voldemort. And yet not. His expression was twisted and cold, and Lucius had to repress a shiver.

But what sent a gasp around the room were the two large cats walking on either side of him. One was a pure black panther, the other the palest puma Lucius had ever seen. Lucius looked quickly around for his son, then back at Harry. He didn’t like this in the least.

Harry smirked at him, then walked to the center of the room, letting the doors slam shut behind him and looked around the room. “Perhaps you are all wondering why I have asked you to come here today. I have decided that I am done being used. You are those I can trust to follow my lead. Either because I know you…” Here he turned to his former schoolmates. A few looked gratified at that, some looked shocked, and a few looked downright ill.

Then Harry turned to the former Death Eaters, who all looked alarmed. “Or because I know how well you follow orders.” And then, Harry turned to look at Lucius, his eyes narrowed, his smirk widening. “Or because I know you would never go against me,” he said in a low, carrying voice. He stroked a hand over the white cat’s head. “Isn’t that right, Draco?” he asked it.

The chill down Lucius’s spine turned to a spear of ice. He felt pinned in place even as he took a second look at the cat, which was calmly cleaning itself, ignoring the people in the room. He couldn’t have, could he?

Then the cat, as though feeling his eyes upon it or perhaps in response to it’s master’s question, looked up and met his gaze with shockingly familiar grey eyes. Lucius’s heart sank. He closed his eyes, swallowing the bile in his throat, then dropped to his knees as the others watched, his head bowed. Behind him, he could hear Narcissa’s strangled moan of horror. “Never, my Lord,” he said, his voice stiff and emotionless as he could manage.

Harry placed his hand on Lucius’s head, and he waited for the final blow to fall. Would it be Cruciatus, or Avada Kedavra? But no spell came. Instead, Harry spoke, and Lucius could hear the smirk in his new Lord’s voice. “Yes, Lucius. I know you won’t.”

The Beginning

Fic: His Enemy's Fall - part 2 - various, adult

2009-11-10T02:22:00Z

Nothing good can come of your investigation into the incident in Paris. If you do not cease looking into it, you may well suffer further losses. Your family is already so small. It would be terrible for you to lose more of those you are close to. Your godson and his grandmother are particularly vulnerable, are they not? For their sake, you would do well to let this go.

The note pushed him into action, hurrying to Andromeda’s home to check on her and Teddy.

She was startled to see him. “Harry? What’s wrong? No one else has died, have they?”

He smiled, relieved to see her well. “No. No one else.” His mind supplied the ‘yet,’ though he didn’t say it out loud. “How is Teddy?”

Andromeda smiled. “He’s quite good. I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She stepped aside so that Harry could enter. “He’s always thrilled to see you.”

“I’d like that. It’s been a hard few months.”

She nodded sadly. “I was very sorry to hear about Ronald. I know how fond you were of him.”

The reminder was almost enough to make Harry forget the threat. But the Auror in him couldn’t let that happen. “Thank you. The…investigation is still going on. That’s actually why I’m here. I received a threat.”

“You? But surely the Ministry would be able to protect you…”

“Not to me. To…those I care most about.”

“Ginny?” Andromeda asked, looking horrified.

Harry shook his head. He hadn’t even considered her. But then, he tended to stay away from her these days, and the note he’d received had been very specific. “To you. And Teddy.”

Andromeda paled. “Us…but…we’re a threat to no one…” She looked away. “Not again…” She closed her eyes, and Harry moved closer to her to squeeze her shoulder. The loss of both her husband and daughter during the last war had been hard on her. Teddy had been the only thing to keep her going.

“I’m so sorry, Andromeda. It’s because you’re so important to me. But…I thought…perhaps you could go live with your sister until the threat is neutralized?”

“Narcissa? But…what about Lucius? I’m sure he won’t want a child running through the halls…”

“Let me deal with him. The Manor’s defenses, and the fact that there are others there who can watch over you both would put me at ease. Consider it, at least?”

“If you can convince Lucius…then yes. It is likely for the best. And Narcissa and I will have more time to catch up with each other.” He could see that she was searching for positives in the situation. It was a good sign.

“I’ll talk to him tonight, then.”

She smiled. “Come on. Why don’t we go see what Teddy’s gotten up to? He’ll be thrilled to see you.”

~ * ~

Having a child in the Manor was strange. After all, there hadn’t been one there since Draco himself had been small. As he had only ever spent time with Teddy when Harry was around, Draco was simply unprepared to deal with Teddy on a one-on-one basis so much. Particularly when Teddy took a liking to him, and was constantly seeking him out, appearing in the oddest places Draco went to try to be alone.

On the other hand, having his aunt and cousin here meant that Harry visited even more than before. To the point where Narcissa had even put a room aside just for him to stay in on the nights he didn’t want to go home.

It was a simple thing to sneak into Harry’s bedroom those nights, all jealous thoughts forgotten when he had Harry to himself like that. Some nights were spent talking more than not, but most were spent exploring each others’ bodies eagerly.

Some nights, Blaise joined them, and now that he’d had more time with Harry on his own, Draco could relax and enjoy being with both of them. Maybe his father had had the right of this after all?

Harry continued visiting frequently, and the two or sometimes all three of them often took Teddy flying, or for long walks in the Malfoy gardens while his mother and aunt talked. Draco couldn’t help thinking this was how things were supposed to be.

It was that thought that prompted Draco to suggest to his father that they make the situation more permanent.

“He’s here almost every night as it is. Why don’t we just offer him a more permanent place here?”

“Do you think he would accept it?” Lucius asked, obviously pleased at the idea.

“I do. I mean…he comes here all the time anyway. Especially now that Teddy is here. And we all get on with him so well now…”

Lucius nodded, smiling. “Do you wish to ask him, or do you think he would accept it better coming from me?”

Draco grinned. He had worried Lucius might not like the idea. “I’ll ask him. Thank you, father.”

“Do let me know what his response is. It would not do to keep this from your mother, after all…”

Draco nodded, pleased. “I will, father.” He hurried back to his own study, then sent Harry an owl, asking if he would be visiting that night.

Harry’s response came back quickly that he would love to see Draco tonight.

Draco grinned at the letter, then took time to prepare himself before settling to wait for Harry to arrive.

~ * ~

The offer was completely unexpected, and it took Harry a few days to think it over before he realized Draco was right. He was there almost every night now, and he felt safer there than anywhere, even the Burrow.

Though he decided to accept the offer, Harry kept his flat in London. He spent most nights at the Manor, but every so often, a late night would keep him in town, and then he used the flat as a place to crash.

It was also a good place to keep all his notes about the Minister. He trusted the Malfoys well enough, but something told him that this vendetta was better handled on his own.

Outside of his search for proof against the Minister, most of his time was spent relaxing with Draco, Blaise, or George. He promised himself that as soon as he had solid proof against the Minister, he would apologize to Hermione for fighting with her. But she wouldn’t believe him until he had something solid, so he had to keep searching.

Instead, his time was spent at the clubs with Draco and Blaise, or at George’s shop, when he wasn’t at the Manor.

Now that he had no one to answer to relationship-wise, Harry found himself seeking out other partners. At the club especially, but there was one memorable night when he’d found himself in George’s bed. He was glad to realize that George was almost nothing like his sister, even beyond the difference in gender.

Where Ginny had always been reluctant or hesitant, George was not only confident, but hungry to touch, taste, and take. Harry was quick to ignore the whispered name when George came. It was unsurprising, once he thought of it. The twins had always been so close, after all.

Once they had recovered, George tried to apologize. “Sorry…”

Harry shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, George. Really.”

“Yeah, well…you deserve to know…”

“I know you and Fred were closer than almost anyone else I know. It’s okay. I can’t imagine what that would be like.”

George looked away. He was silent for a few minutes, then he answered anyway, though Harry had expected nothing further. “Like half of you is just…gone. It’s…” He sighed, then turned away from Harry. “I keep hoping I’ll find a way to bring him back,” he said softly.

“Bring him back? I thought necromancy only managed inferii…” The thought should have been horrifying, but in this context, Harry found that he could understand George’s need to have his twin back. If he’d had a chance to bring Ron back, he’d have done it in a moment.

George nodded. “Yeah. That’s all I’ve managed to find so far.”

“That’s why you wanted to go to the Manor, isn’t it? To see what the Malfoys had in their library that might help?”

“Knew it would be a long shot. Since I couldn’t come out and ask…but I had to try.”

“Would you like me to ask Lucius if he has a more…private collection?”

“Would he tell you if he did?” Harry could see that George was trying not to hope.

“Couldn’t hurt to ask, right? Besides…I’ve been thinking about asking if he has ways to track down the people who…attacked us in Paris.” Ron’s name echoed in the room almost as loud as Fred’s had when George had whispered it earlier.

“You’re actually going to use his connections?”

“At this point, I have no other leads. And I know he’d be willing to help if I asked.” He’d avoided doing so before now. He knew Lucius would likely be thrilled to help him, but the thought of asking a former Death Eater for help in a Ministry matter had seemed wrong. But at this point, Harry was beginning to feel that he had nothing left to lose. And if Lucius were able to help, why shouldn’t he?

“Do you really think he’d be willing to help me, though? I mean…I know you’ve gotten close to the Malfoys, but…they hate us Weasleys still…”

“It can’t hurt to ask, right? And he knows you’re my friend.” It was a little disturbing, when Harry let himself think much about it, so he shook his head to dispel any worries, then smiled at George. “Besides…having Fred back…that would make up for some of what he’s done to your family in the past, now, wouldn’t it?” And if it worked…maybe, just maybe, Hermione could have Ron back, too.

George looked uncertain at first, but then he smiled. “Yeah. It would, wouldn’t it?”

~ * ~

When Harry came to ask for help finally, it was all Lucius could do to contain the surge of victory. And the requests made his success that much sweeter.

“Of course I will do anything I can to help you, Harry. I will put all my people on finding information for you. As for my private collection…Is there something specific you might be looking for?” He knew Harry’s question had been meant to sound off-hand, but it was obvious that it was important to the boy. It might be possible that he was trying to find something on him to take him in to the Ministry, but something told him it was a sincere question. And if Harry wanted access to his Dark spellbooks, his war was nearly won.

“My friend George…he’s doing research. I thought…maybe you might have books on the subject that you might not want where just anyone could read them?”

“I may have something that would help him. What subject is it that he is interested in?”

Harry made a face, obviously debating with himself. “Spells to help those who have passed…cross back.”

It was more than Lucius had expected, but he did his best to keep his shock from his face. “I…may have some books on the subject. I would ask that he come here to look at them, though. The magic in those books is dangerous at best. At worst…” Even Lucius would hesitate to use many of the spells in those books.

Harry nodded. “I can imagine. I’ve seen some dark spell books. I know how horrifying they can get.”

“I assure you, Harry, you have seen nothing approaching these books. But I will help him. If that is what you wish.”

“Help him? If you can.”

“I will do my best, Harry. And I will send you any information that my people as soon as they find it.” The proof against the Minister would be easily found. Lucius had been holding onto it in hopes that Harry would come to him sooner or later. And now, the chance had come. Now all he had to do was wait long enough for his people to “discover” the proof, then send it to Harry…and everything would fall into place.

~ * ~

After that, all Harry could do was wait. His own searching had turned up nothing new. The Aurors had been reorganized, and Harry had been placed on desk duty “until such time as enough time has passed from your loss.” He’d been fine with the idea at first because it had meant that he could do more research on the Minister and the investigation itself, but now, with nothing more to do, Harry found himself restless.

He kept expecting Ron to appear in his door, and the few sightings he’d had of Hermione, she’d turned away from him and hurried off the other way the moment she’d seen him. His only solace was being able to go to the Manor each night and lose himself in Draco or Blaise, or to drag them out to a club and find someone else for the night. It almost helped.

The only Weasley he saw with any regularity any longer was George. The others weren’t so much avoiding him as lost in their own grief over losing Ron.

He knew that Ginny was still angry with him, though it was all muddled up in their arguments as a couple and their breakup, but also included Ron’s death. How was he supposed to approach her after all that?

He also had the feeling that many of the Weasleys felt a bit awkward about both events, especially that they’d happened so close together, and weren’t sure how to approach him any longer. Harry couldn’t really blame them.

When Lucius finally sent him the location of those who had taken part in the attack that day, all thought of friends or Weasleys had gone completely from his mind. The only ones who knew where he went that night were George, Draco, and Lucius. He’d asked them all to keep away, but to let others know if he did not return. He wanted to handle this alone. He wanted to finally have his proof against the Minister for once and for all.

He found the five men in a small flat in the center of London, not too far from the Ministry. He used surveillance spells as well as a few of George’s latest tricks to listen in on their conversation. When he heard nothing of use after almost an hour, he switched tacks and waited for one to leave the flat to follow them and take them by surprise.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait for one to leave the flat to go get them all takeout for the evening. Harry followed close behind, and was able to slip into the flat behind him when he returned, glad for his invisibility cloak. The men descended on the food, entirely oblivious to Harry’s presence in the flat.

Though Lucius had assured him these were the men who had done the deed, and Harry could see that these were obviously temporary living conditions, he still had no proof these were the ones. It was frustrating, and Harry was close to casting stronger spells to get what he wanted, when finally one of the men whined about the flat. Harry stilled in the process of pulling his wand free of his belt to listen.

“…How much longer she expects us to stay here?”

“You heard the last call. Until the investigation has been satisfactorily concluded to her satisfaction. If they were to find us, they could easily trace things back to her. You know that.”

Harry felt a thrill go through him. They had to mean the Minister, didn’t they?

“I would think keeping us all together like this is far more incriminating, personally. I mean, two of us together might pass muster, but five?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like we can tell them no, is it? I mean…if we tried to go against them…” The one speaking opened an ale, then began to eat his supper.

For Harry, it was more than enough. He’d get them to confess, and then he’d be able to bring down the Minister easily. And if they didn’t confess…. The memory of Ron on the floor, the blank look on his face, was enough to firm Harry’s resolve.

He quickly enchanted a binding spell, then pulled off his cloak, smirking at the horrified looks on his captives’ faces.

“Please…Don’t let me interrupt. What was that you were saying about guilt?”

The men all glanced quickly at each other, then one met Harry’s eyes. “Not sure what you mean. How did you get in?”

“Don’t think much of me, do you?” Harry asked, eyes narrowed. “You knew you’d be found sooner or later. Didn’t you consider it might be me?”

The man was silent for a moment, obviously debating his answer. “And you are…?”

Harry’d forgotten the surge of power that anger could give him. At the man’s words, the lights in the flat burned bright, several blowing out in the process. “I am the man who is going to make sure you pay for killing his best friend,” he said in a low voice.

“K-killing?” the man stuttered. “Wh-what do you mean? Who…?”

“Ron Weasley. The one that died because of you cowardly worms!” The lights flared again, and he pointed his wand at the one speaking. “Which of you did it?”

The man’s eyes went wide for a second, then narrowed, and his chin raised. “What? You’re going to beat us all with a stick?”

The attempt at a fake-out didn’t fool Harry in the least. He could hear the tremor in the man’s voice. “I know more spells than you’ve forgotten. Shall I demonstrate?”

“What are you, some sort of…Magician?”

“Let’s not play games, shall we?” Harry asked, his voice dangerous now. He pointed his wand at the man’s leg and cast the Sectusempra spell across it, cutting a gash across it. The man screamed, and Harry smiled grimly. “Now…let’s try this again. This time without the pretense, shall we?”

The man met his eyes, his own pain-glazed. “I didn’t…was…the look out.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. So…which of your friends did it, then?”

Though he remained silent, Harry saw the man glance to one side before meeting Harry’s eyes again. “What are you going to do to him?”

Harry cast a silent Crucio on him, but only for a moment. “That is for trying to protect him.” Harry turned to the man on his right, the direction he’d glanced. The man’s face was white as he stared at his friend, who lay on his back, pale and panting from the after-effects of the spell.

“Was it a thrill?” he asked the new man, whose eyes snapped up to meet his, wide and terrified.

“No! I just…no…please!”

“He had no chance to beg. Why should I care?”

“But…you’re…”

“I’m through with people who think they can manipulate me. And you’re going to be my example.”

“No! No…please!” The man tried to squirm back, but his bonds were too tight.

“Too late.” Harry focused on his anger. He’d never wanted to use the spell more than he did now, but leaving little to no proof would be important. The Muggles would just think it a random crime, and the magical community would be no wiser. “Avada Kedavra,” he said, his voice shaking as he focused on the image of Ron, dead on the floor.

The room filled with green light, and before any of the men could protest, their comrade was dead on the floor, his eyes as blank as Ron’s had been. Feeling the anger swell higher inside him, he turned back to the first.

The man looked ill, but Harry couldn’t find it in himself to care if it was from seeing what he’d done, or worrying what would happen to the rest of them, or from blood loss. “Tell me who hired you.”

The man swallowed. “I don’t…” He cried out as Harry used Sectusempra again. “I don’t know! I don’t know his name!”

“His? How old? How did he contact you?” Harry moved closer, meeting the man’s eyes.

“He…pub. Approached me. Never told me his name. Please…it was just a job. I didn’t…”

This time Harry hit him with the back of his hand. It was incredibly satisfying to see the man’s head snap back. “Don’t lie! You knew you were being sent to hurt. You had to know the chances that someone would die were high.”

“We didn’t! I swear! They just told us to injure! I don’t know why Simons did it!”

“No? Then it’s too bad you didn’t stop him, isn’t it?” Harry cast the killing curse again, amazed at how easily it came the second time, then turned to the others. One was whispering something to himself, eyes squeezed shut. Harry growled, then cast a Sectusempra at him, causing the words to be swallowed by a sharp scream, then silence. Harry glowered at the other two who remained untouched.

“Tell me, and I might let you go. Withhold the names, and you will die like your friends.”

One shook his head even before he opened his mouth, and Harry hit him with a Crucio before glancing at the other. “And you? Helpful, or dead?”

The man looked pale and green with terror. “I’d tell you if I could!” He cowered, shouting before Harry could throw a spell. “All I know is that the Minister’s banquet was to be interrupted as best we could!”

That sounded wrong, so Harry held back. “And the Minister? Was she the target?”

The man looked up and met Harry’s gaze. “No. We weren’t to touch her. Or you. Anyone else was…” The man choked out the last two words. “Fair game.”

“Fair game.” This time he didn’t have to push to cast the spell at all, and the words dripped from his lips like venom. “Avada Kedavra.” The man flew back with the force of the blow, and before he had even landed, staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling, Harry had turned to kill the last of the men.

He was running toward the door. How he had managed to get to his feet, Harry didn’t know, but he decided to use him as his scapegoat. “Imperio!”

The man stopped abruptly like a puppet, then slowly moved toward Harry, walking jerkily back to where his friends lay.

Harry removed his bindings. “Where is your wand?” he asked him.

He blinked at Harry for a moment, then reached into his pocket, pulling it out.

Harry smiled, then had the man copy the spells he’d used on his friends with his own wand. Once that had been accomplished, Harry took it from him. “Lie down.” Harry could see a flash of terror cross the blank face, and tightened his hold on the man, watching as he lay down. Once the man was laying down, Harry cast a slashing spell across the man’s chest. It wouldn’t kill him immediately, but it would be enough to kill him before someone found him. Done, he placed the wand in the man’s hand, then cast a find-me-not spell on the building. It would wear off in twelve hours, and when the people who had hired them came looking, it would already be too late.

Done with his bloody deed, Harry apparated away to his flat, adrenaline flooding him. He needed…something. But the thought of going to the Manor felt wrong, somehow. Finally, he decided the best way to work it off would be to go to the club. He’d never gone on his own before, but what better time to start?

He spent the rest of the night flirting with and snogging random blokes, then Apparated back to his flat sometime near dawn and fell fast asleep.

Next Part

Fic: His Enemy's Fall - part 1 - various, adult

2009-11-10T02:10:05Z

Title: His Enemy’s Fall
Author: elfflame
Recipient: liriaen
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Harry/Blaise, Harry/Draco/Blaise, Harry/George A few others referred to, but those are the major ones
Rating: R to NC-17
Warnings (if any): Murder, mayhem, dub-con, manipulation
Wordcount: 23,226
Summary: Harry finds himself getting closer to the Malfoys as his world begins to fall apart.
Author's Notes: This story turned out to be far more massive than I expected, but I managed it, despite frustration and flu. Huge thank you to ceria_taliesin for hand-holding and a great beta-job, even if we didn’t agree on the end-game. And to nix_noir and kabal42 for their hand-holding as well. Title comes from a Jewish Proverb: “Rejoice not at thine enemy's fall - but don't rush to pick him up either.” My contribution to the ownficfest.

Kingsley’s retirement party was well underway when Harry and Ginny arrived. They’d had an argument about whether or not they should come. Ginny hadn’t wanted to attend when she’d learned that Draco and Blaise were going to be in attendance. She disapproved of the friendship Harry had with them, and Harry hated what her jealousy implied. It wasn’t like that.

He’d put an end to the argument by telling her that he had to make an appearance—Kingsley was expecting him. She could stay behind, but he was going, and that was that. Ginny had fumed, but pulled on her wrap.

“Fine. We can make an appearance. But then we’re leaving.”

“You can leave if you want, but I’m staying. He’s been the best Minister we’ve had in generations. You know that.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be there for every second of his time as Minister,” she huffed.

“He’s my friend. I want him to know I wish him well, Ginny. Is that so hard to understand?” He flexed his suddenly itchy fingers before pulling on his jacket. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Could we just not do this tonight, Ginny? Please?”

“Fine.” Ginny grabbed her purse, then Apparated to the Ministry, still glaring at him.

The rows they’d had over the last five years since the end of the war had been escalating. Nowadays, it seemed like any little thing was likely to set Ginny off. Whether or not something meant anything to Harry, if she didn’t like it, it was apparently the end of the world. Frankly, Harry was getting fed up with her trying to control him.

Harry took another deep breath before following her. He might care for her, but really, her attitude was grating on his nerves more and more.

When he appeared, she was already off in a corner, whispering in the ear of a girl Harry recognized as one of her teammates, who glowered at him when she saw him watching. He turned away, then went to find Kingsley. Let her fill their ears with her complaints. He wasn’t going to let her ruin his good time. Before he even took two steps, Draco was at his side.

“I was worried you wouldn’t make it in time. Ginevra looks angry. Did you fight again?”

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled when Draco offered him a glass. “When do we not? She didn’t want to come. To Kingsley’s retirement party! Like I could miss this even if I wanted to! I swear, she’s only getting more and more demanding as she grows older…” He sighed, sipping at the sweet wine, letting the alcohol relax him. “Some days…”

“I know you love her, Harry, but honestly, I’d never let a girl I was with nag me as much as she does you…”

Harry snorted. “Like you’d care what a girl thought, Draco. After all, that’s not where your real interest lies, is it?”

Draco shrugged, but smirked, not bothering to deny it. “I’ll have to marry someday. I do need an heir, after all…”

“Somehow I don’t see you marrying a woman like your mother, though…”

At one time, the possible insult would have had Draco bristling. Now it was taken for the complement Harry had meant it as. “And why not? My mother’s a lovely woman.”

“Better than mine,” Blaise said as he approached, smiling widely. “Harry. It’s good to see you. I think the Minister was looking for you earlier…”

Harry scowled. Damn Ginny for making him late, anyway. “What did he need? Do you know where he is?”

“Harry,” Draco said softly, placing his hand on Harry’s arm. “I’m sure it’s not the end of the world. He probably just wanted you to pose for pictures with him.”

Blaise nodded. “Yes. I’m sure he would understand you not wanting to pose with him…”

“I would have.” In fact, Kingsley was the first Minister he’d met where he would have, and in fact had, endorsed him to the public. He’d joined Kingsley at many public and political gatherings, adding his title of “Chosen One” and “Slayer of Voldemort” to whatever cause Kingsley was trying to get passed or get to the public’s attention.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities later, Harry,” Draco said softly. “It’s nothing to get upset over…”

Perhaps not, but after the fight with Ginny, it was hard to calm himself. Especially hearing that the Minister had asked after him. “Perhaps I need another drink,” he muttered.

“Or perhaps some fresh air?” Draco suggested.

Harry nodded slowly. “Perhaps that would help. Thanks, Draco. Sometimes I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

“Harry!” Hermione appeared, smiling a bit plastically, tugging at Ron’s arm. Ron looked like he’d rather eat broken glass than anywhere near Draco. “How are you?”

Harry managed a smile. They were still his best friends, despite disagreements, after all. “Hey, Hermione. Ron.”

Ron nodded woodenly. “Hey, mate.” He glanced at Draco, then Blaise, then back to Harry. “I think Kingsley’s looking for you.”

“Yeah, Blaise said as much. Did he say what he wanted?” Harry wasn’t about to mention why he’d been late to the party. Saying he’d been fighting with Ginny would only provoke Ron into another tirade about the evils of hanging out with Malfoy, and Harry couldn’t deal with that right now. He still needed to cool off from fighting with Ginny, not start a new fight with his best friend.

“Nah. Just wondered if you were coming, I think… Maybe we should go find him, eh?” he suggested with a smile Harry recognized as Ron trying to finesse him. He was crap at it. Obviously his real intent was to get him away from the ‘Slytherin gits’ he hated so much.

“I’m sure I’ll see him, Ron. Draco and Blaise and I were just going to go get some air. Did you want to come with us?”

Ron looked horrified at the prospect. “Maybe just the two of us?” he suggested.

“Actually, Harry, I need to go talk to someone. Maybe if it were just the three of you, your friend Weasley here would bee more comfortable?”

“You don’t have to, Blaise…”

“It’s all right, Harry. I’ll see the two of you later in the evening.” He turned to Draco and kissed his cheek. “See you later.”

Draco nodded, then smirked at Ron as Blaise moved away. Ron was looking disgusted. “Something wrong, Weasley?”

“Do you have to do that sort of thing in public, Malfoy? Or were you putting on a show for us?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about, Weasley.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Look. I wanted to talk to Draco, Ron. Just…shut it. Do you want to come with us, or not?”

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione gave him a warning look, and he deflated. “Maybe later, Harry?” he suggested instead.

Harry nodded, grateful that he wouldn’t have to keep the two from killing one another. “All right. See you shortly Ron. Hermione." He turned to Draco. “Come on.”

Draco smirked as he nodded, but it was only a small one, so Harry let it pass. This was another annoyance in his life. That his old friends so hated him spending time with his new friends. Even Hermione, who tried to pretend like she understood, used every opportunity they spent alone warning him of spending too much time with them.

~ * ~

Walking next to Harry, Draco could tell when the cool air began to help. He knew he was still walking a fine line with Harry, despite the fact that he and Blaise had managed to break past many of his defenses. The wrong word could undo everything they’d managed to accomplish so far, and that was something he couldn’t let happen. So instead, he watched as Harry relaxed, and waited for him to start talking once more rather than babbling at him and chancing his temper. He’d seen the look on his face when he and Ginny had arrived. He certainly wasn’t envying her once they got home tonight.

Finally Harry turned to look at Draco. “How are your parents?” Draco knew that Harry still didn’t like Lucius much, but he and Narcissa got on quite well these days.

“Father is the same. Mother said to give you a kiss.” Draco smirked. “Should I?”

Harry smiled, and Draco found he missed the blush he’d gotten so often from Harry when he used to tease this way. These days, he was used to Draco’s teasing. It was too bad he no longer took it seriously, though. If he’d asked, Draco would have given him almost anything. But he also knew that unless Harry said yes, he’d never dare it. Not at this stage, with Ginny still in the picture. It was just too dangerous, and might undo everything. So instead, he watched as Harry laughed softly, his heart tightening a bit at how easily Harry could laugh it off. “Consider it given, Draco,” he said with a grin.

To hide his hurt, Draco played it up, mock-pouting, which only made Harry grin more. Then he did his best to shift the conversation away from their lovelife-that-wasn’t. “And how is work?”

“Same as usual. Nothing as exciting as I always expected being an Auror would be, but it passes the time.”

“I don’t know why you bother, then. You could have your choice of careers. Hell, you have enough money never to work again, Harry. I never did understand it.”

Harry shrugged. “I just…I don’t know. It felt right, that’s all.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know.” Harry turned and leaned on the railing looking out over the garden. “I don’t know what I want,” he said softly.

Draco put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Maybe you should start to think about it, at least? I mean, with Kingsley gone, who knows what the Ministry will be like.”

Harry nodded. “True. But…I have to at least give the new Minister a chance, right?” Mafalda Hopkirk had been made new Minister for Magic only a month after Kingsley had announced he would retire at the end of the year. She was being heralded as the beginning of a new era. Draco couldn’t help but wonder what Kingsley thought of that. He was fairly certain Harry wasn’t pleased with the claim.

As if in response to the thought, Harry frowned. “I don’t know. Do you?” Draco would have liked to hear him say no, but it would be far better if they let the new Minister trip herself up all on her own. Then Harry would come to them instead of being forced.

“Yeah.” Harry didn’t really sound too sure, though. “I have to until she proves me wrong, at least…” More like right, but Draco wasn’t about to say that.

He squeezed Harry’s shoulder instead. He’d have to talk to his father about the fact that Harry was already beginning to doubt his place in the Ministry. But for now… “Why don’t we go back in and see if we can find Shacklebolt?”

Harry nodded, then turned and headed back towards the party, Draco following closely behind.

~ * ~

Within weeks, Harry was ready to take a Muggle plane to Barbados to drag Kingsley back to England and force him by wand-point to take the Minister’s office once more.

Minister Hopkirk wasn’t of the same stripe as Fudge. She was well-spoken and charismatic, and the people adored her.

To Harry, though, she was worse. Fudge had clung to power because he’d gotten used to having it. She had obviously been looking forward to having the office, and wasn’t about to let anyone take it from her. And between the decrees she passed down about how to deal with the unwanted of society, and the way she used the press to convince the Wizarding World she was doing the right thing, Harry was certain that the old pureblood prejudices would soon pale in comparison.

She had set up hearings for non-human creatures with near human intelligence, officially to determine how best to integrate them into society, but Harry had only been at two of the hearings before he’d had to be officially excused. What he’d seen had turned his stomach. The Minister spent the entire time finding ways to twist the poor creatures’ fears against them, or to prove that they were out to somehow destroy the Wizarding World.

After the second, he had gone to the head of the MLE and told him that he refused to attend any further trials. Luckily, he had still had enough clout that his boss had agreed he wasn’t needed there, and could better be used in other ways.

Still, even that wasn’t enough to spare him from the effects of the new laws the Minister was putting into place. Mandatory Magical testing for all students before they could even attend Hogwarts. A new detention area for Magical beings who had been determined to be a danger to the community. Specialized housing for Muggle parents of Witches and Wizards who were attending Hogwarts. All of it turned his stomach. And yet, few others seemed disturbed by all this.

Even Hermione seemed undisturbed by it all. “It’s good for the Muggleborns, Harry. Don’t you see that? They’re actually part of this world a good deal more. They feel part of it from the beginning.”

“Hermione…their parents aren’t wizards. And forcing them out of their own homes, making them part of a world where they can’t ever be fully part of the community…what good does that do them?”

“It keeps them safe, Harry. The way my parents weren’t. Or Dean’s. Or any of the other students whose parents were affected by the war.”

“It makes them an easier target, Hermione, not less of one!”

“You don’t understand, Harry…”

“Oh, please, Hermione. Tell me what it is I don't understand! I was more of a target than you ever were!”

Hermione huffed. “Yes. But you never cared for the Dursleys like Dean and I care for our families.”

It had felt like a slap in the face, and Harry had had to walk away from her after that. Did she honestly think he wouldn’t have been horrified if someone had hurt the Dursleys because of him?

The problem was, every time they got together with Ron and Hermione, all Ginny and Hermione wanted to do was talk about the Minister’s new or upcoming proposals. And each seemed worse than the last. Ron was fine on his own. He was more than willing to avoid the topic, as it had far too much to do with work for his taste. But when the girls were involved, nothing could seem to deter them from the topic.

The only time he managed to get away from the topic of the new Minister and her laws was when he was with Draco or Blaise, particularly when he spent time with them at Malfoy Manor. Despite the presence of Lucius in the house, it was the only place that truly felt comfortable any longer.

Unfortunately, it also led to more rows with Ginny, who didn’t want him anywhere near the Manor, let alone Draco. Their arguments grew worse, and Harry spent a few nights on the couch, just about ready to break it off. No relationship was worth this. The good times were growing fewer and farther between.

The solution came when he visited Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. He and George had grown a bit closer after the war, and he’d taken a slightly more active role at the shop for the first year after the war while he’d finished his schooling. Nowadays he did his best to visit at least once a month so the two could catch up, and so that George had someone to bounce his ideas off of.

Normally, during their visits, Harry stayed away from the subject of George’s sister. George didn’t need to bother himself with their troubles, after all. But this time, he’d spent three nights on the couch, and it was beginning to wear on his back. George couldn’t help but notice the wince when Harry sat down.

“What’s up, mate? You look like someone’s been beating on you. Bad capture today?”

Harry looked up at him, a little startled. “Um…no…lots of paperwork today, in fact.”

“What’s wrong, then?” George asked, frowning deeper.

“Just been a bad few nights, George, that’s all.”

George rolled his eyes. “Another row with Gin, then?”

Harry hadn’t realized George had noticed that he and Ginny fought so much. He’d buried himself in this place after Fred’s death. Sometimes he didn’t even come to the Burrow for Christmas with the family. “Um…yeah, actually.” He certainly didn’t seem aware enough to notice others’ problems. Not that Harry blamed him.

George shook his head. “She’s worse than mum, I swear. What is it now? Not Teddy and Andromeda again, I hope?” Ginny had thrown a fit when Andromeda had begun spending time with her remaining sister once more, and Teddy had begun spending time with Harry and Draco. She’d sworn that Draco would teach him dark spells. They’d actually broken up over that one. They’d gotten back together after Harry had promised that he would never leave the two alone together. It had been a lie, of course, but he didn’t tell her that, and so long as she stopped being huffy about it, it was enough.

“No. Just been spending too much time at the Manor these days.” Harry sighed. “She treats it like a criminal offense, George! Like they haven’t paid for their crimes.” He scowled, then looked away. This wasn’t something he should be talking to George about. After all, the Weasleys generally agreed that all the Death Eaters were at fault for Fred’s death. And that included the Malfoys. “Sorry,” he said softly.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Harry. You’ve a right to your friends.”

Harry waited for more, but when George simply continued to work on his latest gadget, he frowned. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m spending time with the Malfoys?”

George looked up to meet his eyes. “Why should it? They’re not teaching you dark spells are they?”

“No. Of course not! Besides, you know as well as I do that I already know plenty of dark spells. I don’t need their help with that.”

George snorted. “No. I suppose not.” He was silent for a moment, then met Harry’s eyes again. “You know…if you wanted to keep her off your back…you could just tell her you’re here when you visit Malfoy. Just let me know ahead of time, of course.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Course, mate. You’re my best investor, after all,” George said with a slight smile. “‘Course I will ask for something in return at some point…” He winked, then went back to his work.

“Something? Like what?”

George smiled enigmatically. “Oh, I’m sure I can come up with an idea or two…”

~ * ~

Things were going far better than Lucius had expected them to. Potter might not be enamoured of Draco yet, but it was obvious that he felt as close, if not closer to him than to his old friends. And that was just what they wanted. Every time Potter visited the Manor, Lucius could feel his goal coming that much closer.

Now all he had to do was find a way to pull the boy deeper. Draco would do as he was told, and Blaise seemed to be following their lead as well. Still, they had a long way to go before Potter would be theirs. More work was needed.

And that meant talking over their next step with Draco.

Draco, though, seemed less inclined to do what his father was suggesting. “I don’t see why Blaise should be first, father. This is Potter we’re talking about. How do you know he won’t fall for him? That’s what he’s like.”

“That is what we are trying to get him past, Draco. His need to dwell on such weaknesses as love. To focus only on one person. And until we have, you are not to sleep with him. Is that clear?”

“Yes, father,” Draco said sourly, looking much as he had when Lucius had told him he would not get Draco a new broom after Potter had gotten his Firebolt in their third year.

“I expect Blaise will know what is required of him?” Lucius asked his son.

“He knows,” Draco said sourly. “He’s been looking forward to it.” If the look on Draco’s face was to be believed, likely he had been gloating about it.

“Good. Tell him he is to owl me as soon as he has managed the deed.”

“Yes, father,” Draco said, still scowling. “Is that all?”

Lucius had to use all his self control to keep from rolling his eyes at his son’s sulk. “Take the boy out, if you must. The three of you. I want you nowhere alone with him until Blaise has succeeded. Perhaps you can find a temporary playmate while you are all out together.”

“And if I don’t want anyone else?”

“Then I suppose you will have to wait, will you not?”

Draco’s scowl deepened. “Yes, father.” He was silent for a moment, then met Lucius’s eyes. “May I be excused now, or are you planning on lecturing me further?”

“That will do for now. Just keep my warnings in mind, Draco. I won’t have our progress ruined by your impatience.”

Draco stood. “It won’t be. I’ll…go owl Blaise now.” He turned and left.

Lucius watched him leave, then sighed softly to himself. The boy would have to learn patience at some point. He only hoped that Draco’s need to own Potter didn’t ruin any chance they had of controlling him.

Chanting a spell, Lucius opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out some notes. Only those who knew the words to the spell would be able to get to them. And right now, that meant he was the only one who could.

The list of resources was drastically reduced from those he had had access to when Draco had been young, but there were enough to manage their plans. So long as Draco didn’t cave to his desires.

Now all Lucius had to do was set certain events in motion. Once everything was in place, Potter would be theirs.

~ * ~

“Fucking hell!” Harry was ready to hex something. Or someone. This really was far too much to expect.

“What’s up, mate?” Ron asked, looking worried. “You look like you’ve been assigned to a Gilderoy Lockhart book signing…”

“Nearly as bad. I’ve been assigned to guard the Minister for the international conference,” he said, growling the words.

“Oh?” Ron knew how much Harry hated the Minister. He couldn’t seem to understand why, but he was at least sympathetic about it. “Maybe we could switch assignments?”

Harry snorted. “Unlikely. She asked for me specifically. I doubt she’ll let me off that easy.”

“Well…at least I’ll be there. I’ve been assigned to the protection detail for the group. And Ginny will be in town as well. Maybe we can go see her on our downtime,” he said with an overly bright smile.

“Maybe,” Harry grunted. Ginny had been touring Europe with her team, and Harry had barely spared her a thought. That might have been because he’d been spending so much time with Draco and Blaise. He smirked slightly when the thought brought to mind their last trip on the town. He’d always been flattered by how the other two men flirted with him, but it had been ego-boosting to have other blokes flirting with him when the other two had taken him to their favorite hangout, which had turned out to be a gay bar.

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you,” Ron said, breaking into his memory of the night.

“Hm? Oh…I suppose.” Truthfully, Harry hadn’t even opened her latest owl yet. And her letters were coming less often with each passing day.

“Look…why don’t you come for dinner tonight? I’m sure Hermione would love to see you, and we could talk about plans for the trip.”

“Hm? Oh…I can’t. I have plans.”

Ron frowned. “With Malfoy?”

“No. George, actually.” Harry’d only used the excuse a few times so far, but for once, it wasn’t an excuse. George had asked if Harry could show him the Manor, and after asking Draco for permission, he’d agreed to do just that.

“George? Not sitting around that place again, are you?”

“No, actually. I’m going to take him out. It’ll be good for him.”

“Yeah,” Ron said slowly. “Thanks. He…won’t open up to me.”

Harry frowned. He knew it was hard for the Weasleys, the way George had withdrawn after losing Fred, but there was nothing he could do to change that. “He’s my friend. Hopefully…it will help.”

“I hope so, too,” Ron said softly. “Well…another time, then.”

Harry nodded. “Sometime soon, before we leave. Next week, maybe.”

Ron looked like he wanted to protest, but then nodded. “All right. I should probably get going. See you tomorrow, mate?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” Harry settled at his desk. He still wasn’t happy about the assignment. Maybe he could talk to Draco about it. Draco always made him feel better about stuff like that. He seemed to have a different way of seeing things that always helped. Hopefully he would be able to work that magic tonight.

But first, Harry had to go get George.

~ * ~

Draco was pacing while he waited for Blaise to come through the Floo. He hated Lucius’s insistence that Blaise be Harry’s first. It meant they couldn’t be alone together. But at the same time, Draco desperately wanted to be. And seeing Blaise plaster himself all over Harry hurt. Every single time.

When Blaise appeared, Draco wasn’t able to work up his usual smile for his friend. This whole thing had strained their friendship—not that Lucius cared, so long as they got Harry where they wanted him.

“Is he here yet?” Blaise asked, once he’d brushed himself clean.

“No.” Draco led the way up the staircase. “He’s bringing George Weasley with him, so I don’t know how long it will take him to get here.”

“Weasley? The twin?”

Draco nodded. “He asked if he could see the place. Not sure why.”

“Odd…”

“They’re friends. It’s not like I can say no without making him wonder why. So I’ll just make sure he’s not left alone anywhere he might cause trouble…”

“But otherwise find a spot to tuck him so that we can be alone with Harry?” Blaise asked with a smirk.

Draco met his eyes, his stomach sinking. “Something like that,” he said softly.

“Is that why is he’s coming by? Because Weasley wanted to see the place?”

“No. He said he was going off to France in a little over a week, and he wanted to spend some time with us before then.”

“France? To see that tart of his?” Blaise asked with a scowl.

“No. Some sort of assignment, apparently. I know that father’s been working on getting the Minister to spend some time there, so I think that’s why they’re going. Some sort of friendship treaty between the two magical communities, I guess.”

“Ah.” They both knew that was part of Lucius’s overall plan, though he’d refused to tell Draco too much, telling him that he was better off not knowing.

“Yeah.”

“Well…we should give him a good send-off, at least. We could take him to that club again…” Both looked up as the wards sounded.

“That will be them. Stay here. I’ll bring them up.” Draco made his way down the stairs to wait by the front door, watching as the two men came up the pathway to the manor.

~ * ~

Once Harry had changed, he Apparated to the store, where George was just shutting down for the night. “Hey, Harry.”

“Hey, George. All ready?”

“Just about. Come on in. I have something I need to grab.”

“Sure.” Harry moved inside, and heard George close the door behind him. “In the back?”

“Yeah. But you can stay here. I won’t be long.” George shot him a smile, then ducked into the back.

Harry wondered what George was up to, but he left it alone. It was a big deal that he was even consenting to leave the store. He hadn’t done so since the last Christmas holiday. And even then, he’d spent most of his time alone in the corner. Not even Teddy or Victoire had been able to cheer him. So Harry wasn’t about to jeopardize the opportunity of getting him out and about.

George was back in a moment, and smiled at Harry. “All ready. We Apparating?”

Harry nodded. “You know how to get there?”

“Yep. Looked it up. I’m right behind you, mate.”

“All right.” Harry smiled at him, then Apparated to the front gate of the manor and waited for George to appear.

He didn’t have to wait long. George appeared around a corner after a moment. “Apparated a bit too far away. So…this it?” he asked, looking up at the gate.

“Yep. I know it’s a bit imposing, but…”

“Actually, I was expecting a lot more Gothic than this, so....” He shrugged. “Shall we?”

“Right.” Harry raised his wand and the gate opened for them, then led the way up the walk. “Draco knows we’re coming, so they should be waiting for us.”

George grinned. “They weren’t horrified by having a Weasley in their home?”

“They’ve changed, George. You’ll see.” He led the way up the walk, then was about to knock when the door opened, Draco grinning at him from the other side.

“Hello, Harry.” He glanced at George, a long, perusing look. “Weasley.”

“Be nice, Draco,” Harry chided him.

“I will. I promised.” He held out his hand to George. “Welcome to our home, Weasley.”

George raised his eyebrow, then took his hand. “Thank you, Malfoy. Quite the estate.”

“We’re fond of it. Do come in and look around…” He stepped back from the door so they could enter.

Harry let George go first, remembering the first time he had come here after the war. Of course, his memories had coloured his perception of the place, but those memories had faded in the face of others. Long afternoons talking and walking and playing Quidditch here. He barely remembered Hermione’s screams any longer.

He could see George gauging the place, but his expression was guarded, so Harry wasn’t certain what he thought.

“We’ve lived here for many generations…I can’t imagine living anywhere else…” Draco was saying now.

“Do you get lost often?” George asked him.

“It’s not that big, Weasley. Just because we don’t live in a…” He glanced at Harry and abruptly switched topics. “Would you like a tour?”

George glanced at Harry. “If Harry doesn’t mind…”

“Actually, Blaise is up in my sitting room. He could visit him while I showed you around…unless you wanted him to come with us?”

George looked between them. “I don’t mind…if Harry doesn’t.”

Harry smiled and shook his head. “Not at all, George. I’m sure Draco will take good care of you.”

“If you’re sure…” George said.

“Absolutely.” Harry put his hand on George’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sure you’ll have a great tour. And Blaise and I can talk until you’ve had your fill.”

Draco nodded. “I promise not to let any of the carnivorous plants near him,” he said with a grin.

“You have carnivorous plants?” George said. Harry grinned as he recognized the avaricious tone. The two of them would be just fine.

“See you both soon …” When the two waved distractedly at him, he smiled, then turned and made his way up the main stairs.

~ * ~

Blaise had been looking forward to this. So much depended on him leading Harry on a careful dance, but after their visit to the club, he knew it wouldn’t take much more to convince Harry he wanted more than just compliments and whistles from guys.

When Draco had invited him over tonight, he’d known what Lucius was expecting. This was a test. To see if he could succeed. Or if they still had to sever his relationship with the Weasley girl before they started down this path.

When Harry appeared in the doorway, though, his worries faded. Just the smile on Harry’s face told him his battle was at least half won. “Harry…” He stood and moved to Harry’s side. “So good to see you. Draco said Weasley’s brother is visiting as well?”

“He is. Draco’s showing him around. I didn’t know you’d be here. It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” Blaise said, kissing his cheek. “Always good to see you. Come sit with me?”

Harry nodded, letting Blaise tug him to the sofa he’d been perched on. “Just came to visit?”

“Oh…you know Draco and I…Can’t ever get enough of each other. And you?”

It was rare to see Harry blush these days, but Blaise had phrased his statement in a way he knew likely to cause just that with the image he had planted in his mind. “Er…George wanted to see the place.”

“Of course,” Blaise told him with a smirk, scooting closer. “We were just talking, you know…”

“You were?” Harry asked.

“Mm hm. About how to give you a good send-off,” Blaise said with a smirk. He could have sworn he’d seen Harry’s eyes dilate at the words.

“Oh?” He was obviously trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked, and Blaise couldn’t resist scooting closer to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Well…you remember the club we took you to?” Harry nodded. “You looked like you were having a good time there…so we thought we might take you there again.” Of course, the true highlight of the night had been when Harry had gotten sloshed enough to actually flirt back. He’d almost managed to get a kiss from him, but Draco had interrupted. Still, he was sure that this time, he could manage it. If Draco could stop acting so jealous.

“That would be nice. I had fun.”

“So did we,” Blaise said, leaning closer. “We’re looking forward to it.”

Before he could try for a kiss, though, the door opened, and Harry jumped back, then grinned up at Draco as he entered. “Hey, Draco.” After a second, though, he frowned. “Where’s George?”

Draco was scowling at Blaise, but at the question, he turned a smile on Harry. “He wanted to look around the library. He said he’d be fine. I told him to call one of the house-elves if he wanted to find us.” He moved to settle on Harry’s other side. “So…what were you talking so intently about?”

“I was telling him about our plans to take him out again before he runs off to France…”

“Ah. Was that what that was?” The look Draco shot him told him he knew exactly what Blaise had been trying.

“Yes. I’m flattered, actually. It always surprises me how great you guys are. I mean, we used to hate each other…”

Harry’s words defused the situation, and both men smiled at him. “We just didn’t know you well enough, Harry, that’s all.”

Draco nodded, scooting closer. “Besides, you were adorable there. I’ve missed seeing you flush…” He grinned as Harry did just that.

“Some of the men there are rather…shameless, aren’t they?”

“Just a bit,” Blaise told him, scooting closer to Harry’s other side. “That’s how gay men are when we’re…in our element.”

“Which for Blaise includes any space he happens to be in,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“He’s not that bad, Draco. I think his attitude is refreshing, actually.”

“Refreshing? That he acts like everyone should be fucking him at all times?”

Blaise was pressed close enough to Harry to feel him shudder at the words, but even had he not felt it, he wouldn’t have been able to miss his flush. “I don’t mind,” he muttered.

“That’s only because you want him, too, don’t you?” Draco’s tone was bitter.

Harry looked up to meet Draco’s eyes. “I’m straight!”

Draco stood up. “Oh, bull shit, Harry.” He turned to look at him. Every time either one of us flirts with you in a way you’re not expecting, you go redder than Weasley’s ears when I bait him. You might not have tried before, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t curious.”

“I…” Harry looked between them. “But…I have a girlfriend.”

Blaise chuckled softly. “He’s right, Harry. It really doesn’t mean that much. Especially these days. Are you honestly going to say that the thought has never occurred to you?”

Harry met his eyes. “I suppose I’d be an idiot if I said I hadn’t considered it…”

“Yes,” Draco said, and Harry turned towards him.

“Draco… It’s not…” he glanced at Blaise once more, then back at Draco. “You’re my friends. It’s not something I’d ever considered seriously. I thought it was just how you both are. But it’s not, is it?”

“Does it matter?” Blaise asked. “We’re your friends because we want to be, Harry. Anything else is just a bonus, right Draco?”

Draco’s eyes met Blaise’s, but it was a moment before he nodded. He looked at Harry. “We know you’re with Ginevra, so we haven’t wanted to push. But that doesn’t mean that our flirting means nothing, either. And if things change…” He moved to settle beside Harry again. “You know where we are.”

Harry looked down. “Yeah…”

Blaise stroked fingers through Harry’s hair. He caught Draco’s scowl, but knew he wouldn’t interfere this time if Harry responded. It was a victory that Blaise couldn’t help but savour.

Harry looked up to meet Blaise’s eyes, licking his lips. “I suppose…one kiss wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?” he asked softly.

“No one,” Blaise assured him, not looking at Draco, though he was certain if he had, that Draco’s eyes would have been shooting daggers. He stroked Harry’s cheek. “Why? Do you want to?” The answer was obvious to him, but they needed Harry to realize that it was truly what he wanted.

He didn’t have to wait long. As soon as Harry leaned forward, Blaise did the rest, leaning in to press their lips together. The feeling of Harry’s breath puffing against his lips was exhilarating, and Blaise couldn’t resist darting his tongue out to trace lightly over the seam of Harry’s lips.

Harry gasped, pulling back. “I don’t know…maybe this is a bad idea…?”

Draco met Blaise’s eyes for a moment, then tugged Harry’s face to turn it towards him. “Why not, Harry? Who are we hurting? It’s just a kiss…”

“But…Ginny…”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Blaise whispered in his ear, even as he watched Draco press his lips to Harry’s. Both gasped softly at the contact, and Blaise shook his head. Draco’s father wouldn’t be pleased. If he found out, anyway…

There was a sound at the doorway, and Draco and Harry broke apart as Blaise looked up. But it wasn’t Draco’s father who stood there.

~ * ~

A bolt of fear shot through Harry at the sight of George standing in the doorway, and he stood up quickly. “Shit…George…this isn’t what it looks like…”

“Oh? So you weren’t kissing Malfoy, then?”

“No. Well…yes. But I’ve never…not before, George. I swear it.” Fuck. What if he told Ginny? Worse, what if he told Ron?

George shook his head. “Look, Harry. What you do with your friends is your own business, but I won’t help you cheat on Ginny. If this is what you want, though…maybe you should think about things a bit?”

“Maybe.” Harry was scared to look back at Blaise and Draco. He wasn’t sure he could face them right now. “Maybe we should get going?”

“Harry…you don’t have to…” Draco said.

“If you think you need to,” Blaise said. “But when you’re ready to talk…owl us. We’d still like to take you out before you go off to France…”

Harry nodded. “Right. I’ll…owl.” It was weird, he thought, as he and George walked down the stairs and through the front door. George should have been angrier at him. After all, he was Ginny’s brother.

He shot a glance at George, who seemed placid as ever. He smiled softly at Harry. “Meant it, Harry. What you do is your own business. Just decide first, okay? I know Gin’s been giving you a hard time, but don’t just run to them because they’re easier to deal with.”

“Right.” He knew it was good advice. It had just been such a surprise…the two of them really wanting him…

“I’ll talk to you later, Harry,” George said as they got to the end of the walk. Harry looked up, surprised. The walk had taken no time at all.

“Right. See you, George.”

George smiled. “Yeah. Just…do me a favor? Go home? Think about it first? And break up with Gin if you do decide they’re what you really want?”

Harry nodded sheepishly. “I will George. And thanks.”

“No problem, mate.” And then he Apparated away.

Harry glanced back at the house, wondering if Draco and Blaise were watching him through the curtains, or laughing at him for being a fool. But then, they’d had plenty of opportunity to do that before now, and hadn’t seemed inclined…

Confused, Harry shook his head, spinning on the spot, then apparating to his flat. Time to do some thinking. It had been a very strange day.

The problem was, Harry wasn’t sure what he wanted, now that Blaise and Draco weren’t right there, filling his head with images. He knew he liked them, but was he really interested in either of them in that way?

Then there was Ginny, which complicated things a bit. It was true they had been fighting almost constantly since the end of the war. But he was sure he loved her. Didn’t he? If that was true, though, why were they fighting? And why did he want to kiss anyone else? Was Draco right? Was he gay? Or at least, partly? He knew things were a bit more complicated than that, but it came back to the same thing, didn’t it? Being interested in another guy—or two, if he counted Blaise as well—meant that he was bi at least, right?

The question wasn’t so much whether or not he was gay. What it really boiled down to was whether or not he should be dating Ginny at all. If he wasn’t sure what he wanted, maybe that meant they shouldn’t be together right now? He ignored the small voice that sounded a bit too much like Draco that suggested they should never have gotten together in the first place.

Then there was how Ron would react to he and Ginny breaking things off. Harry’d been on the receiving end of Ron’s temper enough times to want to avoid it if at all possible. He knew that that wasn’t enough of a reason to stay with her, but he wasn’t sure if there were other reasons to stay with her. He knew there had been at one time. He just couldn’t remember what they were.

Shaking his head, Harry began to get ready for bed. He’d just have to think about it. Maybe he should write to Ginny? She deserved to talk this out, after all. He’d read her letter tomorrow, then send a response. If nothing else, he could do that much.

After a night of tossing and turning, and overly sensual dreams about Draco and Blaise doing wicked things to each other as a show for him, Harry was almost too groggy to remember the letter. As he was leaving, the sight of the unopened letter on the hall table, he grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket, then Apparated to work.

The day passed in a sleep-deprived blur, and it wasn’t until Ron asked how things had gone with George the night before that Harry remembered his dilemma. “Went fine. Nothing special, but I think it was good for him,” Harry said distractedly, reaching into his pocket where the unopened letter waited.

“Good. Good. Look…Hermione wanted to know which day would be best for you for supper. She’s decided she wants to cook the whole thing herself…” He looked pained. Hermione was an adequate cook, but her meals tended to be far more complicated and temper-inducing than they needed to be.

“Um…Well…Monday, I suppose? Or would Sunday be better?”

“Sunday would be great, Mate. If you’re willing?”

Harry smiled. “Yeah. It’s been too long.”

“Great. I’ll just…go let her know.” Ron hurried off toward the owlry, and Harry smiled and shook his head, then pulled out Ginny’s letter.

Having been anticipating what he should tell her, the contents took Harry completely by surprise. I’ve met someone here…. It took three readings before the sentence made sense. Ginny was breaking up with him! The world went red in a flash of fury. How dare she? She’d been cheating on him?

Harry’s temper cooled as he reread the note. She went on to say that she hadn’t approached them about this, and that she knew they would have to talk before anything happened.

It was startling, and Harry had to battle his anger. After all, she was the one who insisted that they were destined, wasn’t she? She was the one who had waited oh-so-patiently until Harry had been ready. But apparently now he wasn’t good enough, now that she had him?

Harry pushed away from his desk and began to pace, his worries from the night before completely gone in the face of this news. How could she? Making him feel like everything falling apart was his fault? Suddenly, he wished he’d gone further the night before. He knew Blaise and Draco would have offered more if he had been willing. Well, he was damned willing now. He had half a mind to go to the Manor right now…

Ron reappeared, interrupting that train of thought. “Hey, Harry. Want to come out and get lunch with me?”

“Um…not now, Ron. I…have some paperwork to get to.” Which was sort of true. He had to write back to Ginny, after all.

“Oh…okay. Well…sent off the owl. Let you know what she says tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. Have a good lunch, Ron,” Harry said, sitting down and pulling the letter toward him again. He didn’t see Ron leave.

It took him most of his lunch break to find the right wording. By the time he had, his temper had cooled. Maybe this was best for both of them? Obviously they both had other interests now. Surely this could end amiably?

Finished, he pulled another sheet of parchment from the stack he kept in his drawer, and began to jot a note to Draco suggesting their club date for that Friday. He needed something to get his mind off this, after all. Not to mention he wanted to see if they were actually serious in their interest.

~ * ~

After their visit earlier in the week, Draco wasn’t sure this was a good idea. But he wasn’t about to let Harry be here alone with Blaise, so here he was.

Harry seemed different tonight. The first time they’d brought him, he’d been a bit stiff, but he’d soon loosened up; enough to smile or laugh when others flirted with him. Tonight he looked like he was going to be sick, and was having trouble meeting their eyes when they talked to him. “Are you okay, Harry?”

Turning to meet Draco’s eyes, Harry nodded. “Yeah. Just…been a strange week.”

“Strange?” Blaise asked with a grin. “I didn’t think the kiss was that bad, Harry. Should we try again?”

Draco scowled, rolling his eyes. “Go stuff your head in a bucket of ice, Blaise. What do you mean, Harry? Did something else happen?”

Harry shrugged, swallowing another gulp of his drink. “Letter from Ginny.”

“And?” Draco asked. Obviously they’d started fighting long-distance, for a letter to bother Harry like this.

“I…think we’re breaking up…”

Draco didn’t trust himself to speak. But Blaise’s response said more than enough for both of them. “About time. Now all you have to do is forget the bitch.” He grabbed Harry’s hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”

“I don’t know, Blaise…” He glanced at Draco, then back at Blaise. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come tonight…”

At a glare from Blaise as a push, Draco shook his head. “Nonsense, Harry. You just need to take your mind of things. And what better way to do that than a night out with your friends? Blaise and I will take good care of you,” he said with a smile.

Harry shot him a smile, the echoes of nerves and sadness fading a little. “Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

“Yes. We will. Now come dance before I think you don’t like me any more,” Blaise said with a smirk, tugging once more at Harry.

This time, Harry nodded, letting Blaise lead him to the dance floor. Once they were away, Draco let his scowl show. He didn’t want to see them together, and yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. The way Blaise ground against Harry, his hands seeming everywhere.

Still, he had to watch, just in case. What if they tried to sneak away together? He couldn’t allow that to happen.

A voice interrupted his disgusted perusal of the two of them. “Excuse me?”

Draco looked up at the guy who’d stopped next to the table. “Yes?”

“You look like you could use a dance?”

The bloke was attractive enough, fit with deep auburn hair and bright eyes, but he wasn’t Harry. “Not tonight, thanks.”

The guy looked between Draco and where Harry was dancing with Blaise on the floor. “He your boyfriend?”

“No,” Draco said sourly.

“But you wish he was?”

Draco glowered at him. “And what’s that to you?”

“Sorry. Just…trying to help. Maybe making him realize what he’s missing would help?” He smiled hopefully.

“No. Now scram.”

The guy scowled. “Fine. Your loss.” He stalked off across the bar and found himself another partner, but Draco’s gaze was already back on Blaise and Harry where they appeared to be moments away from fucking each other on the dance floor.

“Fucking hell,” Draco growled, getting to his feet. He made his way out onto the dance floor, then pulled them apart. Harry was flushed and panting, his green eyes glowing in a way Draco’d never seen before. If Blaise hadn’t caused it, he’d have said he looked gorgeous that way. To distract himself from the sight, Draco glowered at Blaise. “This isn’t the place for that. Come on. Let’s at least take this back to the Manor, all right?”

Blaise smirked. “What is your problem, Draco? It’s nothing you and I haven’t done here… Or do I need to guess about your sudden prudishness?” He shot a glance at Harry, who looked confused.

“Can we just head back to the Manor? You can…manhandle him there. Far more comfortably. And with less of an audience.”

The words had Harry flushing. “Er…yeah…” Obviously, he’d forgotten where he was. “I’d rather not do that sort of thing with other people around.”

Blaise looked slightly contrite at that. “Of course, Harry. We wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He led Harry off the floor, his arm around Harry’s shoulders, and Draco trailed behind them, still glowering.

The trip to the Manor was blissfully short, and as soon as they made it to the second floor, Blaise led Harry off to the guest wing. Draco watched after them, his stomach dropping at the way they leaned into each other, trading kisses. He turned away and headed towards his rooms, trying to distract himself from what he knew they were off to do. It wasn’t fair.

Draco slept very little that night, crawling into his bed well after dawn, his head spinning with the wine he’d drunk to try to distract himself.

Lucius came in sometime around eight to shake him awake. Draco blinked blearily up at him. “Father?”

“The house-elves tell me we have a guest?” he asked. To anyone else, his expression would have been passive. But Draco saw the slant to his lips and the twinkle in his eye that showed he was amused.

Draco sat up and nodded. “We brought Harry back after being out last night.” The memory of the two of them heading down the hall made Draco’s heart clench again.

Lucius smirked at the words. “And?”

Sighing, Draco reached for his robe. “And…I assume he and Blaise are…” Draco closed his eyes, swallowing down the bile. “Happily wrapped around each other still,” he ground out.

“Actually, the elf told me Blaise left over an hour ago. Perhaps you should check on our guest?”

Draco looked up at his father. He knew that was implicit permission to sleep with Harry now that Blaise had ‘broken him in.’ “Yes. I suppose I should.” He stood, pulling his robe around himself.

“Perhaps you and he can have an extended…breakfast,” Lucius said with a smirk that made Draco’s stomach churn.

“Perhaps.” He turned away. “I suppose you wish me to come and see you once he is gone?”

“Yes.”

Draco nodded, then headed towards Harry’s room. The morning light was muted the guest wing, and Draco wondered if Harry was awake, and just how much he and Blaise had done the night before.

By the time he had reached the room, he was not so sure he wanted to follow his father’s rules in this. It hurt, thinking of the two of them curled around each other. At least Blaise was gone, so he wouldn’t have to see it. But that didn’t make it any easier to face Harry.

He rapped at the door. “Harry? You awake?”

It was a few moments before Draco heard feet shuffling on the other side of the door, and then it was opened. “Wha…? Draco?”

“Morning, sleepy head. That’s what you get for over indulging last night. Do you need a potion?” He pushed past Harry, trying to ignore his rumpled state, or the state of the bed. “I could send for one. Or breakfast?”

“‘M fine,” Harry muttered, moving back to the bed and dropping down onto it. “Time is it?”

“About eight thirty.”

Harry fell back onto the bed. “Too early.”

“Weekend or not, we weren’t out that late, Harry… Or did the two of you…stay up late?” Draco tried unsuccessfully to keep the bitterness from his tone.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows. “Why? Jealous?” His tone was unmistakably amused.

“Yes!” Draco hated how petulant he sounded. It wasn’t fair, damn it!

Harry smirked. “You could have joined us, you know.”

Draco made a face and turned away. He couldn’t have, and he knew it. But he couldn’t say so to Harry. “Yeah…well…”

“Well, it’s your own fault then, isn’t it?”

Draco turned and glowered at him. “You’re getting too big for that ego of yours, Potter. I’d watch it if I were you.”

Harry’s eyes went round. “Draco…I was just teasing.”

Draco turned away again. He’d known it, but his own ego was too bruised to allow him not to respond. “Sorry. I just…”

He was stopped by Harry’s hand on his shoulder. “Maybe…”

“No. I think…it would be best if you went home.” Draco looked up again to meet Harry’s eyes. “We’ll see you when you get back, though. Right?” And then maybe it would be his turn. He couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping with Harry this morning. Not when everyone was expecting it of him.

Harry nodded. “Of course. I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”

“Good.” There was a pause, then Draco leaned in to kiss him. It wasn’t enough, but just feeling Harry’s hand on his shoulder as they kissed helped. “Stay safe in France,” he said when he pulled back.

“I will. You take care of yourself, Draco.” Draco nodded, then left Harry to dress.

~ * ~

The next week went so fast that many things fell by the wayside. A last-minute planning session for those going to France meant that he had to postpone supper with Ron and Hermione Sunday night, and what with one thing and another, they weren’t able to find time to manage it before he and Ron had to leave.

It also meant that he wasn’t able to spend too much time dwelling on his visit with Blaise and Draco and what had happened when they had returned to the Manor. The memories of that night were blurred by the overabundance of drink he’d had at the club, but even so, he could remember the pleasure of it.

The feel of Blaise’s lips around his cock, similar and yet so different from when Ginny had done the same, if grudgingly. Blaise hadn’t been grudging at all. He’d knelt down and sucked him in before Harry could even say a word, and all he’d been able to do was groan and cling to Blaise the best he could without accidentally pulling his hair.

And that pleasure had been nothing to the feeling of being inside him. So tight. He knew now, this was what he’d always expected when he’d been with Ginny before. What he’d craved.

He was still a bit sad Draco hadn’t joined them, and he couldn’t help but wonder why Draco was so bothered by it. He’d seen Draco and Blaise kiss and grope each other plenty of times before. He’d hoped that maybe, that morning, when Draco had come to wake him up, they might have been able to do more, but Draco’s jealousy had been too much. Did really hate him encroaching on his relationship with Blaise? He hadn’t realized they meant that much to each other. Or maybe Draco just wanted them to?

Still, preparations kept Harry from dwelling on things too much, and it was only late at night in his bed that he allowed himself to wonder what it would have been like to have Draco with them.

The trip was as bad as Harry’d been dreading. The Minister dragged him around as though he were the one everyone were there to see, and only rarely did he manage to keep out of the spotlight. Every chance he got, he made sure to lag back with Ron’s group, guarding her from a distance, just the way he preferred.

The two friends kept things light conversation-wise during the trip. While Harry hadn’t been able to visit Ron and Hermione for supper, he and Ron had talked about Ginny before they’d left.

“It really is too bad, Harry. Still…maybe the two of you will get back together sometime. Just need to sow your oats or something, that’s all.”

“Maybe, Ron.” But Harry didn’t think so. He was pretty sure that he and Ginny would be happy if they were friends instead of lovers. He just wasn’t going to say so to Ron. At least, not any time soon.

“At least the duties here have been light so far…”

“For you, maybe,” Harry said. The Minister had insisted Harry be right by his side at every possible moment, and he was about ready to strangle her if he didn’t get away from her soon. “You’re not the one who has to sit next to her tonight at the banquet.”

“True. But maybe it’ll go really fast. You never know.”

“These things never go fast, Ron. Still…at least we have the morning off. That’s something… Where should we go first?”

“Eiffel Tower, of course,” Ron said with a grin. “Promised to bring back one of those little statues for mum.”

“They sell those all over the place, Ron.”

“And to get pictures of us up there,” Ron added, grinning.

“All right. Then I was thinking the Arc de Triomphe, and then lunch near the river.”

“Sounds like a plan, then,” Ron said as he pulled on his coat.

Paris had turned out to be more beautiful than Harry had imagined it would be. It wasn’t London, and he wouldn’t want to live there, but he thought he might need to come back sometime on his own. Or maybe with Blaise and Draco. They both knew the city, after all. And after a day out with them… He suppressed the shiver the thought provoked, following Ron to the Tower.

The view from the tower was breathtaking. Not that he had expected any less. And he was glad to be there with Ron. It was nice to have time together—just the two of them. They rarely had a chance to do that these days between jobs and being with their girlfriends. Harry found he missed it. He’d have to remember to get tickets to a Quidditch match sometime soon so they could go together.

After descending, they crossed the river, walking slowly, talking about anything and everything under the sun in a way they hadn’t done since they were at Hogwarts. It was the best day Harry could remember spending with Ron in a good long time.

It ended too soon, of course. They had to get back to the hotel before one to get dressed in their formal Aurors robes, then head to the lobby to meet the Minister’s party. Harry only hoped they’d be allowed another day like that before they went back to England at the end of the week.

As soon as Minister Hopkirk saw Harry, she beamed, stepping forward to take his arm. Harry winced at the strength of her grip, reminded of the Yule Ball in Fourth Year, then waved at Ron as he moved to walk behind them.

Hopkirk began to chatter at him about all the presents and offers she’d received since arriving in France. Harry rolled his eyes, but held his tongue. It would be over soon enough anyway. He hoped.

They headed down the hall toward the banquet hall, and were just about to enter when a blast shook the hall around them. Harry fell to the floor, barely managing to avoid the Minister, then sprang to his feet. Ron was next to him in a moment. “What was it? Was that a spell?” he asked, scanning the area. “Where did it come from?”

“I don’t know, Ron. Guard her. I’m going to go see if it was in here, or in the hall.”

Ron nodded, moving to the Minister’s side to help her up. “Be careful, mate.”

“I will, Ron. Hopefully it was a one-time detonation to distract us.”

“Potter! You should stay near me,” she called out.

Harry rolled his eyes. Now she was telling him how to do his job? “I’ll be right back, ma’am.” Then he slipped carefully into the banquet hall, looking around for anyone who might have been laying in wait for them, eternally grateful for a moment away from the woman.

The room looked completely unaffected. He was about to cross to the doors on the opposite side of the room when he heard shouting in the hall.

“Ron?” He ran to the door, catching sight of a green glow, fading already when he caught sight of the Minister and the guards who were ringing her. He was just in time to see Ron crumple to the floor, wide-eyed and staring. “No! Ron!” He began to shoot stunning spells toward the attackers, trying desperately to get to his best friend. Ron couldn’t be dead! It wasn’t possible.

The spells missed all but one of their targets, scattering the others. The rest of their team gave chase after them, but Harry had eyes only for Ron. “Ron! Ron, please...” He dropped to his knees, but even as he did, he knew it was no use. He could see Ron wasn’t breathing, and when he reached out to touch him, he was already ice cold. “No…Ron…please…”

He couldn’t remember who had finally pulled him away from Ron’s body. Nor could he remember the hours of questions that followed. All he could think of was that green light, and of Hermione, waiting at home for Ron to return—but he never would. All the missed opportunities and lost chances threatened to drown Harry.

Next Part

Update

2009-11-09T04:58:02Z

So, still here. Sorry to those who I haven't been able to talk with. Way too much going on, trying to get my NaNo written, but I'm getting somewhere.

Check this out:

14276 / 50000 words. 29% done!

Still have to finish off my D_D, but so far, so good. :)

Hope everyone out there is doing well.

elfflame @ 2009-11-02T22:18:00

2009-11-03T06:18:25Z

Oh, God....please let it be good.

One month to go! :D

2009-11-02T17:37:45Z

NaNo Day one

2009-11-02T04:38:45Z

Is officially a success, though I was hoping to get more done. But given how much I did today over all, I'd say I'm doing pretty good.

Word count: 2219

So about 500 words ahead of target for 50k by November 30th.

Also managed to do Recs, the Prophet, edit my K_K and sent that off to the Mods, and got another 250 done on November's D_D. Not to mention brunch with my folks, and watching the latest episode of Merlin with kabal42.

Overall, a good day, so I'm feeling pretty confident. *crosses fingers*

And one more number:
rpwrimo: 1615
From three threads. Not bad. :) At that rate, I'll be at 50k there at the end of the month, too.

November Rec Day!

2009-11-01T15:52:41Z

And I actually have quite a few fics to rec. Mostly adult-rated, of course.

For the Public Good - Blamebrampton
Harry/Draco. Post-war, long one-shot. When London goes into a time of crisis, the Minister sends two of his best people to help out the Prime Minister of England. - PG

OMG, I am so behind on this because everyone and their mother rec'd this back when it came out last year, but--read it if you haven't. It's amazing.

The Boy Who Baked - unknown
Harry/Draco. Post-war, long one-shot. Instead of becoming an Auror, Harry decides to indulge his creative side, and ends up becoming one of the best bakers in Wizarding England. - PG13

Request for source help

2009-10-28T02:16:18Z

My NaNo this year takes place in New York City. Now, I've only visited once, but there are some resources online I can use. Still, it would be nice to have a go-to person for information that might not be easily found. I doubt I'll be asking too often, but I might like someone who knows the city well to read the story afterwards and help punch things up a little to make it more believable as far as place feeling.

Is there anyone out there who lives/used to live in NYC who would be interested in helping that way?

The story itself is an Arthurian modern-day mystery story, with a dash of slash and a bit of discussion of past-lives and how they work.

Addendum

2009-10-25T03:58:09Z

Don't you hate it when the thing stopping you is always the simplest thing? It's figured out.

Still stressed, but less so. Would really like nothing else to explode on me today. Or the next week or so even...

No Love

2009-10-24T21:42:46Z

So, after trying and failing to install a mood theme, I'm giving up after three days.

I'm really upset about it, because it was the first time I'd really tried, and I was really looking forward to having my own Katie McGrath mood theme.

I already had all sorts of plans for making my own, too, because I disagreed with the maker's choices on many of the moods. And maybe another for Arthur/Merlin with kabal42.

So, yeah, really not in a good place right now.

I'm going to go hide over there ====>
At least, until the latest Merlin episode is available and kabal42 is on.

NaNoWriMo update!

2009-10-17T22:37:29Z

So, this year, I am planning something different. But I'm so addicted to the automatic feedback I've gotten in the past from my other Nano attempts, that I have decided to create a separate locked journal just for Nano.

I haven't made it yet, because I wanted to gauge the interest.

The story I'm writing this year is Arthurian, and set in modern-day, with Morgana as the main character. Except that she won't be a she, but a he. There will be a slashy romance (it will pretty much be obvious from the get-go, but I'll keep mum for now), and a few sex scenes, though probably not much above an R rating, if that.

This will not be Merlin-verse, but my own take on the characters, but I think those interested in Merlin or Arthurian stories (particularly slashy ones) might enjoy it.

The only two requests I have of those who ask to friend this journal are as follows:
1 - Do not copy and paste or save the story anywhere on the net, even if the place you do so is locked only to you. I intend to try to get this published in the end, and if it is posted anywhere, I won't be able to do so.
2 - I ask that you put your critical hats on. This doesn't mean that you can't say "wow, great chapter," but that if you do see any flaws, you point them out. Particularly when it comes to the overall flow of the story. No, I'm not asking that every comment you make be of that sort, just that you read it with a critical eye to giving feedback, if anything relevant pops up. I certainly don't mind having people there just to read. :)

So...are there people interested? If so, let me know here, and when I've made the journal, I will nudge you with it. :)

Fic: Passing Fancy - Arthur/Merlin, Uther - PG

2009-10-16T22:35:37Z

Title: Passing Fancy
Author: elfflame
Characters/Pairing: Uther, Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG
Summary: Uther takes a walk on the battlements of the castle.
Word Count: 100X3
A/N: Another drabbly-thing that occurred to me while RPing the boys. :)

Uther has known for some time about Arthur and Merlin. Arthur told him so himself. Uther ignored the word “love” at the time, because Arthur is young, and Uther knew that this was nothing more than a boy’s infatuation.

Merlin understands. He avoids Uther except when he must be seen. It is the way things work, and Arthur is the only one who does not understand that.

He has never seen them together—how they truly interact; how well they fit together.

He had not meant to tonight, but unable to sleep, the thought of cool night air drew him out. He had not expected to stumble over them standing on the battlements and looking down at the town, their bodies pressed close together, Merlin curled under the cloak draped over both their shoulders so that their bodies look almost as one.

Before this, he would never have believed the two could make a good match. Dark and light, gawky and beautiful, noble and peasant. Though he finds it hard to admit, they somehow work. He can see the look of adoration Merlin sends his son, and is stunned by it. With as little thought as he had given his son’s admission, he never considered that the boy might love Arthur back.

When he hears the whisper, it is a moment before he can understand the words. Once he does, he is quick to withdraw. He may not be comfortable with his son taking the boy as his lover, but even he can remember the sound of a lover’s profession when it is needed most, though more than two decades have passed since the last time he heard the same himself.

He walks slowly back to his room, and dreams of Igrane for the first time in over a decade.

Fic: Missing Him - Sirius/Regulus, R

2009-10-13T18:15:42Z

Title: Missing Him
Author: elfflame
Characters: Sirius/Regulus
Rating: R
Warnings: incest
Kinks chosen: hyphephilia – arousal by touching fabrics or garments
Word Count: 1509
Summary: After Sirius runs away, his brother tries to deal with being left behind.
Author's notes: Written for my sweet Kit for her birthday, if a bit early. <3 Miss you, sweetie. Thank you to Ceria for the great beta job. :)

The house was far too quiet now that Sirius was gone. Regulus had hated the fights, the raised voices and slammed doors and threats. But he hated this even more. He hated that his mother did nothing but scowl at the hole where Sirius’s name had been and drink day in and day out. He hated that his father had shut himself away in his study. He hated that Sirius’s room was so empty, when once it had been the liveliest place in this house.

Most of all, though, he hated losing the hard-won closeness he’d finally managed to get back after five years of Sirius hating him for going into Slytherin. He hated being unable to crawl into Sirius’s bed at night and feel those welcoming arms around him.

He hated missing him.

It was what kept him sneaking into Sirius’s room in the middle of the night. He was surprised that his mother hadn’t thought to strip the room bare. But grateful at the same time. It meant that he had some small part of Sirius left. Even if only fragments.

Every night, he would wait until he heard his parents make their way up to their room, waiting impatiently for their last movements to still overhead. Once the house had gone quiet, Regulus would cautiously open his door and tiptoe across the hall to Sirius’s room, making sure both doors were closed behind him in case anyone came past.

These days, it was the only way he could calm himself enough to sleep. He would crawl into Sirius’s bed and bury his face in his pillow and breathe in the smell of wind and grass and musk that was uniquely Sirius. The scent was already beginning to fade, and Regulus wasn’t sure what he would do when it did. Go through his closet to find something he could wrap around himself while in his own bed, perhaps.

But for now, Regulus would curl up under his covers, face pressed to the pillow, almost feeling Sirius’s arms around him as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and pressed his hand to his cock.

They had only been together twice. Once at school, and once here at home. But Regulus had been dreaming of it for longer than he had even admitted to Sirius. Sirius had always loomed large in his life, and with women like their mother and their cousin Bellatrix as examples, and the way their father completely ignored them in favour of his own pursuits, Regulus couldn’t help but fixate on his brother.

It had taken some time to convince Sirius that he knew exactly what he wanted, and that it wasn’t just some Slytherin trick to get him in trouble. Even then, Sirius had stuck to snogging, driving Regulus near insane with need before saying he couldn’t and running off once more. It had taken a threat and an ambush to finally get what he wanted.

Regulus had played with others, but he’d never let them do more than fondle or kiss him. He knew it would be his best weapon against his brother if he were still innocent when they were together. And it worked, to a degree.

But it also made Sirius wary. He was afraid of hurting Regulus, and began to avoid Regulus now that he knew he was still innocent. It had taken the implication that Regulus might go to Severus for his first time to draw Sirius in again. Even then, though, he still seemed unable to take what Regulus offered. It had been maddening.

Finally, Regulus had decided to sneak after him in his nighttime wanderings until he could catch him alone and in a place where he could trap Sirius until he got just what he wanted. When he saw Sirius going into the Prefects Bath, he knew he’d found the perfect location. He carefully followed him inside, then hid behind a pillar until Sirius’s back was turned, and slipped into the still-filling tub, the splash of water hidden by the rush from the taps filling the tub.

When Sirius turned and saw him, his eyes went wide, then narrowed. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Taking a bath,” Regulus answered with a grin.

“That’s my bath, Regulus. Come back later.”

“It’s big enough. We could share. We used to when we were boys. Don’t you remember?”

Spots appeared on Sirius’s cheeks, and he looked to be struggling with himself. “‘Course I remember. But we’re not boys any more. It’s not appropriate.”

Regulus nearly snarled at that. “Fuck appropriate. But if you don’t want me, I can always find someone who does…” He began to climb out of the tub, then found himself tugged up and pulled against Sirius’s chest.

“I’m not letting any slimy Slytherin git touch my brother.”

Regulus met his brother’s stormy grey eyes. “I am a ‘Slytherin git,’ in case you’ve forgotten?”

“You haven’t let him touch you, have you?” he asked, his eyes narrowing even further.

“Depends what you mean,” Regulus said with a smirk. “We haven’t done it, if that’s what you mean… I do know he wouldn’t mind, though…”

Growling, Sirius pulled him into a deep kiss, and Regulus curled wet arms around his neck, pressing against him. When Sirius finally pulled back, Regulus was breathless. “So…? Are we doing this, or….should I go back to the dungeons and find someone more willing?”

Sirius’s eyes glinted, then pushed Regulus backward into the tub. Regulus surfaced with a splash, glowering up at him, then smirking when he saw his brother was undressing. “You mention him one more time,” Sirius said conversationally, “and whether or not you like the git, I’ll make sure he pays…”

Nude, he smirked down at his brother, and Regulus licked his lips. “I’m sure you will,” he said, his voice soft.

Sirius smirked, then slipped into the water and advanced on his brother. “Because you’re mine,” he growled, pulling Regulus close.

“Yes,” Regulus moaned, pressing against him. “Please.”

Sirius hadn’t been gentle. Regulus hadn’t wanted him to. He’d treasured the aches and bruises after, stroking them as he masturbated behind the curtains of his bed at night after. He’d been sad when they’d faded, but promised himself that this summer he would have Sirius every night. That the bruises would last all summer.

But the fights had started the moment they had returned home, and Sirius had kept sending him away. Maybe he had hoped to keep their mother from learning what they were up to. Maybe he had had second thoughts in the time since they had been together in the Prefects Bath. But either way, it was enough to drive Regulus mad. So close, and yet so very far away.

Then Sirius had sought him out that night. Regulus had heard the fights all day, and had thought if he could comfort Sirius, then he would do everything in his power to do so. If their first time had been rough and frenetic, this time was slow and sweet, enough to bring tears to Regulus’s eyes. That was when he had realized Sirius was going to leave.

“Take me with you,” he’d whispered after.

Sirius was quiet for a few moments, and Regulus wondered if he would answer at all. When he did, his voice was rough with emotion. “I can’t, Regulus. If I leave, she’ll be angry. But if I take you…”

They both knew she would never let Regulus go. He nodded, trying to suppress a sob. “I don’t want you to leave…”

Rolling to his back, Sirius sighed. “I don’t want to leave you here. But next summer…I should have a flat by then, and you can come stay. All summer, if you want.” He turned to look at Regulus. “I bet uncle Alphard would help us come up with a good excuse…” He smiled half-heartedly, but he couldn’t disguise how upset he was. Not from Regulus.

“I’m sure he will,” Regulus said softly. “And…school?”

Sirius turned fully onto his side. “We’ll have to be careful, Reg. Neither of us needs the kind of trouble this can bring…”

“I don’t care!”

Sirius pulled him into a kiss. “I know. But I do. I don’t want you hurt, Regulus.” He pulled back to meet Regulus’s eyes. “Promise me you’ll be careful, and stay safe?”

Regulus wanted to say no. That if Sirius could do stupid things, that so could he. But the look on Sirius’s face, so concerned, made him nod. “I promise.”

They held each other for a long time before Regulus fell asleep, despite his struggling against Morpheus’s pull. When he woke, Sirius was gone.

So all he has left is this. Curled in the scent of Sirius, touching himself until he comes, tears streaking his face. He knows it’s not forever. The promise of next summer is like a beacon. But that is so far away. And Sirius isn’t here to hold him. And sometimes, it feels as though he never will again.

Very long-delayed update

2009-10-10T21:29:02Z

So...I have been writing my little heart out. Finished off my Bottom!Draco Fairy Tale fest fic and sent it off with plenty of time to spare. Then I started on my Ownfic, and discovered I had a massive fic on my hands. Managed 10k, then got clobbered with the worst flu I've had since I was a kid. Managed to recover, but my fic got sent in about a week late because of it.

Now I just have to focus on getting ahead on things before the end of October so I can do NaNoWriMo. I don't think I'll manage. I have at least 4 fics to do in the next three weeks. Wish me luck!

To de-stress between bouts of writing, I've been playing with a pair of girls based on a pair wolfish_cat and I play with: Electra Black, daughter of Rabastan Lestrange and Regulus Black, and Diantha Lupin, daughter of Remus Lupin and Narcissa Lupin nee Malfoy nee Black.

They have three daughters, Althea, Pandora, and Katerina. Electra just became my first Sims 3 Sim to die of old age. Diantha's grown old, and their eldest daughter, Althea, is now a young adult, so I'm looking to marry her off. I've recently found a mod that allows Sims to have pointed ears, so I decided to make sims to marry her off to. I made two girls, and two guys, one of each with elf-ears. Now I just have to decide which to use.

So! Poll time! :D

Here's Althea:

Althea takes after her mum Diantha, with blonde hair and pale blue eyes.
Her traits are: Workaholic, Loves the outdoors, Clumsy, Green thumb, and Athletic
And her favorites: Food – Cookies, Music – Latin, Colour – Turquoise

And then we have our candidates:
Lyra Maxwell

Red-head elf with purple eyes
Old-fashioned outfit with a modern look
Wants to be a professional author
Traits: Bookworm, Artistic, Schmoozer, Ambitious, Computer Whiz
Favorites: Food – Ratatouille, Music – Classical, Colour – Green

Martienne Prost

Brunette human with green eyes
Girly look, slightly old-fashioned
Wants to go into science
Traits: Great kisser, Excitable, Hopeless romantic, Lucky, Computer whiz
Favorites: Music – Indie, Food – Cheesesteak, Colour – Brown

Toren Lebraun

Blond-brown haired human with blue eyes
Modern casual look
Wants to go into Politics
Traits: Workaholic, Vegitarian, Schmoozer, Ambitious, Computer whiz
Favourites: Food – Goopy carbonara, Music – Pop, Colour – Blue

Roland Reynard

Medium-skinned, Black-haired elf with blue eyes
Slightly old-fashioned look
Wants to become an Author
Traits: Flirty, Great kisser, Bookworm, Genius, Ambitious
Favorites: Food – Sushi, Music – Classical, Colour – Purple

View Poll: #4436

For my own future reference

2009-10-05T02:21:39Z

And because I think it's important.

cluegirl posted an entry here on how to react to someone you know telling you they were raped. Incredibly thought out, and from not only a survivor, but someone who's going through a special program to help victims deal with this sort of assult.

I've only had to react to this sort of thing twice in my life, which I suppose makes me very lucky, but I'm fairly sure I sucked at it then.

Crying in the Rain - Draco - G

2009-09-28T21:08:38Z

Title: Crying in the Rain
Author: elfflame
Rating: G
Challenge: prompt #60: Rain for draco100
Word Count: 100
Summary: Draco finds that Rain has it uses.
A/N: Just taking a quick break from my mad fest-writing spree. Couldn’t resist. Sorry for the sad tone…

Draco had always thought the suggestion rain was God’s way of mourning someone was overly sentimental.

But the day his mother was placed in the family crypt, the skies opened up in a great thunderstorm that echoed the pain in his heart. Long after the others had apparated away, Draco stood, his eyes closed, tears and rain mingled on his face, his face turned into the fury of the storm.

He cried until there was nothing left to cry, then let the rain wash his face clean before apparating home to face life once more—this time without his mother.

Sunday Rec Day!

2009-09-27T17:03:00Z

Again, with no non-adult recs to show for it. But 4 adult recs (3 HP, 1 Merlin) will follow.

Hope everyone's having a lovely weekend. And if you're not... *hugs tight*

Merlin Fanworks IJ fest!

2009-09-26T19:10:19Z

Prompt-collection for the IJ merlin_fanworks fest will end Wednesday night at Midnight Pacific time. If you have not yet posted any requests, but would like to do so, you have a few more days, but do it soon!

Reasons I love Merlin

2009-09-20T01:01:01Z

Bradley James
Bradley James's smile
Bradley James's laugh
Colin Morgan
Colin Morgan's eyes
Colin Morgan's cheekbones
King Giles
Tony Head
The Slash Dragon
Merlin's mother ships Arthur/Merlin
Arthur/Merlin
Prince Prat
"I can take you apart with less than that."
"I'm happy to serve you until the day I die."
Girls who use swords!
Wandless magic
Lancelot knows
Labyrinth
OT4 (5?)

Mmm...all I can come up with at the moment. But surely enough for now?