Summer 8:   Part C

 

Harry winced as his uncle’s spit flew into his face.

“I will not tolerate having another of your kind in this house!   Contact one of your people and get him out of here.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes.  “I’ve told you before, Uncle Vernon, I can’t very well contact anyone with Hedwig gone.”

“Don’t give me your cheek, boy.”

“I’m not giving you cheek, I’m bloody well giving you the facts!  No Hedwig, no contact.”

The side of his face exploded in pain and Harry stumbled back with the force.  His eyes watered as he pressed his hand to his enflamed cheek.  Bloody hell, at this rate he was going to be all bruises by the time they came to get him.  “Do not talk back to me!”

With a deep breath, Harry managed to rein in his temper.  “Yes, Uncle Vernon.”

“Get back up those stairs and I do not expect to see you for the rest of the day.”

Before he could bite his tongue, the words, “You won’t have to worry about that, Uncle,” slipped out.   Dodging another blow, Harry ran up the stairs and slammed the door shut behind him, momentarily forgetting that he was trying not to wake up Draco, who was still sleeping soundly, sprawled out on the small bed with one leg falling off the side.

It was strange to have Draco here.  For that matter, it was strange for Harry to be here.  The Dursley’s were worse in some ways and better in others.   They still hated him, they still barely fed him, his uncle had gotten more violent, but Harry supposed that was because no one had come to stop it; on the other hand, Dudley and his aunt seemed perfectly happy to ignore his very existence, he didn’t have to dodge flying skillets and he didn’t have to play Harry Hunting with his cousin.

Draco stirred on the bed, pulling his leg up and mumbling to himself in his sleep.  The sun filtered through the little curtain over the window and bathed Draco in faint light.  With his blonde hair and pale skin, he looked kind of like an angel.

Draco’s eyes opened slowly and he looked dazedly at Harry, his nose scrunched up.  “Harry?”   He sat half up, groaning, “What happened to your face?”

A very nosey angel.

Harry pretended he hadn’t heard the question.  “How are you feeling?”

Draco moved his head around experimentally and pushed himself up.   “Well, I can think with both halves of my brain and I believe I may have proper control over all my limbs.  Overall, I’d say that’s an improvement.”

With a chuckle, Harry sat next to him on the bed.  “Good.  Look, I need to ask a few questions.  Do you remember how you got here last night?”

“I really don’t remember anything.  Voldemort tortured me, father took me home and after that… after that it’s a blank until I woke up last night.  Actually, last night isn’t all that clear either.”  Draco leaned forward, reaching a hand out to touch Harry’s cheek, pulling away when Harry flinch.  “What did you say happened to your face?”

Harry stood back up and stepped away from the bed tensely.  “Nothing.  Look, are you hungry?   I can’t guarantee anything, but maybe I could sneak something…”

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“No.”  Harry frowned, “Well, yes, but there really isn’t anything you can do anyway, so drop it.”

Draco narrowed his eyes speculatively.  Harry knew what it looked like, he knew everything was obvious by the shape and newness of the bright red mark marring his cheek and by his own shifting, nervous posture.  “Did someone hit you?”

“No.”  Looking around, Harry sighed, “Yes, but like I said, there isn’t anything you can do, so leave it alone.”

“Why don’t you just…”

“I said leave it!”

Draco scowled, but the expression quickly turned to one of concern.  “I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s just that there are people watching over you, aren’t there?  They wouldn’t have sent you back here without providing some kind of protection.” Harry felt immediately guilty for his outburst.  Sure it wasn’t the first time he’d yelled at Draco, but usually the blonde prat had done something to deserve it.

Harry moved his hand over his face, carefully arranging his annoyed features into a much softer expression.  He knew Draco was only trying to help him and losing his temper wasn’t going to do any good.  It was just that the thought of Dumbledore made him shake with anger - anger at Dumbledore for putting him in this situation, but also anger at himself for being angry with Dumbledore in the first place.  The Headmaster would never have put Harry back here if he could have helped it, he loved Harry – had loved Harry.  It just wasn’t fair, but then none of it had ever been fair.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to yell at you.  Look, in less than three weeks the Order is going to come get me and take me to the Weasley’s and I’ll never have to come back here again.”  Harry felt the irony of that statement weigh heavily on him.  Hadn’t Draco said the same thing to him at some point when they’d talked about Lucius’s canings?

Draco apparently thought the same thing, because he gave a resigned sigh and melted against the bed.  “What do we do until then?”

Harry visibly relaxed, “Dodge Uncle Vernon and hope they give us enough to eat.”

The sound of a door closing downstairs caught Harry’s attention and he looked out his window, watching Uncle Vernon get into his car with Dudley.   He looked back with a devilish smile, “You hungry?”

Five minutes later Harry came back up the stairs with two sandwiches and two large glasses of water.  Draco took one and looked at it dubiously.  “What is it?”

“Ham.”

“No cheese?”

“Dudley likes cheese, he doesn’t like ham, just be glad she let us use the bread.”

Draco bit into it and chewed the dry meal with distaste, but he couldn’t deny the sounds his stomach was making.  Harry smiled at him.  “After the Tournament, when I took that potion like you did, I didn’t realize how hungry I was until after I started to eat.”  Harry passed half of his sandwich to Draco.   "Go ahead."

“Aren’t you hungry, too?”

Harry shrugged, “Not as hungry as you, I’d wager.   Besides, I’m used to it.”

Reluctantly, Draco took the other half a sandwich.  They ate silently while Harry tried to remember everything Madame Pomfrey had always said about people recovering from illnesses.

“You look pale, come sit near the window, the fresh air will do you good.”

“Fresh air.”

Draco stopped mid-bite and stared at Harry’s sudden outburst.   “Excuse me?”

“Fresh air.  Madame Pomfrey is always going on about fresh air being good for you.  Finish that and I’ll help you downstairs.”

“What about your uncle?”

“Dudley was going on about Uncle Vernon taking him to a movie this afternoon.  I think they’ll be gone all day and Aunt Petunia won’t mind us.  She probably won’t even acknowledge us.”

“Lovely family you have here.”

Harry smiled ruefully, “Not even Snape was this bad and that’s saying something.”

Swallowing the last of his sandwich, Draco pushed himself to his feet, shaking Harry off when he rushed forward to help.  “I’m fine, I can walk on my own.”

Harry shook his head, taking Draco’s arm forcefully.  “I couldn’t walk straight for nearly two days and I’m guessing I wasn’t put through even half of what you were.”  He looked at Draco sideways, “The only one who’ll see us is my aunt and if it really means that much to you, we’ll tell her it’s about sex.”

Draco laughed, and instantly doubled slightly, holding his cramping side.  “How long did you say it took you to recover?”

“About three days in the infirmary with Pomfrey fussing over me every minute.”

“How long do you think it’ll take me?”

“At least four, maybe five days, with me fussing over you every minute.”

It was hard to read the odd look that passed over Draco’s face, but if Harry had to put a name to it, he would have said it was curious.

 

_______________

 

Draco recovered remarkably quickly, although he did insist on staying in bed, letting Harry wait on him hand and foot.  As much as Harry wanted to complain, however, he was glad to have someone else there.  The only problem with it being Draco was that while there was a great many things Draco and he could do together, very few of them were things Harry would have wanted his relatives walking in on.

Unfortunately, Draco did not share Harry’s reservations about privacy, or the fact that Uncle Vernon had removed the inside locks on the door, claiming that the two of them could be up to all sorts of funny witchcraft in the room.  All Draco cared about was snogging.  Well, to be fair, he cared about groping, as well.  So, Harry spent a great deal of time either dodging his Uncle’s blows or defending what little honor he had.

“Draco, not right now, they’re…”

“Entertaining, I know.  We’ll be quiet.”

Harry tried to push Draco off him unsuccessfully.  “You’re never quiet!”

Draco pulled back for a moment and look at Harry questioningly for a moment before shrugging.  “I suppose not, so you’d best shut me up.”

Before Harry could protest further, Draco was kissing him again, demanding entrance to his mouth with his tongue.  As much as Harry wanted to complain, he rather liked Draco’s tongue, so he gave in and let the other boy continue to snog him silly.  He wasn’t really sure why he bothered fending Draco off in the first place; he loved Draco, as much as it pained him to admit it sometimes, but something…

“Spread your legs for me.”

With a mumble of agreement, Harry complied and moaned as Draco settled against him like a puzzle, pressing their cock’s together.  It was the ordering around that really got to him.  Maybe it was that he’d been all but kicked out of his home and left for dead on Harry’s doorstep, but Draco had become very forceful in what he wanted.

The only problem was that Harry couldn’t bring himself to complain, because in the end, he didn’t so much mind being ordered around as long as it led to this.  “Draco.”

Draco pulled back, one of his hands in Harry’s head, the other still enthusiastically exploring his hip and abdomen.  “What?”

“I want to fuck you.”

His hand stopped altogether,  “Excuse me?”

Harry delved his hand into the back of Draco’s trousers, squeezing his arse suggestively.  “I want to bury my cock in your arse while my Uncle tells horrible jokes about Japanese golfers.  I want to make you scream so loud the Wittington’s think someone’s being sacrificed up here.  I want…”

“I thought you wanted to keep this quiet.”

“Bugger quiet, I want you.”

Draco chuckled and nipped the side of Harry’s neck.  “Now, now, Harry love, I told you we were going to be quiet and I’m afraid I have to keep my promises.”  He sank his teeth into Harry’s skin and Harry had to bite his lip as Draco’s pressed his hips down, rubbing his erection against Harry’s.

“Don’t spoil your lip.”

Harry almost managed to chuckle, but Draco chose that moment to thrust forward, undulating his hips and he ending up moaning loudly instead.  Draco pulled away from his neck, licking the sensitive skin and then sucking on it, drawing the blood up to the surface in pale flecks.

Even though the bump and grind reminded Harry of when they’d first begun to fool around, he found himself excited by it.  There was a deliberation about Draco’s movements that had never been there.  Where Draco had always taken sex with desperate urgency before, now he seemed confidence, sure of himself.   Harry wasn’t sure what had brought on the change, but he wasn’t going to start complaining.

His orgasm washed over him and when he cried out, just a little, Draco bit down on his neck again, pulling more and louder noises from Harry’s throat.  With a few controlled grunts, Draco came as well and collapsed on top of Harry.

They lay there for several moments, panting.  Harry stared at the top of Draco’s blonde hair and suddenly found the need to tell him how grateful he was that Draco was there, even if it might possibly be a trap that Draco was unwittingly setting.  He had just opened his mouth to say all this, when the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs jarred him from his revelry.  “Draco, get off.”

“Already did.”  Followed by a derisive little chuckle that meant Draco thought he was being particularly clever.

“No, you great prat, get off of me.”

He'd just managed to shove Draco off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thump and a disgruntled start, when the door to his bedroom flew open.   “What the bloody hell is going on up here?”

Harry could feel his face going bright pink.  “Nothing, Uncle Vernon.  We were just… doing homework.”

Draco huffed from the floor and stood up, wiping off his backside.   “As if it’s any of your business what we’re doing.”  Draco still hadn’t looked up and so he missed Vernon Dursley’s face beginning to turn that dangerous shade of puce.  “I’ll tell you what we were doing.  We were sacrificing virgin squirrels to the Heathen gods of Warfare.  Of course, now that you’ve interrupted us we’ll have to start all over again. …what?”

He’d looked up and finally seen what Harry had been watching with growing dread.  Uncle Vernon’s face was pinched tight and his pallor was very close to purple.  Harry thought he might actually have a heart attack if he didn’t calm himself soon, which would have been something of a relief if he thought about it.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest defiantly and Harry stood up, standing in front of him in case Vernon decided to attack.  After a minute, Draco relented.  “We weren’t doing anything, Mr. Dursley, just homework.”

With a wagging finger, Vernon backed out of the room.  “For all I know, sacrifices is just the kind of homework you get from that freaky little school of yours and I’ll have none of it in my house.”

Harry took a deep, calming breath, “Yes, Uncle Vernon.”

“And if I hear one more noise, you’ll have no more meals for the rest of the week.”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon.”

Vernon looked at Draco who sighed, but dropped his arms.  “Yes, Mr. Dursley,” although not in any particularly respectful manner.  Vernon closed the door and locked it, then apparently thought better of it and reopened the door, glaring at the boys before storming off. 

Harry sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Draco scathingly.   “You know how I want to live through this summer, Draco?  Well, you might want to consider that before you mouth off to my uncle again.”

Before Draco could protest, Harry grabbed a torn and tattered book from an abandoned corner of the room and laid down on the bed.  “Oh, and you can forget about sex for the next two weeks.”

“What?!”

Harry refused to look up from his book.  “You’re the one who mentioned virgin sacrifices.  I know the Dursley’s, they won’t be giving us anymore privacy.  We’ll be lucky if they let us shut the door to use the privy.”

Draco’s mouth worked, but couldn’t seem to get anything out for several minutes.  “But, I… How do you know?  You haven’t lived them since you were eight-years-old.  People change with time…”

“Yes, and with the Dursleys that means they get worse.”   Harry looked over the edge of his book, his face determinedly blank.  “When I was six, my aunt came in and saw me washing myself… down there.  She decided it was inappropriate and for the next few months I wasn’t permitted to take a wiz without her standing outside the door, making sure I wasn’t doing any extra touching.  So, I hope you enjoyed that, because it’s the last we’re getting for a while.”

“But…”

With a rye grin, Harry shrugged.  “If it’s any consolation, I enjoyed it.”

 

__________________

 

 

This was really degrading, not to mention Harry wasn’t sure how much long Draco was going to be willing to put up with it.  “Potter, what is taking so long?”

Harry put a finger to his lips and continued to look out the door of the little tool shed anxiously.  “There.”  Harry turned to face him, smiling impishly.   “They’ve sat down to watch the tellie and they’ll be busy for hours.”

“Even that nosey aunt of yours?”

With a nod, Harry leaned against Draco and kissed him deeply.   “It’s some program that spreads rumors about famous people.  Aunt Petunia loves rumors.”

Draco kissed back, slipping his hand under Harry’s shirt and splaying his fingers over the warm, bare skin underneath.  “Do you think she’s figured anything out?  About us, I mean.”

Harry ran his tongue over Draco’s lips, “She can’t have.”  He put his hand over Draco’s and usd it to move the hand inside the back of his trousers.  “We haven’t done anything.  Two bloody weeks of having you in the same room and I haven’t been able to so much as touch you.  It’s driving me mad.”

As if to prove his point, Harry drove his hips into Draco’s.  Draco moaned into Harry’s mouth as the erection pressed against his own.  “What’s driving you mad is that you’re a pervy, teenage boy who hasn’t had sex in weeks.  Besides, it’s all you’re fault, I’ve got nothing to do with it.”

“Have to.  Now shut up and snog me.”

Being the gentleman that he was, Draco could hardly refuse the request.  He sank his hand further into the back of Harry’s trousers, squeezing his arse cheeks, while his other hand gripped Harry’s neck possessively.

The past few weeks had been absolute torture.  Vernon still demanded that Draco be sent away at least once a day and Harry had to continue reminding him that it was his own fault that couldn’t be managed.  The only thing that had changed was that Harry had become very good at dodging the blows.  Currently, he only had one faded bruise on his cheek and his split lip was almost entirely healed.  In fact, unless one were to look closely, it almost appeared as if it had just been bitten very vigorously in one spot.

Harry’s hands, which had been very busy working Draco’s hair into an undignified mess, moved their efforts south, tugging at the button of Draco’s trousers.  Harry felt Draco’s legs shake as Harry’s hand wrapped around his neglected cock.

“’M gonna cum, Harry.”

Harry chuckled in his ear and bit his lobe lightly.  “Go ahead then, and I’ll get on my knees and make you hard again.”

He pulled Harry back into a kiss, his body tensing as he came to edge of orgasm and…

“Harry, are you in here?”

Harry pulled away so fast that Draco, who still had his hand firmly entrenched in the back of Harry’s trousers, fell forward onto his knees.  He half choked on a desperate sob and Harry felt a slight twinge of sympathy.  He had to have been so bloody close.  Looking up, Harry opened his mouth to somehow explain this to the horse faced bint, except it wasn’t Harry’s Aunt standing in the door, it was a young woman with bright purple hair and a mousy face, wearing bright blue robes and faded jeans.

“Oh, god, Tonks!”

Draco looked at Harry, who was staring, open mouthed in shock at the woman, who was staring right back.  There really was no question as to what they had been doing, not when Harry’s trousers were pulled low on his hips, his shirt was untucked and wrinkled, his lips were swollen and red, and his hair was even more disorderly than usual.

Draco stood up, fully aware that he was probably in worse shape than Harry as he zipped up his trousers.  “Tonks?  As in the one who’s sha…”

Harry looked at Draco sharply, cutting him off.  “Draco, this is Tonks.  Tonks, Draco.”

Her shocked silence was wiped away by a sneer, “Malfoy.   What the bloody hell is he doing here?  We brought you here to keep you safe, Harry.”

Before Harry could say anything, Draco stepped forward, grabbing the inside handle of the door.  “He is safe and I’m getting laid, for the first time in weeks, I might add.  We’ll continue this conversation later.”

He made to close the door, but Harry stuck his foot in the way.   “Draco, stop it.”

Groaning in frustration, Draco let go of the door and followed Harry out of the shed.  The Dursley’s were all peering out the window and by the way his Aunt and Uncle’s faces were flushed with anger, Harry gathered that they’d figured out what was going on in their tool shed.  Thank Merlin he never had to come back here again.   At least, he hoped.

“Tonks, please tell me you’ve come to get me and that you are taking me far, far away from here.”

She stopped eyeing Draco suspiciously and looked at Harry.   “Of course, I have.  Harry, what happened to your face?”

He backed away quickly as she reached up to touch him, quickly changing the subject.  “Not to say I’m not grateful, but what are you doing here, anyway?” He spared another glance at his family in the window.  “I wasn’t expecting you for another two days.”

Tonks raised one eyebrow and smirked.   “I noticed.  The wedding is the day after your birthday and since we’ve finished with all the security measures, we thought you might like to come a little early.”

Draco coughed, “He does,” into his hand and Harry looked mortified.

He was just about to turn to yell at Malfoy when another familiar voice rang out over the small backyard.  “Tonks, did you find him?”

She looked over her shoulder at Kingsley Shaklebolt, who had just stepped out the back door.  “Yes!”

He stopped when he saw Draco, “What’s he doing here?”

Tonks waved her hands, as if to say she had no idea and looked back at them expectantly, crossing her arms over her chest.  Harry looked from her to Kingsley, finally understanding exactly what a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ must feel like.  “I’ll just go inside and get my stuff, then.”

Before anyone could say otherwise, Harry had darted past both Tonks and Kingsley and inside the house, safe from further interrogation at the moment.   “Boy, what the bloody hell were you doing in my tool shed?”

Okay, Harry revised, safe from interrogation from Tonks by Kingsley.  “Nothing, Uncle Vernon.”  He tried to move past Vernon, but the large man stepped in front of him and stopped his escape.  “I have to go upstairs and get my stuff.”

He dodged left, but instead of trying to block his path, his uncle grabbed his arm, holding it tightly when Harry tried to wrench it away.  “You’re not going anywhere until you explain to me what you and that poncy little blonde were doing in my tool shed.”

“I already told you, nothing, Uncle Vernon.”

“The same nothing that’s been going on under my very roof for the past two weeks?”  His eyes narrowed,   “Is that what the two of you were doing in your room while I was having my dinner party?”

Harry felt the blood drain from his face.  “N… no.  Of course not, we were doing homework, or…”

“Or nothing,” Vernon’s grip tightened.

“Who cares what I was doing in my room during your stupid dinner party?  You’ve wanted me out of your house since the moment I stepped into it, well now’s your chance!   They’re here to take me away and I’ll never disgrace your doorstep again, just let me go get my stuff and I’ll be on my way.”

Vernon clenched his fist and raised his arm, his face twisted in anger.  Harry had only one thought.  Not with Tonks and Kingsley here, please, not with them watching. He felt his chest tightened and for a split second, everything went white.   The next moment his arm was hanging limply at his side and his uncle was no long standing in front of him.

He looked around and a strange noise drew his gaze down.   Glaring up at him with small, beady black eyes was a large… pig.  A boar really, black and white with an ugly pink nose and there was no mistaking that it was his uncle, none at all.  Well, Vernon Dursley to giant boar really wasn’t much of a change.

“Oh, god, I am so sorry.”

He hadn’t had a burst of wild magic in years, not since he’d first come to Hogwarts and Dumbledore had said he truly wished that Professor Snape would wear more color.  Harry had wanted to please him so badly that the next thing he knew Snape’s robes were pink.  After that Dumbledore had taken great care to teach Harry how to control his emotions and he’d done such a good job of it.  He hadn’t had a single slip, he’d always managed to get himself under control before it got that far.  Well, until now…

His uncle snorted at him and his knelt down, “I… I’m sorry, I’ll fix it.  I just need to get my wand…”   Apparently that had been wrong thing to say, because Uncle Vernon threw up his head, hitting Harry in the chin and knocking the boy onto his arse as he charge past him and out the back door.  Oh god.  He’d turned his uncle into a boar and now he was in the back yard.  He heard some shouting and then the fence crash open.  Oh, god.

Harry looked up and saw Draco run in, followed by Kingsley and Tonks.  He stared up, wide eyed and unable to form a thought.  Kingsley pushed past Draco and knelt down in front of Harry.  “Are you okay?”

Slowly, Harry nodded.  “I didn’t mean to.  He was yelling at me and he…” Harry stopped himself and cast a significant glance at Draco.   “The next thing I knew he was a boar and then he ran out.  I’m going to be in so much trouble for this.”

Tonks chuckled and came forward, rubbing her hand through Harry’s messy hair.  “I doubt it.   The Ministry has much more to worry about right now than underage magic.  You go and get your stuff together; me and Kingsley will hunt down your darling uncle.”  She started to turn around and then stopped, giving Draco a warning look.  “Anything happens to him while we’re gone and I’ll do things to you that make the Cruciatus Curse look kind.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile, especially when Draco took a step back from her as she went past him and out the front door.  Standing up, Harry looked at his lover.  Draco’s face was pale and he was staring at the open door with apprehension.  “Draco, she didn’t mean it.”

Draco looked over, “I knew that.”  When Harry looked skeptical, Draco squared his shoulders.  “Besides, I can defend myself.”

Harry nodded, “Sure, Draco.  Come on, give me a hand upstairs.”

“A hand?!”  Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste.  “I most certainly will not ‘give you a hand.’  I am a Malfoy.   Malfoys do not give people hands, they…”

Harry turned around, all traces of humor gone.  “Then stay downstairs for all I care.”  Storming up, Harry slammed his door shut and began throwing the few items that he had been allowed to keep into a pile in the middle of his room.

What was wrong with Draco?  He hadn’t pulled that Malfoy trash in years.  Besides, he’d helped Harry plenty of times.  Sure, he’d complained about it a lot and well, more often than not, he hadn’t really helped so much as watched Harry do all the work, smirking and making snide remarks.  Stopped in mid throw, Harry looked at the closed door and sighed.  Never mind, there wasn’t anything wrong with Draco, maybe the problem was Harry himself.

Throwing the sweater down, Harry took one last look around the room and banished the pile to his trunk in the cupboard.  It probably was him.  He was upset about Dumbledore and Snape, and he’d been grouchy about it all summer.  Every time he slept, he saw Dumbledore die and he wondered over and over what he could have done to make it turn out different.  Worse yet, was that he didn’t really think there was anything.

He sniffed and felt his eyes watering.  He was not going to cry.  He needed a distraction. Draco’s voice filtered up the stairs and through his open door,   “Harry, what’s taking so long?”

Draco, he needed Draco.  Storming down the stairs, he threw a stunned Draco against the wall and kissed him ferociously, shoving his tongue down Draco’s throat before the blond could protest.  The tightness of his chest receded and he deepened the kiss, pressed his body flush against Draco’s and wishing he could get closer.

Cough.  “Well, this is really awkward.  For a second time.”

Harry pulled back, wiping his mouth and grinning sheepishly at Tonks, who was standing in the doorway, blushing brightly.  With a shrug, he went to the cupboard, opened then door and heaved out his trunk.  “I’m ready.”

Kingsley came in and stopped, blinking at them in confusion - Harry, standing next to his trunk, looking guilty; Draco, leaning against the wall, flattening his hair and clothes; Tonks looking anywhere but the two boys in the room.  “Did I miss something again?”

When no one answered, he gave an annoyed shake of his head and flicked his wand at Harry’s trunk, sending it ahead of them.  “Okay, well, if no one wants to tell me anything, then I suppose we should go ahead and leave.”

Draco fell in step behind Harry, as he followed Tonks and Kingsley out the door.  The walked down the path and onto the sidewalk.  There were several other Auror’s waiting at the end of the street and Harry looked at Draco, who had shoved his hands in his trousers nervously.

He hadn’t really thought about it before, but perhaps this was harder for Draco than he thought.  He was walking into territory where everyone assumed he was the enemy and that couldn’t be easy.  Falling back, he slipped his arm into Draco’s.  “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

“I know.”  Draco looked at him, a funny sort of smile on his face and Harry felt himself falter.  Draco had never smiled at him like that.  Before Harry could say anything, Draco took his arm away from Harry and cupped his face.  His eyes were different.  How could he not have noticed it before?  Draco’s eyes were still grey, they were still pale and stormy, but they were also more confident than they had ever been before as they stared at Harry.

The hand on his face moved to the back of his head and tightened.  “Everything’s going to be just fine.”  Draco other hand grabbed Harry’s and something hard and cold pressed into his palm.  He felt a familiar, sickening tug at his navel and the world melted around him, everything except those cold, calculating eyes.

 

-tbc-