Gay Aurors

"Bad, bad, bad. This is so bad," Draco mumbled. His fingers were at his temples, massaging slowly. Each movement caused the wicker basket cage he was in to creak and move.

Next to him, Harry was sitting cross-legged in a suspended basket of his own. It crackled with restrictive magic to keep them from casting any wandless magic or doing anything to affect their release. Not that they'd get far considering they were inside the Japanese Ministry of Magic. At least it kept them quiet.

Below them, the ninjas worked in little cubes made up of ceiling-less Shoji screens-- a hybridized version of the Auror pens in glossy teak and red. The ninjas moved from office to office, trading their reports written on Washi paper and doing very little talking.

"So very bad," said Draco again.

Harry sighed and said, "What's going on, Draco, what are they doing down there?"

"It's not origami," said Draco flatly. He looked up at Harry, looking tormented. "Although I guess this is not as bad as it could've been. If the Yojimbo had gotten us, at least we could've fought our way out or died trying. This... we're just sitting ducks until they decide to turn us over to the Yojimbo anyway."

"What?" Harry looked up at the fathomless expanse of space above them. They were held up here by magic. There would be no swinging closer to Draco to comfort him, or hear him any better. "We're in the Ministry of Magic, Draco. They're not going to just hand us over to some hoodlums."

"Hoodlums? What are you, eighty?" he asked, furrowing his brows. Draco shook his head, looking like he almost envied Harry's naïveté. "Anyway, yeah. They would hand us over. This isn't England. It's called a Ministry here, but it has about as much to do with the way the English Ministry works as poached salmon has to do with salmon sashimi."

Harry thought on that a moment. "It's uncooked here?"

Draco shot him the sort of glare that told him that wasn't the right answer at all.

"Anyway," Draco started, heaving a weighty sigh, "They probably will send you back to England, because you haven't actually done anything. Besides, you're Harry Potter and people care about what happens to you."

"Draco..." Harry started, and then he stopped. He'd wanted to protest that it was untrue and unfair, but he knew that for much of the English Wizarding community, it wasn't. Draco was fun to read about in the scandal section, but he didn't think too many would truly mourn his passing-- especially if it was couched that he was involved in trouble in Japan. "I care about what happens to you. I'll make them care. If we... you know... get separated."

Draco gave a despondent nod and looked down at the desk below them with the box that contained their wands. He stretched his hand out again, closing his eyes and concentrating. It moved a couple of inches before the ward around the wicker ball closed in around the magic in an amber glow and zapped Draco like a Muggle bug zapper.

He hissed and shook out his hand. A few of the ninjas below looked up and glared at him and then returned to their work. Draco returned to his posture of rubbing his temples and talking to himself.

"So... ninjas are actually wizards?" asked Harry, as if conversation would help.

"Yes," said Draco. "Why do you think they're so cool? And by cool, I mean totally sweet."

Harry's eyes widened and he looked at Draco as if he had suddenly sprouted eight snake heads. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Ninjas have the real ultimate power. They can kill anyone they want," said Draco, rhapsodizing. "They chop off heads all of the time!"

"Somehow, I doubt that," said Harry. He needed to do something, and fast, because clearly Draco was losing his mind. Maybe it was too much stress or not enough sleep. Or maybe Harry finally really had fucked him silly.

"If you don't believe ninjas have the real ultimate power, they'll chop your head off, too," said Draco. "Sometimes they flip out and stab, but usually they just fly around."

"Are you sure you're thinking of ninjas, Malfoy?" If this kept up, Harry was going to start rubbing his own temples. Maybe the spell around the wicker was pushing him into some sort of meltdown.

"This one time, a ninja was in a restaurant and a guy burped and the ninja killed the whole town!" Draco insisted.

"Oookay..." said Harry as he looked down at the ninjas below them. He wasn't sure, because of the face mask and all, but he thought one was smiling. He thought about asking for one of them for help for Draco when he saw a group of well-dressed businessmen enter the room from the opposite side.

"Sometimes when I think about how cool they are, I want to crap my-- shit," said Draco as he caught sight of the men.

"Crap and shit are sort of the same thing," said Harry blandly.

"Yakuza," said Draco.

There were so many things Harry wanted to say to Draco. Things far too private to say hanging over ninjas-- that Draco evidently had some sort of frightening crush on-- in the middle of the Japanese Ministry of Magic. He wanted to swear that he'd find him, that he'd rescue him, but he wasn't sure if he even could. Kirley Duke's attack had just been a message and it was incredibly brutal. They'd probably just kill Draco.

"The thing is, Harry, I came here with nothing. I don't think Snape intended for me to hook up with these people. Or maybe he did and didn't know what they were getting into, or what he was getting me into," Draco said, gazing over at him adoringly. "They trained me, but ultimately, they kept me out of the loop. It was easy for them to do, because I didn't want to know. I just wanted to have somewhere that I was safe. Obviously, I wasn't safe with them, but the time with you... waking up to you the other morning... it was the first time I've felt safe since I was a child. Thank you for that. And before we... before I'm..."

Draco looked down at the approaching Yakuza looking at him. Their wands were already drawn. Harry's heart raced at what Draco was about to say, even as it broke knowing that these were likely to be their final moments together and he couldn't even touch him. Tears sprung to his eyes as he watched Draco looking down at them sadly.

"Harry, I just wanted you to know that I--"

Boom!

The room shook and the ninjas crawled out of the woodwork. Suddenly, there were hundreds of them stealing out of the shadows, all gathering to glare at a side wall.

Boom!

"That you what?" asked Harry, leaning so close to the edge of the basket that his nose got a little shock from the containment field.

"That I..." Draco started, looking bewildered, flustered and scared.

Boom!

The baskets detached from the ceiling and floated down like bubbles. Harry was so desperate to know what Draco was going to say that he barely noticed they were moving until Draco's hand shot through the frame of the basket to grab the box with their wands. Whatever magical energy he'd used to break through that bond evidently wiped him out and he crumpled inside of the ball.

Boom!

Even as the Earth was shattering and breaking around them, Harry trained his eyes on Draco, pleased that there was still a steady rise and fall of his chest. Harry walked his wicker ball like a hamster in a cage to get closer to him, not only because he wanted to be nearer, but he'd hoped he could maybe get a wand, not that it would likely do him much good, but one never knew.

Boom! Crash!

The huge room was suddenly filled with light and Harry heard, "ARR AVAST! WE BE HERE FOR YER BOOTY!"

That was enough to make Harry whirl around in his cage to see the bow of a giant glowing pirate ship had broken through the Japanese painted mural of a cherry blossom tree and Orochi on it. Poor Orochi.

Immediately there were pirates on ninjas and ninjas on pirates, fighting the epic battle of sword versus katana, stealth versus bravado. Rum got everywhere. As did parrot droppings. The Yakuza, who had no part in the ages old rivalry, made their way to the two in the cages.

Just before they reached them, the captain of the pirate ship who was wearing a garishly pink and lilac frock coat and a three-cornered hat with far too many feathers in flicked his wand and the cages rose from the floor to the boat.

As they drifted closer and closer to the boat, Harry could see the pirate captain better, but he was still so backlit that it was hard to make out his features. He had an incredibly brilliant mane of gold that lay luxuriantly over his shoulders. His voice had sounded dangerously familiar, but it wasn't until he was right up on him that he figured it out.

"Harry Potter, is that you? What are you doing consorting with ninjas?" asked the Dread Pirate Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Um. I wasn't consorting exactly," said Harry, his body and face frozen still as he tried to bend his mind around this one.

"Well, never mind all of that. You'll make a brilliant ransom. I knew they were keeping something good," said Gilderoy. He plucked a bell from his breast pocket and rang it a few times and what was left of his crew returned to the deck and the magical flying pirate ship backed out of the Japanese Ministry of Magic, which was located inside of the supposedly active volcanoes of Japan, and shot straight up through the atmosphere.

"Oh look and you brought Mr Malfoy as well. How exciting!" said Captain Lockhart. He summoned the box of wands from Draco's hand. "Can't have you with these! But do come by later, Harry Potter. We simply must catch up!"

***

Whatever had happened with that magical ball had certainly zapped Draco down and hard. The pirates had the balls disarmed and off of them in seconds, only to shove them together into a cage in the hull. At least this time Harry could identify the runic markings around the cage so he knew what sort of magic was keeping him restrained. He wondered if it was as impervious to wandless magic as the baskets had been. After all, the ninja wizards were forewarned about Draco's abilities. These pirates would have no idea.

Not that it mattered since Draco was still breathing deeply in what seemed like sleep. Harry wished he had his wand so he could do a quick field scan of Draco's body, but there seemed little chance of that.

The pirates on the ship seemed to mostly be wizards with a couple of squibs thrown in for brute force. At least Harry assumed they were squibs since they were doing things by hand. They could've just been honest to goodness Muggle pirates, but he didn't care that much to find out beyond trying to see who he might lift a wand from.

He wasn't sure what they were so worried about. It's not like Harry would have far to go, nor did he know anything about sailing. If I were a ninja, I could just fly away since in my free time I'd fly anyway. Harry shook his head, not sure where that random thought had come from.

Cradling Draco's head in his lap, he tried to make him as comfortable as he could, wishing he knew something, anything to do, but maybe it was for the best that Draco was out. Given how high-maintenance Draco was in general, he'd probably be getting seasick. But at least then Harry would know what was wrong. He kissed Draco's forehead, wishing that he'd gotten to say what he was going to. He had a feeling he knew what Draco was about to say, and those were words he would've given anything to hear.

Almost anything, he reminded himself. At this point, he was grateful that at least they were both still alive. That could change at any moment, he knew, but right now he had to focus on the good things. They were alive. Gilderoy Lockhart had been a lot of things in the past, but not a murderer. That didn't mean he wouldn't abandon them on some desert island, but at least then they'd have some sort of chance, which was better than the Yakuza would've given them.

"Mr um Potter?" asked one of the pirates. He looked like a proper pirate with long black dreds and an eye patch. He was only missing a parrot and a shiny gold earring, but Harry supposed that anything shiny was kept from the crew lest they outshine Lockhart.

"Yes?" Harry slid his fingers through Draco's hair as he visually searched the man for signs of magic or a wand. No such luck.

"Captain Lockhart would like to see you in his quarters for dinner. Oh. Um. Arr," said the pirate as he took out a key to unlock the door.

"'Um. Arr?'" asked Harry, tilting his head. He wasn't sure if he wanted to leave Draco, but then again, he did have some rapport with Lockhart. Maybe he could at least get him to have someone see to Draco.

"I'm new. Not quite into the pirate speak yet," said the pirate, blushing a little.

"Right. This wouldn't be an elaborate excuse for a writer to be lazy, would it?" asked Harry, eyeing some imaginary fourth wall and glaring a bit.

STFU, Potter! I read up on boat terms AND the government organization of Japan! Throw me a friggin' bone or no buttsex for you!

"Never mind," Harry said to the confused-looking nameless OC. "Just take me to your leader. Or something."


***

Gilderoy Lockhart's pirate captain quarters looked as garish as a Disney set. The curtains were gaudy lilac velvet and there were candle holders with open flames everywhere. In the center of the room was a large ornate table beset with an unusual amount of food and decanters of wine. Harry wasn't sure that he could trust Lockhart well enough to eat anything that he'd served, even if the food on the table smelled delicious.

He noticed in the corner, a rather lavish, large bed with matched velvet curtains around it, open on one side to reveal the inviting satin pillows and furs piled on it. Harry eyed the bed and then looked around for Lockhart.

Captain Lockhart seemed to come out of nowhere, looking like a giant buttercup pirate bedecked in a yellow brocade frock coat with white frog closures down the front. His hat was a spotless white and sprouted giant yellow feathers. Were Harry American, Big Bird would've come to mind, but as he was not, he was just left thinking vaguely of buttercups.

"Harry Potter, it has been so long! Tell me how wonderful I look!" said Lockhart as he crossed to Harry to air kiss each cheek.

"Oh dear," was all Harry could really say. He felt grubby in comparison to Lockhart, and yet he couldn't help but be happy that he was not so tastelessly attired. He had that same uncomfortable feeling that Lockhart always gave him, and now he was expected to compliment him. "You look very... yellow?"

"Yellow? Is that the best you can do for your old friend, Harry?" he asked as he pulled out a chair for Harry and indicated he wanted him to sit.

Remembering how he'd foiled Lockhart's plans and ruined his career, Harry was more than a little wary, but it was entirely possible that Lockhart didn't remember that. He hoped so, anyway. Harry took an uncomfortable seat, which wasn't hard to do since the chairs were markedly uncomfortable. "You look... well," said Harry weakly.

"I am well, Harry! Thank you so much for noticing. I thought this coat really brought out the highlights in my hair and suited my complexion beautifully. Plus it goes so well with my boudoir. Enough about my outfit. Let's talk about my ship. Don't you just love it?" Lockhart asked as he took his seat. He poured them each some white wine and pushed the glass in front of Harry.

"Um." Harry looked around at Gilderoy's boudoir and then back to him and the highlights in his hair. This was like dealing with Draco on mescaline. "Yeah, it's really great. Very... blue."

"Lilac, Harry. That's a color that goes well with anything. It's the new black!" said Lockhart. He took a sip of his wine and grinned at Harry. "You're not drinking!"

"I'm not much of a drinker," he said. Although he could be. He might need to be if he was going to listen to this much longer. Harry eyed the glass warily and reasoned that Lockhart had poured wine for each of them out of the same decanter. Didn't mean there wasn't anything in the glass before he poured.

"Oh, that's all right," said Lockhart. He took another swig of his wine. "I bet you're wondering all about me. I don't blame you. I'm fascinating."

"I was just thinking that," said Harry shiftily. There probably wasn't enough wine in the world to deal with this, but he remembered that Draco was counting on him and steeled himself to the task. "How did you get out of St. Mungo's?"

"That's not the most interesting story, Harry. But I suppose for you, I could talk about it," said Lockhart. He swigged his wine and poured himself another glass. He gave the bed a longing glance and then smiled at Harry. "They were trying all sorts of therapy on me to help me regain my memory and one day, it worked. But I couldn't very well let on that it had worked until I could get a hold of a wand. Then I simply erased the memories of the proper people and slipped out. Unfortunately, that story wasn't very saleable, so I decided to take to pirating and have some adventures of my own."

Lockhart looking at the bed made Harry's skin crawl. Worse yet, without a wand, he knew that he could be taken advantage of and not remember it at all. "That sounds very exciting. You've had a brilliant run at it if you're taking on ninjas, yeah?"

"Oh yes. It suits me quite well. I suppose I was pirating memories before, this is just a bit more literal. You and your friend Ron outted me anyway, but it was a bit of a blessing. Now I have my ship and my boys. Not as many photographs to sign anymore," he said, looking wistful.

"Right. Well. Right," said Harry, taking a deep breath. He should've stayed in the hold with Draco. Coming up here was just asking for trouble. "But you seem to have done all right for yourself." His boys. Harry swallowed hard.

"But you've made a name for yourself, haven't you? Not just with defeating Him, but also as an Auror. I couldn't quite help to notice that you've a taste for blond men." Lockhart smiled fondly at Harry.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from shuddering or otherwise acting repulsed by the look. "I guess you could... say that," said Harry carefully.

"Inspired by me, no doubt. It's all right, Harry. I felt the sparks back then, too. But though I may be a bit of a scallywag, I could not act on those urges. You were far too young," said Lockhart. He swirled his wine and then took another sip. "I tried to teach you what I could, of course. And now, it seems, fate has brought us back together."

Never had Harry been so happy for having an empty stomach, because that might've made him heave. His throat tightened under the strain of keeping himself under control. He wasn't only repulsed at the idea that Lockhart had lusted after him as a child, but that he seemed to think his attraction to Draco had anything to do with him was intolerable. He was at a complete loss for what to say that wouldn't be telling him off, so he kept quiet.

"Speechless to have been so easily found out? Oh Harry, dear, I am terribly sensitive. A keen observer of people," said Lockhart. He stroked Harry's cheek and then yanked his hand back and stared at it. "Have you a fever, Harry?"

Harry bit his tongue not to grin with satisfaction as he saw the burn welt on Lockhart's finger from touching him. Maybe he didn't have wandless magic, but his magic was obviously ready, willing and able to defend him. He exhaled in relief. "Yes. I'm afraid I am unwell. As is Draco. He's yet to awaken."

"What, Malfoy? Oh, he is simply stunned from the ninja cages. Impressive that he breeched their magic enough for them to retaliate in such a way, but he's fine." Lockhart pulled out his wand and charmed away the burn on his finger. "He's just having a little nap. It's easier to transport him that way."

"Oh good," said Harry, filling with relief that at least Draco wasn't irreversibly damaged. He was almost happy enough to take a swig of wine. If he thought he could trust it, he would've.

"I'm not a monster, Harry," said Lockhart, looking hurt. "Besides, if he were damaged it might affect the ransom."

"Ransom?" Harry froze. He chided himself for letting his guard down for a moment, for actually believing that things could be all right. Lockhart was a pirate. Of course there would be a ransom.

"Oh yes. I've sent out owls to several interested parties on both of you. This is why it's so important that we sate our lusts tonight, for tomorrow you will both be put somewhere safe until negotiations are done and you are sent off to your respective petitioners. I have to admit that in finding you, I thought you would be the gold mine of the deal. I'm quite pleased with the bidding war over your little friend, though," said Lockhart, grinning to himself.

Harry paled, wondering who all would be bidding for Draco. He wondered if the English Ministry would even bother if they really thought that Draco was guilty of what was going on in Japan, which just left the Yakuza, who would have loads of money to throw at Lockhart. "What about me? I could... pay for Draco," said Harry desperately.

Lockhart looked confused. "But you won't need him. I'm going to give you what you wanted and you can forget all about him."

What could he say to that? There was no politic answer to Lockhart, so he just said, "I'm in love with Draco. He's who I want to be with. It's not that you're... I mean, you're very, very attractive, but I've fallen in love with Draco."

"Love?" Lockhart's confusion deepened and he tilted his head. Then he shrugged and sighed. "Oh Harry, you wouldn't have the sort of money that the bidders have put up. Even Malfoy himself couldn't buy himself out of this. Besides, there are other opportunities within one of the organizations that I find intriguing. I'm sorry."

Harry was desperate. It turned his stomach to say, but he had to give it a try. "We could..." Harry looked at the bed and then back at Lockhart. "If you'd... give him to me."

To his surprise, Lockhart laughed. "My dear boy! What an ego you have!"

That left Harry pretty speechless for several obvious reasons.

"I was merely offering as a favor to you! As famous and lovely as I am, I hardly need to pay," said Lockhart, beaming at him.

There were several comments that came to mind about how Lockhart running a pirate ship full of fuckable men under his employ was most definitely paying for it, but he bit his tongue and nodded. "I see."

"In love with him, hm? Well, that's too bad for you. I'm afraid you two aren't likely to go to the same place." Lockhart gave him a surprisingly sympathetic smile and then stood. "But never let it be said that the Dread Pirate Gilderoy Lockhart stood in the way of true love."

Harry was surprised that Lockhart was giving up that easily until he saw Lockhart take a surreptitious look at the finger he'd burned on his cheek earlier. Right. At least Lockhart wasn't completely senseless and realized that taking advantage of Harry would be dangerous, wand or no. Harry stood and allowed Lockhart to see him out and headed down to the hold to be with Draco.

The visit had been traumatic, but at least now he knew that Draco wasn't going to die. At least, not right now. It did give him new things to worry about, like just where they were each going and whether their luck was going to run out soon. He hoped maybe Lockhart would come to the realization that love was important and would have mercy, but he doubted it. For now, he just cradled Draco in his arms and hoped he'd wake before they were dragged off in different directions so that he could tell him that he loved him in a language Draco would understand and that Draco would finish what he'd been trying to tell him before.

***

When Harry awoke, he found that Draco was pulling away from him. In his sleep, he'd wrapped himself quite securely around Draco and now that he was moving and awake, it roused Harry from his sleep.

"Draco!" said Harry, trying to inhale as he spoke, knowing his breath had to be a fright.

"Starving," Draco muttered as he reached to the small plate of sandwiches at the edge of their cage.

"Wait, I don't think we should eat anything they offer," Harry said. He sat up to pull Draco back for a discussion about this but felt the strong swirling tug and thought not again.

But it was too late. They were spinning through the outer sphere of magic, that other world of voices and pulling that sent them wherever a Portkey was likely to put them. Harry was worried about where they were headed, but was relieved that wherever it was, they were going together. That meant at least he could try to protect Draco-- although without his wand he wasn't sure how well that would work.

All at once they landed hard on what felt like a load of satiny pillows and Harry thought about Lockhart's bed and the zillion decorative pillows. He wondered if they weren't both sent to his boudoir, only wherever they were was pitch black. It smelled of must and sea water, but he didn't hear the faint echo sound of water that would indicate a cave.

"Bloody buggering fucking fuckers!" Draco huffed. "Lumos!"

A small ball of light formed in the palm of Draco's hand, eerie in its absolute white glow that flickered over his pale face. "Next time I try to touch something, Potter, you may cut my hands off."

Harry reached out to push Draco's hair out of his face and caressed his fingers over his cheek. He wanted to know where they were, but he was just so grateful to be here with Draco where he could touch him and speak with him that he just had to interact a little before more practical concerns. "It's all right. You just woke up. You were out for a while."

Draco stopped peering around and looked at Harry and tilted his head before a soft smile spread over his face. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Yeah, I was trying to get our wands. I figured that would... I guess I hoped you'd get our wands and get us out of there."

"I wanted to," said Harry, frowning that he let Draco down.

"I know if it were at all possible, you of all people would've done it," said Draco, staring intently into Harry's eyes. Draco pulled away enough to straighten Harry's glasses and pushed his hair back from his face.

Heartened by Draco's declaration, Harry exhaled and nodded. He looked up and around, noticing that the room they were in was peculiar in that there were no traditional walls or ceiling, but rather that they were in the bottom of a round orb atop several layers of pillows that formed a somewhat flat surface to serve as a floor.

He reached out to touch what looked like a black wall to find it was cold and wet. On further probing with his finger, he found it wasn't merely wet, but that the wall was actually liquid. Squinting, Harry could see strange lights out in the distance that he couldn't quite place. "What? Where... are we?" asked Harry.

Draco didn't appear any more certain than Harry was, his face a mask of confusion as he narrowed his eyes in another direction. He crawled away from Harry slowly as if he wasn't sure he should go.

"Don't touch anything," said Harry quietly. That remark won Harry a look from Draco over his shoulder followed by a slight shrug as if Draco might be quietly admitting to himself that there was wisdom in it.

Harry followed him. The room wasn't huge, but it was large enough for them to stand and walk around in-- about the size of a comfortable living room. There were books scattered around the floor that they clambered over. Harry took a moment to look at one which had Lockhart's grinning face entitled Magical Me. "Oh for the love of..." Harry started.

He was cut off by Draco's gasp. Draco had stood up and was frozen to the spot, staring in horror as just beyond the liquid wall, an open-mouthed toothy fish swam right at Draco. Harry leapt up and tackled Draco to the floor, eyes wide up at the beast. But instead of coming through the wall, the shark froze at the edge, its nose flat against the clear surface. It was as if it were suspended in time as it was moved several meters to the right until it was clear of the bubble and then it was let go of again and it swam right past.

"I hate fish," said Draco as he glared at the space the shark used to occupy.

Now that Harry knew what was out there, he found it rather interesting. All of those lights must be the flares and flashes of deep sea creatures who probably found it rather unsettling to have so much light cast around. Something large swam over the top of the bubble and Draco glared at the sickly paleness of it.

"You hate fish? As in, you don't eat fish?" asked Harry, thinking conversation would be the only way to get that frightened expression off of Draco's face. Obviously, Draco was thinking about what could happen if the magic failed and the water came rushing in. Harry pushed that thought aside, deciding that Gilderoy Lockhart had too much riding on their survival, if only to ransom them off to someone for that to happen to them.

"No, I love eating fish. I don't like seeing them swim around and... you know... try to eat me," said Draco, wincing as something of an odd shape with glittering tendrils swept by.

"I like fish. They're interesting. You know, there was a Muggle superhero that could talk to fish like I can talk to snakes," said Harry as he pulled Draco closer to him, wrapping his arms securely around his torso as they sat up again.

"Why would anyone like fish? Or want to talk to them? What could they possibly have on their minds?" asked Draco. Harry was pleased that Draco squirmed around so that they could face one another.

"What would you think snakes are thinking about? I imagine they have loads of things on their minds. Probably all sorts of fish politics, who gets to swim at the head of the school, whether their fishy mate is faithful to them... maybe they worry about their eggs," said Harry as he smoothed Draco's hair down.

Draco rewarded him with a smile and kissed his nose. "You're a nutter, Potter. Did you know?"

It was such a sweet, intimate gesture that Harry couldn't help reflecting on what they'd almost said to one another back in Japan. They were words he'd longed to hear and longed to speak in a language that Draco could understand. Now that they were snuggling and holding one another, maybe now would be a good time to talk about it. He wasn't sure how soon they'd be ripped apart again or what may yet come, so he screwed up his courage and smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm a big nutter. And speaking of being a nutter... you almost said something to me... back in Japan..."

When he thought about his segue, he cringed at himself. Clumsy. Hamfisted. And it made him sound like he thought Draco was mad for wanting to say it. He could read all of that in Draco's confused and hurt expression. "Not that I think you're a nutter for what I think you were going to say. It's something I've... I want to say that to you, too."

The damage had been done, though. Draco's gaze dropped and he shrugged. "I was about to die and probably take you down with me. Don't worry about it too much. It was just one of those... things you say when you're about to shuffle off, is all."

Harry slid his finger under Draco's chin, forcing him to look him in the eye and maintain that. "Draco, don't do that. We may yet die and not have another chance to say things to one another even now. I don't believe that's why you were saying it. Don't be a coward now. Tell me what you were going to say."

He could see the defensiveness in Draco's eyes, the way that they frosted over in defiance for a moment as each word hit him, particularly the notion of being a coward. He averted his eyes and Harry pinched his chin, forcing Draco to look at him again.

"Draco, I mean it," he said. He could feel Draco's irritation coming off of him in waves. "Lockhart's going to sell us each to the highest bidder. Do you really think that England is going to pay more for you than the Yakuza will? This really could be it. If you won't give me the satisfaction of maybe a few hours of spending time with you where we're open with each other about our feelings, don't you at least owe it to yourself?"

What little color was left in Draco's pallid face vanished as the truth of their situation hit him. His gaze darted wildly around the perimeter of the room before he finally focused on Harry. Then he blushed deeply and his expression became softer. "Harry."

"Please," Harry whispered. He kissed him tenderly, tasting his lips, feeling the warmth of him, hoping it would suffuse him with courage to say what he needed to hear.

Breaking the kiss, Harry looked intently at Draco, who gazed back at him longingly.

After a few long, slow breaths, Draco said, "Harry, I... I... lo-- Lockhart?"

Harry squinted at Draco, his mouth gaped open as he tried to figure out if he'd really heard what he thought he'd just heard. "Excuse me?"

But Draco wasn't looking at him, his eyes were higher up and Harry turned to see the grinning presence of Gilderoy Lockhart standing behind them. "Aww, young love! That was a sweet kiss, but I'm the better kisser, wouldn't you agree, Harry?"

"What? I never kissed you!" Harry sputtered. He turned to look at Draco who was eyeing him suspiciously. So close.

"Right, of course not!" said Lockhart. Harry turned around in time to see Lockhart wink obviously at him.

In his fury, Harry jumped up to throttle Lockhart, but the man pulled his wand and said, "Temper, temper, Mr Potter. And I was just coming down here to tell you that your way is paid back to England. Bidding war is still active for Mr Malfoy. Quite exciting. I'd thought the wages for Harry Potter would make me wealthy, but it seems there's a keen interest in Mr Malfoy. I suppose blondes really do have more fun."

Harry's heart leapt. England was bidding for Draco! He couldn't believe it, but he was thrilled. "So Draco will be heading back to London soon?" He turned to help Draco stand up with him. Either Draco was over his anger or he didn't care to think about it now, as he stood next to Harry and slipped an arm around him.

"Oh no! Not England. Some sort of Japanese bidding war. I'm not sure I really understand it, but were I not so young, I could retire!" said Lockhart.

"Wait. England isn't bidding for me?" asked Draco, his eyes wide not just in shock, but in fear again.

"Oh no, they didn't even try for you. They were only interested in ransoming Harry. I probably could've held out for a bigger price but it seemed hardly worth the bother!" said Lockhart. He looked far too happy about this and Harry considered throttling him. Maybe his face would turn that shade of lilac he was so fond of.

Draco shot Harry a tortured look and sighed. He gave him a quick squeeze and kissed his temple. He started to whisper into Harry's ear, "I..."

But Harry cut him off. "Wait. Look... can you... give us a few minutes?" he asked Lockhart. As much as it pained him to cut Draco off from saying that, he wanted this moment to be private. "How did you get in here anyway?"

"Apparition," said Lockhart. "I was going to take you back with me personally. Normally I just set up a Portkey, but since you're Harry Potter and all...."

The lascivious look on Lockhart's face made Harry want to heave yet again and he felt Draco tense next to him. For a wild moment, he wondered if Draco could Apparate wandlessly. Some wizards could do it, and certainly Draco had that kind of power. Then it occurred to him that he had no idea what ocean they were in and where they could safely land. It would do them no good to splinch themselves into the side of a rock or end up drowning because they were too far in the middle of nowhere. Only Lockhart knew where they were and he had the wand and therefore the most power.

"Look, I'm never going to see him again," said Harry. "Can you just leave me with the Portkey. I appreciate the effort and all, but..." Harry looked at Draco who had a very strange, eager look in his eye. Maybe he was just ready to say those words.

"Are you certain? Apparition is ever so much more pleasant," said Lockhart, looking a bit put out.

It was almost funny to Harry that his kidnapper seemed to be pouting, but the situation was too serious to properly laugh. "Yes. Please."

"Oh, very well," said Lockhart. "Portus!" he said, directing his spell to his copy of Magical Me. "Just grab that when you're ready. It will take you back to London."

"Thank you," said Harry, as he looked down at it.

"But just one of you, so don't get any ideas!" said Lockhart, shaking his finger as he gave a genial smile to them both. "And don't take too long with your goodbyes, Harry. I know how you are!" Lockhart winked knowingly at Harry and then grinned at Draco's glare. In a flash and a loud crack that ended in a puff of pink smoke, Lockhart had Disapparated, leaving a blue rose behind.

Harry exhaled and looked down at the rose. "There is no help for him. Anyway, you know what he was saying was all bollocks, right? I would never..."

When Harry wheeled around to see Draco, he was shocked to find him naked. Shocked and pleased. No, more shocked, really. But it was never difficult to talk him into a shag, he just wanted to hear those words at some point before he left. Or maybe he should let Draco leave. He was trying to think of what to do about that when Draco attacked Harry's robe, unbuttoning it. "Are you in a hurry?" asked Harry.

"Yes. And also, you are the most brilliant man I've ever... you just... I..." said Draco. He pushed Harry down onto the pillows and straddled him, kissing him fiercely.

Distantly, Harry was worried about his breath, but this seemed like a moot point, as Draco didn't taste amiss and really, he was being undressed at a rapid pace. Brilliant? Was he sucking up to Harry to let him take his place to go to England? Harry bristled at the thought and felt instantly defensive. All Draco would have had to do was to ask. He would gladly have given his life for Draco if he knew that Draco really loved him. He didn't need to try and manipulate it out of him.

"Draco," said Harry as he pushed him back by the shoulders to detangle from the kiss. But Draco already had his trousers and pants undone and was fishing his cock out. His hand was already slick with wandless lubrication and sliding over his cock. Harry couldn't help it, Draco knew just how to touch him and where and he was already biting his bottom lip as he felt the ridges of Draco's slick fingers thrumming over him. "Draco, you don't have to... I'd gladly die for you... I just want you to..."

"Die for me?" Draco stopped and stared down at Harry in confusion. "I don't want you to die for me. I'd never..."

Harry sat up on his elbow, looking down at the strange tableau of Draco straddling him, standing up on his knees fondling Harry's cock behind him as his own swayed inches above Harry's body. It was all Harry could do not to just reach out and grab it, but he was quite confused now as to what exactly was going on. "Why are you... I mean, I want to do this, don't get me wrong, but..."

"You would die for me, Harry?" asked Draco. It was hard to tell if he was touched or terrified. Draco probably wasn't sure which he felt.

At this point, Harry felt way too out on a limb to answer, so he looked down at Draco's cock and then slipped his fingers over it. "What are we doing then?"

"You really don't know what we're doing or why, do you?" Draco stopped talking and leaned over to kiss Harry deeply, squirming against him as he directed Harry's prick between his cheeks and eased him in solidly. He broke the kiss to grunt and inhale from Harry's mouth.

It was vexing that Draco seemed to have this plan that Harry couldn't fathom and it was even more bothersome that Draco seemed to be completely unaware of how much Harry loved him. Not that he'd bothered to say it directly, but he was here, he was doing this, he'd saved his life with a shag. Shouldn't that have counted for something?

As frustrating as it was, it was difficult to remain irritated with Draco when he was plunged inside of him. It was harder still when Draco rode him so skillfully with his arms on either side of Harry's body and his back flexing and arching desperately. Draco's face was pinched up and red, his brows forming a crease over his nose. Still, he somehow managed to be gazing down at Harry, his often cold grey eyes soft, and if Harry wanted to stretch his imagination a bit, he could call the look loving.

"What... are... we doing?" asked Harry. Now that his brain had caught up with the slick slide of his cock easing in and out of Draco, he started to move his hand. Normally, he would've liked to see his hand on Draco's cock, liked to think that it was his, that he owned it, owned Draco. But there was still so much mystery around him, so much that could go wrong, and he was evidently enacting a plan Harry was clueless about.

"We've... done this... before," said Draco. He smirked down at Harry, a gesture which Harry found both irritating and endearing.

"Yes... but... why are we..." asked Harry. He flattened his feet on the pillows and grabbed Draco's hips and held him up a few inches.

Draco immediately grabbed his own cock and pulled at himself, as Harry slammed himself deep inside of Draco, his thighs shuddering from the force of how hard he thrust.

"Portkey... only one person... can go through...." Draco panted. His hand was a blur on his cock, his face twisted in pleasure, especially when Harry paused to correct his angle, finding a better way to reach that spot inside of him. "Shagging... two souls as one? Or... beast with two backs?"

"Charming," said Harry, referring to Draco's colorful expression. But he got it, and it was clever. If they were having sex, perhaps they would count as one person. One inside of the other. A meeting of souls. It was a bit of a romantic notion, but then, Draco had been saved by that before. He gazed up at Draco again, loving him all the more for how clever he was, and that he seemed to think that Harry would've thought of this as well. Maybe he would have, given enough time.

"Want to... when we... come... together... just to... be sure," said Draco. His body was just beginning to prickle with sweat and his face took on that last pained expression just before he came.

Harry moved harder and faster into him, concentrating on how amazing Draco felt, how beautiful he was, how much he loved him and how he needed to come so they could get out of here. "Going to..." Harry said.

Draco flopped forward on top of him and kissed Harry deeply as he reached out to grab the book.

"I love you."

What?

Immediately he felt the gut-wrenching pull of travel through Portkeys, a sensation that he was hoping he'd get used to, particularly if it was going to keep happening every few pages. He was so disoriented that now not even he knew if he was the one who said those three words or if Draco said them. What he did know, or what he thought he knew, was that Draco was still there, that they were stuck together, clinging to one another and naked.

Just then, he had a sudden thought, a barb in their plan. They were naked, and they were on their way to England. Both were good things on their own. However, he had no idea where in England they were going to land.

It felt like something hit his back, and then there was a loud splash and Harry's ass felt cold. He clutched Draco as his vision tried to clear from all of the spinning and he heard, "Mummy! Harry Potter's making a weird face in the fountain!"

Then the screaming started and men were shouting. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, pretty sure that they must have landed in the Fountain of Magical Brethren in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

A strange sense of protective modesty made him grab Draco's arse in the hopes of shielding it from public view. He could feel Knuts imprinting on his bum under him. Harry knew he should act faster than this, but at the moment, he was torn between afterglow, relief and utter humiliation. It made it hard to be rational.

"Potter, wake up!" Kingsley's voice boomed at him before he felt the strong hands on his shoulders and felt Draco lift off of him. He barely had time to thank Kingsley for the blanket that twisted him and Draco together when he was dragged out of the fountain.

Chaos was all around them and Harry thought it was pretty silly that two men shagging in the fountain was all it took for this kind of pandemonium to break out in the Ministry of Magic. Mothers and fathers were covering their children's eyes. Women were screaming at men who were pointing at one another as if looking for someone to blame.

Draco was, of all things, cackling at the panic.

"It's not funny, Malfoy!" said Harry, sure he was red from head to foot.

"Oh come on, it's a little funny!" said Draco.

Kingsley rolled his eyes and dragged them to the gilded fireplaces. He dragged them in with him and threw the powder and within seconds they were in Kingsley's well-appointed flat.

Harry was surprised at how stylish it was, although he wasn't sure what made it so surprising. It was definitely masculine, with the trappings of leather couches and dark wood. There was a huge portrait of the London skyline at night that moved and twinkled on the large wall opposite them and to the right was a wet bar.

Instead of being offered a drink, Kingsley whirled them around and summoned clothes for them to change into. He turned his back on them to give them privacy as the two smaller men put on his robes and when they said that they were ready, Kingsley turned around and made adjustments so that they fit.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then everyone tried to speak at once.

"We didn't know that..."

"That wasn't our intention..."

"London isn't safe for you anymore," said Kingsley. His voice won out over the other two and Draco and Harry stared up at him in shock. "It's not safe for Malfoy, anyway."

"What do you mean?" asked Draco. He looked at Harry warily and then back at Kingsley.

"I mean that the Ministry is compromised. If it hasn't been bought off, then it's at least disinterested in seeing whether you're guilty or innocent of what happened in Japan. If they see you, they'll send you back there." Kingsley turned to Harry and said, "You need to find somewhere to put him to keep him safe."

Harry nodded. "Somewhere outside of London, or just somewhere secret?"

"Preferably outside of London, but if you've somewhere Unplottable you could take him," said Kingsley meaningfully.

"Hey, I'm standing right here!" said Draco, looking between them. He had pushed his hair back several times now, and each time he did so it seemed to make his pale hair even wilder with the static.

"But Grimmauld... it was Dumbledore's spell, I'm not sure how to break it. Can it be broken?" asked Harry. He ignored Draco verbally, but slid his arm around him to pull him closer so he might feel like he was part of the conversation. Also, he was terribly afraid for him and he needed the contact after all of that.

"It's your house, Harry. It can be broken, but it won't be easy. Once it's broken, though, you'll have to cast another Fidelius on it, but if you make Draco your Secret Keeper and he stays put, you'll be all right."

"Stays put?" asked Draco. He tried to detangle himself from Harry, but it was futile. Harry wasn't going to let him go. "I'm not staying put! I have to fix this!"

Kingsley looked down at him. "You can sort it out later. You need to get yourself hidden first, then you can start planning. I'll help where I can. Harry, you'll want to come into work as if nothing's happening. They'll question you, but the Ministry isn't going to take on your reputation, I don't think."

Harry nodded, although he was pretty sure that he wasn't as unimpeachable as Kingsley might believe. "All right. After I stash Draco."

"I don't need to be stashed! I can hide myself! But I need to work on this!" Draco protested, but it was weaker, as if he realized that maybe he did need some time to really plan.

"Deal with it once you have somewhere you can trust. I won't know where it is, but you can count on my help. And I'm sure Ron and Tonks will help. I wouldn't trust anyone else. There's a lot of... upheaval lately. Just... be careful," said Kingsley as he stepped aside to give Harry and Draco access to the Floo. "I'd let you stay here, but I'm afraid this will be one of the places they'll look. I wasn't granted immunity for an Unplottable residence."

"You were given immunity?" asked Draco as he looked at Harry with his eyes wide.

"Um. Yeah. They couldn't guarantee that there wouldn't be rogue Death Eaters about trying to find me in my sleep, and... yeah. But won't they figure Draco's staying with me?" Harry looked up at Kingsley and pulled Draco with him. He tried to sort out where they could go and decided the safest bet was nowhere near the Floo network. He pulled Draco towards the door.

Kingsley nodded his approval and headed to the door. "They probably will, but there's not much they can do about it outside of questioning you. You're skilled enough to lie through Veritaserum."

Harry shifted uncomfortably and nodded, ignoring Draco's questioning look.

"Oh, I almost forgot. You'll need wands. I assume you weren't hiding them... anywhere," said Kingsley, half grinning. He left the room and returned with two wands of radically different sizes. One appeared to be made of rosewood; the other might've been yew. "I'll want those back. I should be able to return your wand to you when you come in, Harry. I just haven't received it yet. Malfoy... yours is probably lost."

"I've some other wands at my flat..." said Draco.

"You can't go to your flat yet, but perhaps Tonks or someone can stop by. Those should see you through what you need to do," said Kingsley. He headed to his front door and cast a spell to see outside of it, just to make sure no one was out there. "No one's there yet. But go quickly. I'm sure they'll sort out where I took you soon enough."

"Thank you, Kingsley," said Harry as he pulled Draco with him. "Thank you for everything."

Kingsley waved it off. "It's the right thing to do."

"Not many people would see that, or even say that in the face of..." said Harry, wishing he had better words of thanks to give.

"Yes, thank you," said Draco before he tugged Harry to the door.

"Go on. Get out. And good luck!" said Kingsley.

Draco opened the door and Harry followed him, his pulse racing. He thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It might've been a hallucination or it might've been a ninja. He wasn't going to stick around to find out. With a loud crack, Harry Apparated them to the most random place he could think of.

"What is that smell?" asked Draco.

Harry looked around and sighed. "Wales."