Fallen Star (Sequel to Shooting Star) COMPLETE
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
33
Views:
17,323
Reviews:
176
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
33
Views:
17,323
Reviews:
176
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Norton’s Way
Chapter Number/Total: 15/32
Chapter Title: Norton’s Way
Words: 2034 Words
Harry did learn he could dampen or strengthen his magic field. Much to Draco's delight. When they weren’t "practising" that or at work, they were hunting for a new flat. They went back to the same agent who had helped last time. In some ways, it was easier. They had phones, an address and jobs to show. But they, especially Draco, were much more particular about both location and the flat itself. They finally found a small one-bedroom in the Noe Valley area. Mark even volunteered to use his car to help them move.
Harry opened the door with a grin once Mark had parked the car. "I think I like this place better," he announced, looking bright.
"Better be, given what we are paying for it," Draco huffed, and climbed out of the overfull car.
Harry laughed softly, glancing at Mark once he got out of the car. "Thank you so much, Mark," he said. "I owe you."
Draco was wishing they could just Apparate with the stuff from one place to the other. But that kind of magic would definitely alert the agency handled magic in the city. As it was, they would have to be careful to try not to use magic in the new place if they were to stay hidden.
Harry went to work on carrying the things into their new home, working up a sweat. Twice he thought about using magic to just make them fly into the house, and twice he stopped himself. They couldn't be making such mistakes again.
Draco had to admit; Mark worked hard helping them and never complained. Well, he didn't have to admit it aloud. They didn't own a lot of things, but carrying the futon down and then up stairs wasn't his idea of fun. Nor the chest of drawers. Finally, the last box was brought up and the three of them collapsed onto the futon, trying to catch their breath.
"Bloody hell," Draco complained.
"I can't move my arms," Mark said, panting softly from in between them. "I don't think I can feel my arms," Harry added, blinking up at the ceiling. He glanced at the two of them before he started laughing, slowly getting louder as he gasped in between.
Draco laughed too, feeling relief at the job done. "I’m hungry. Let's go to the pizza place I saw down the street," he suggested.
"I don't want to drive, so we're walking," Mark said, beginning to sit up. He patted Harry and Draco's thighs, getting off the bed with a groan. "Come on, you two."
Draco startled at the touch from the other man, glancing uncomfortably at Harry. He nodded, getting to his feet.
Harry thought nothing of the touch as he got up as well, leaving the room first and expecting them to follow. "I want pepperoni on mine."
"Of course, you do," Draco drawled, knowing his lover's preferences by now. "And I will get the gourmet pesto and chicken."
Harry made a face as they left the house, glancing back at Draco. "Pepperoni tastes better."
"I'm going to have to say that I would like some of both of them," Mark said, grinning.
Draco rolled his eyes but smiled.
***
They found a corner booth in the pizza place and ordered. Draco sat back, leaning back with a sigh, happy to have the move made. "I want to get a real bed," he said.
"A big, soft one," Harry added, smiling at Draco. "And the best part is that you won't have those neighbours who called the police," Mark said, grinning at them as Harry blushed.
Draco frowned, realising that meant Harry had told Mark at least part of the story about the police. "We still have neighbours, but the walls seemed better made at this one," he said.
"Much better," Harry said, shifting closer to Draco and relaxing against him.
Mark folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them as he smiled softly, admiring them. "You should let me draw the both of you."
Draco knew that Mark had drawn several portraits of Harry. "You want to draw me?" he asked, surprised.
"Yes," Mark replied. "I have a good amount of Harlan, I'll need a few of you to balance it out. And some of the both of you together."
Draco remembered the only portrait of him ever done. Probably still hanging in Malfoy Manor. It was a family portrait done of his parents and himself when he was ten. He didn't know how he felt about having a Muggle picture of himself made.
"It'll be nice," Harry said, glancing at Draco again. "Mark's a really good artist. You'll see."
"So I have news," Mark said, smirking.
Harry looked at him curiously, a small smile on his face. "Go on then."
"I did what you said," Mark explained, "and I got accepted to the Art Institute."
Harry grinned, leaning over the table to pat him on the shoulder. "That's great, Mark! I told you you would!"
Draco smiled too, and nodded. "Congratulations," he said.
"Yeah, I start in the fall," Mark said.
"I'm really happy for you," Harry said, reaching over to pat his hand.
"And you?" Mark asked. "Have you heard yet?"
Draco shook his head. "No word from CIA yet," he said.
"I'm sure you're going to get in," Harry said firmly, looking at Draco. "You're much too good for them to not accept you."
Draco hoped he was right and that the school didn’t check his bogus references to schools in England. He couldn’t very well put Hogwarts on the application, so he had picked out something that sounded appropriately close. He smiled at Harry, hand under the table reaching to squeeze his thigh. They talked about how Mark and Draco would balance school and work, gossiped a bit about their co-workers and finally, yawning, walked Mark back to his car.
"Thanks again for your help," Harry said, stepping up to hug Mark. Now that he was able to control the magic around him, he let Mark feel a bit of the warmth, just so he could really know how thankful he was.
Draco frowned, nodding at Mark and then taking Harry's hand to lead him back to their new place.
"When are we going to get that bed?" Harry asked once they stepped inside, heading up to their new room.
"Soon as you want," Draco answered with a smile. "And we’ll be breaking it in immediately after," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows.
"That sounds perfect," Harry said, smiling. Once they stepped inside, Harry turned around and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Thank you, Draco," he whispered, once he leant back. "For all of this."
***
Draco had tied his hair back and now hitched the hood of the trench coat up over his head. It was a typical early, foggy morning in San Francisco. Odds are it would burn off by the afternoon, but for now, this coat and the fog helped camouflage him well enough.
He made his way down the street past the colourful people, who were hurrying down Haight Street to shops where shopkeepers were just turning cards over from “Closed” to “Open.” Harry and Draco rarely got up this early, but Mark had dragged Harry off to some show. It gave Draco the excuse to be alone for which he had been looking. The store was named “World’s Lost” and he found it readily enough. The small bell rang as he stepped inside and into a world of chaos. It was one of the ubiquitous second-hand shops in the city, only with more colour than one usually found. The first item to meet his eyes was a neon coloured, nearly life-sized Palm tree. It was a lamp. Beside it was a glass table with what looked like elephant legs for pedestals to hold it up. The shop was positively brimming with the oddest assortment of objects he had ever seen. Which, given his background, was truly strange.
He pretended to browse, picking up a pewter bowl shaped like a dolphin and finding it priced at five-hundred dollars. Slowly he made his way to the back of the shop, ignoring the staff and other patrons. Finally, in dim corner in the second room, he found what had come for. It was nearly eight feet tall and appeared to be an Egyptian sarcophagus, standing against the back wall. He glanced carefully about to make sure no one was looking and then drew his wand. “Open Sesame,” he intoned, trying not to snort at the American sense of humour in that, and tapped the centre of the image of a long dead Pharaoh. The lid opened like a door and he stepped into it. As it closed behind him, another door opened in front of him.
He stepped into the other side of the store – the other side of San Francisco. This side of the shop was full to bursting with similarly odd items, but it was much more reminiscent of Borgin & Burkes in Diagon Alley. The witch behind the counter nodded at him and he nodded back before moving out of the store and into the cobbled street beyond. He blinked and gave himself a minute to scan the magical centre of the city. Norton’s Way was as colourful as the Muggle street he had just left. Most of the shops were multiple stories here and had balconies running around the inside of the square. Some of the shops were easily recognisable to him – a book shop named “A Very Different Light,” a wand shop named “Sticks” and an apothecary belonging to “Egg Shen.”
Standing in the middle of the square was an odd statue of a pudgy, bearded man wearing a uniform, a stripped fur hat decorated with a peacock feather and a rosette, and carrying a closed, cane-style umbrella. Pigeons perched on the hat. The plaque below read, “His Imperial Majesty Emperor Norton I, First President of the Magical Association of North America.” Draco had heard of MANA before. It was the governing body of wizards, witches and other magical creatures in this part of the world. The democratic nature of it was confusing to him, especially since it gave equal rights to non-human magical creatures.
Careful to keep his hood up, Draco went to the bookshop and purchased a copy of Daily Magic, the San Francisco paper. The shop took Muggle money as easily as Galleons and he noticed that the people here didn’t dress much different from those on Haight Street. Of course, people on Haight Street tended to dress in weird and colourful ways accepted in few places outside of San Francisco.
Draco took his paper and sat down on a bench in the square to read it. He knew better than to take the paper home with him. He didn’t want Harry to know he had been visiting the magical part of San Francisco. It was dangerous. But Draco felt it was important to know what was happening back in England. Reading between the lines of the Muggle papers just wasn’t enough.
He scanned the local news but quickly turned to the International section. MANA had closed its borders to wizards and witches from Great Britain months ago and now there was a big controversy over what to do with refugees from Voldemort’s reign. Illegal Portkeys and others seeking to circumvent visas were a big issue now, and there was a crackdown on them. He and Harry had been lucky to have gotten into the country when they did.
The news was grim. Voldemort’s regime was now accused of mass murder of Muggleborns, and other parts of Europe seemed to be coming under the Death Eater influence as well. MANA was still debating whether they should get involved. Draco knew that most the wizarding world believed Harry Potter was dead, but he was interested to read that there still existed an underground resistance movement that broadcast on the radio. He finished the paper with a sigh, dropping it into a nearby bin and made his way out of Norton’s Way.
[NOTE: M.A.N.A., Norton’s Way and other descriptions of the San Francisco magical world are 2007 copyright of Slashpervert. Please don’t use without permission, I do intend to use them again in other fiction.]
Chapter Title: Norton’s Way
Words: 2034 Words
Harry did learn he could dampen or strengthen his magic field. Much to Draco's delight. When they weren’t "practising" that or at work, they were hunting for a new flat. They went back to the same agent who had helped last time. In some ways, it was easier. They had phones, an address and jobs to show. But they, especially Draco, were much more particular about both location and the flat itself. They finally found a small one-bedroom in the Noe Valley area. Mark even volunteered to use his car to help them move.
Harry opened the door with a grin once Mark had parked the car. "I think I like this place better," he announced, looking bright.
"Better be, given what we are paying for it," Draco huffed, and climbed out of the overfull car.
Harry laughed softly, glancing at Mark once he got out of the car. "Thank you so much, Mark," he said. "I owe you."
Draco was wishing they could just Apparate with the stuff from one place to the other. But that kind of magic would definitely alert the agency handled magic in the city. As it was, they would have to be careful to try not to use magic in the new place if they were to stay hidden.
Harry went to work on carrying the things into their new home, working up a sweat. Twice he thought about using magic to just make them fly into the house, and twice he stopped himself. They couldn't be making such mistakes again.
Draco had to admit; Mark worked hard helping them and never complained. Well, he didn't have to admit it aloud. They didn't own a lot of things, but carrying the futon down and then up stairs wasn't his idea of fun. Nor the chest of drawers. Finally, the last box was brought up and the three of them collapsed onto the futon, trying to catch their breath.
"Bloody hell," Draco complained.
"I can't move my arms," Mark said, panting softly from in between them. "I don't think I can feel my arms," Harry added, blinking up at the ceiling. He glanced at the two of them before he started laughing, slowly getting louder as he gasped in between.
Draco laughed too, feeling relief at the job done. "I’m hungry. Let's go to the pizza place I saw down the street," he suggested.
"I don't want to drive, so we're walking," Mark said, beginning to sit up. He patted Harry and Draco's thighs, getting off the bed with a groan. "Come on, you two."
Draco startled at the touch from the other man, glancing uncomfortably at Harry. He nodded, getting to his feet.
Harry thought nothing of the touch as he got up as well, leaving the room first and expecting them to follow. "I want pepperoni on mine."
"Of course, you do," Draco drawled, knowing his lover's preferences by now. "And I will get the gourmet pesto and chicken."
Harry made a face as they left the house, glancing back at Draco. "Pepperoni tastes better."
"I'm going to have to say that I would like some of both of them," Mark said, grinning.
Draco rolled his eyes but smiled.
***
They found a corner booth in the pizza place and ordered. Draco sat back, leaning back with a sigh, happy to have the move made. "I want to get a real bed," he said.
"A big, soft one," Harry added, smiling at Draco. "And the best part is that you won't have those neighbours who called the police," Mark said, grinning at them as Harry blushed.
Draco frowned, realising that meant Harry had told Mark at least part of the story about the police. "We still have neighbours, but the walls seemed better made at this one," he said.
"Much better," Harry said, shifting closer to Draco and relaxing against him.
Mark folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them as he smiled softly, admiring them. "You should let me draw the both of you."
Draco knew that Mark had drawn several portraits of Harry. "You want to draw me?" he asked, surprised.
"Yes," Mark replied. "I have a good amount of Harlan, I'll need a few of you to balance it out. And some of the both of you together."
Draco remembered the only portrait of him ever done. Probably still hanging in Malfoy Manor. It was a family portrait done of his parents and himself when he was ten. He didn't know how he felt about having a Muggle picture of himself made.
"It'll be nice," Harry said, glancing at Draco again. "Mark's a really good artist. You'll see."
"So I have news," Mark said, smirking.
Harry looked at him curiously, a small smile on his face. "Go on then."
"I did what you said," Mark explained, "and I got accepted to the Art Institute."
Harry grinned, leaning over the table to pat him on the shoulder. "That's great, Mark! I told you you would!"
Draco smiled too, and nodded. "Congratulations," he said.
"Yeah, I start in the fall," Mark said.
"I'm really happy for you," Harry said, reaching over to pat his hand.
"And you?" Mark asked. "Have you heard yet?"
Draco shook his head. "No word from CIA yet," he said.
"I'm sure you're going to get in," Harry said firmly, looking at Draco. "You're much too good for them to not accept you."
Draco hoped he was right and that the school didn’t check his bogus references to schools in England. He couldn’t very well put Hogwarts on the application, so he had picked out something that sounded appropriately close. He smiled at Harry, hand under the table reaching to squeeze his thigh. They talked about how Mark and Draco would balance school and work, gossiped a bit about their co-workers and finally, yawning, walked Mark back to his car.
"Thanks again for your help," Harry said, stepping up to hug Mark. Now that he was able to control the magic around him, he let Mark feel a bit of the warmth, just so he could really know how thankful he was.
Draco frowned, nodding at Mark and then taking Harry's hand to lead him back to their new place.
"When are we going to get that bed?" Harry asked once they stepped inside, heading up to their new room.
"Soon as you want," Draco answered with a smile. "And we’ll be breaking it in immediately after," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows.
"That sounds perfect," Harry said, smiling. Once they stepped inside, Harry turned around and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Thank you, Draco," he whispered, once he leant back. "For all of this."
***
Draco had tied his hair back and now hitched the hood of the trench coat up over his head. It was a typical early, foggy morning in San Francisco. Odds are it would burn off by the afternoon, but for now, this coat and the fog helped camouflage him well enough.
He made his way down the street past the colourful people, who were hurrying down Haight Street to shops where shopkeepers were just turning cards over from “Closed” to “Open.” Harry and Draco rarely got up this early, but Mark had dragged Harry off to some show. It gave Draco the excuse to be alone for which he had been looking. The store was named “World’s Lost” and he found it readily enough. The small bell rang as he stepped inside and into a world of chaos. It was one of the ubiquitous second-hand shops in the city, only with more colour than one usually found. The first item to meet his eyes was a neon coloured, nearly life-sized Palm tree. It was a lamp. Beside it was a glass table with what looked like elephant legs for pedestals to hold it up. The shop was positively brimming with the oddest assortment of objects he had ever seen. Which, given his background, was truly strange.
He pretended to browse, picking up a pewter bowl shaped like a dolphin and finding it priced at five-hundred dollars. Slowly he made his way to the back of the shop, ignoring the staff and other patrons. Finally, in dim corner in the second room, he found what had come for. It was nearly eight feet tall and appeared to be an Egyptian sarcophagus, standing against the back wall. He glanced carefully about to make sure no one was looking and then drew his wand. “Open Sesame,” he intoned, trying not to snort at the American sense of humour in that, and tapped the centre of the image of a long dead Pharaoh. The lid opened like a door and he stepped into it. As it closed behind him, another door opened in front of him.
He stepped into the other side of the store – the other side of San Francisco. This side of the shop was full to bursting with similarly odd items, but it was much more reminiscent of Borgin & Burkes in Diagon Alley. The witch behind the counter nodded at him and he nodded back before moving out of the store and into the cobbled street beyond. He blinked and gave himself a minute to scan the magical centre of the city. Norton’s Way was as colourful as the Muggle street he had just left. Most of the shops were multiple stories here and had balconies running around the inside of the square. Some of the shops were easily recognisable to him – a book shop named “A Very Different Light,” a wand shop named “Sticks” and an apothecary belonging to “Egg Shen.”
Standing in the middle of the square was an odd statue of a pudgy, bearded man wearing a uniform, a stripped fur hat decorated with a peacock feather and a rosette, and carrying a closed, cane-style umbrella. Pigeons perched on the hat. The plaque below read, “His Imperial Majesty Emperor Norton I, First President of the Magical Association of North America.” Draco had heard of MANA before. It was the governing body of wizards, witches and other magical creatures in this part of the world. The democratic nature of it was confusing to him, especially since it gave equal rights to non-human magical creatures.
Careful to keep his hood up, Draco went to the bookshop and purchased a copy of Daily Magic, the San Francisco paper. The shop took Muggle money as easily as Galleons and he noticed that the people here didn’t dress much different from those on Haight Street. Of course, people on Haight Street tended to dress in weird and colourful ways accepted in few places outside of San Francisco.
Draco took his paper and sat down on a bench in the square to read it. He knew better than to take the paper home with him. He didn’t want Harry to know he had been visiting the magical part of San Francisco. It was dangerous. But Draco felt it was important to know what was happening back in England. Reading between the lines of the Muggle papers just wasn’t enough.
He scanned the local news but quickly turned to the International section. MANA had closed its borders to wizards and witches from Great Britain months ago and now there was a big controversy over what to do with refugees from Voldemort’s reign. Illegal Portkeys and others seeking to circumvent visas were a big issue now, and there was a crackdown on them. He and Harry had been lucky to have gotten into the country when they did.
The news was grim. Voldemort’s regime was now accused of mass murder of Muggleborns, and other parts of Europe seemed to be coming under the Death Eater influence as well. MANA was still debating whether they should get involved. Draco knew that most the wizarding world believed Harry Potter was dead, but he was interested to read that there still existed an underground resistance movement that broadcast on the radio. He finished the paper with a sigh, dropping it into a nearby bin and made his way out of Norton’s Way.
[NOTE: M.A.N.A., Norton’s Way and other descriptions of the San Francisco magical world are 2007 copyright of Slashpervert. Please don’t use without permission, I do intend to use them again in other fiction.]