Gay Aurors

Draco sat at his dining table, mug of tea cooling, condensation swirling up out of the cup. His quill was poised over the parchment, gold key sitting next to it. He was forming the right words to write to Harry, words that he couldn't trust himself to express the right way aloud.

As cocksure as he liked to appear to the world, he was pants at really putting himself out there and being vulnerable. Some people were terrified of needles, feared failure, disliked heights-- Draco was afraid of rejection.

Harry hadn't given him any recent indication that he'd reject him. Quite the opposite, really, since he'd been nagging him about living with him. He still wasn't ready for that, but Draco wanted Harry to know that he was fully invested in this and that he did want him to be part of his life.

He knew himself too well, though, and if he just handed the key to Harry, he'd quip at him and try to make light of it and Harry wouldn't fully grasp what he meant and things would get awkward again. This would give Harry something to look at, something tangible, something he could read and know what Draco felt and that they were on their way somewhere.

Dear Harry,

I want you to have this key to my flat. I've adjusted the wards to let you in. I do want you as part of my life. I want you to feel welcome here. I don't know what the future holds for us and I can't make any promises, but I do love you and I think this is meant to be.

Pausing there, Draco set his quill down and took a sip of tea, trying to think of what all else he wanted to say. He read over the lines several times, noting how often he'd used "I" and sighing, wondering if he should start over when the door chimed.

Checking the clock, Draco noted Harry was half an hour early and frowned, deciding that this would have to do for his note, hoping it was enough, but figuring if Harry was going to be so presumptuous as to show up early, that he was going to have to live with what he got. He folded the parchment around the key, regretting that he didn't have time to package it up as nicely as he would've liked to, but maybe he should've started this the night before.

He shoved the package in his pocket and headed to the door, trying not to look too nervous. They were going to have a picnic in the park and then a movie-- a Muggle sort of day together-- which Draco normally would've balked at, but since Harry had gone to Charmings, he figured he owed it to him. Draco wasn't going to admit that he did sort of like Muggle movies, at least not to Harry. Or anyone.

The bell chimed again and Draco rolled his eyes. Harry really could be an impatient pest sometimes. He smiled to himself, finding it somewhat charming that he was that anxious to see him. He flicked his hair back and pulled open the door, brow perked.

"You're early-- wait... Lockhart?" Draco's brows furrowed at the appearance of the lilac pirate dandy standing in a puffcloud of his own glitter-smoke, beaming at him. "What do you want?"

The Dread Pirate Lockhart stood before him, his wand out and swishing before Draco could even reach his pocket. The lace flailed in the air as Draco's mind reeled with what the man wanted as he rocked back into his flat, determined that his wards wouldn't allow him to be kidnapped from his own home.

But that wasn't what Lockhart wanted at all.

Draco barely had time to feel the horror when he heard the spell.

"Obliviate."

Draco shrieked, slamming the door, but it was too late. The spell hit and Draco had no idea what he might've lost.

--

Harry arrived at Draco's flat a few minutes early. He was in a pair of Muggle jeans, tightly fitted, and a blousy white t-shirt, trying to fit in. He'd spend the whole night wondering whether he should bring Draco flowers or not. After all, he was a boy, but then, they were flowers. He felt like he'd had this conversation with himself several times. Wine was the thing now, wasn't it? Only it was an afternoon picnic and should he... By the time he'd not!sorted it out, he was in the lift up to Draco's flat. His cock was already getting hard. One of the other occupants of the lift noticed and gave Harry a wink. Another gestured that he'd give him his phone number.

At least he was looking hot, if these Muggles wanted him. They had no idea he was a hero and that gave him a little ego boost that he needed. He gave them a little extra arse wriggle on his way out of the lift when the doors rolled open and then fluffed his hair. If he looked that good, why not? The women giggled and carried on their way as Harry strutted to Malfoy's door.

Harry still didn't see the problem with Draco living with him, it certainly saved everyone a commute when getting to the hot sexing, but he was sure that if he ever put it that way in front of Draco that he'd be in Big Trouble.

As it was, Draco opened the door looking terribly confused and dressed like a Muggle, which seemed to add something surreal to the picture.

"Potter? What the shit are you doing here?" he asked, not offering Harry a way in.

Taking it as a playful challenge, Harry rocked up on his toes. "I managed quiche... sort of... and then I'm going to bugger you senseless behind the bushes at the park. Then, I thought after that, we'll go see a movie where I'll suck you off in the dark. Sound like a plan?"

Draco glared at him, and then sneered at his hamper while he took a few steps back. Harry missed the expression of wary indulgence and took the movement as an invitation in and walked in.

Draco stared at him as if he'd just farted. "Well come on in like you own the place, Potter."

That comment sent Harry to a loss. Was Draco really going to try to enforce boundaries right now? It didn't seem fair for Draco to pull this when they were having their second date and doing something Harry wanted to do, but then, that was just like Draco, wasn't it?

"Maybe someday I will," Harry retorted, turning around to face the door.

"Are you here on Ministry business? Because it looks an awful lot like you're having a picnic. With whom, I wonder... Maybe your Wheezy?"

Draco's smile was too smirky and too angry for this to be a game. Something was wrong with Draco.

"No, Draco, I'm here to take you out for a picnic as we agreed to last week," he said simply, but sternly, wondering what Draco was playing at.

"What are you playing at? 'Agreed to last week?'" asked Draco. "I've barely spoken to you, Potter. I've barely been back in London that long! I didn't agree to anything with you!"

Reaching into the hamper, Harry pulled out a small jug of pumpkin juice to show Draco, as if somehow that would prove he knew Draco well enough to know that he would want pumpkin juice. Not that it made much sense, but nothing really was. "I made you pumpkin juice, freshly squeezed!"

"That's poisoned, no doubt," said Draco, eyeing it with suspicion.

"Of course it isn't. I just... see, I know you like pumpkin juice," said Harry, trying not to be offended that Draco would think he wanted to poison him. Draco was obviously frustrated and confused, but it still hurt a bit.

"That's hardly original. A wizard who likes pumpkin juice! Who'd've thought of that one?" said Draco, his hands waving irritably. "It's not exactly personal, like my middle name."

Setting the hamper and thermos on the ledge of the half-wall entry way inside Draco's flat, Harry said, "Abraxas."

Draco eyed him and then tilted his chin up, sneering. "Or the name of my first pet."

"Ophelia," Harry answered, holding his stare.

"Or what kind of..."

"A wounded dove you found outside and you never had another pet after that aside from your owl who was more of a messenger than anything else," said Harry.

"PFFT!" said Draco before raking his hand through his hair.

Harry stared at Draco for a long time, waiting for him to balk, waiting for him to break character and laugh and say this was all a joke. But he didn't. They were left standing there staring at one another and Draco's eyes were dead of recognition but full of an angry confusion, edging in on frustration.

"You really don't remember... anything about..." me "your personal life, Draco?"

"I know you. I know I'm dating Kirley Duke. I know that I'm an Auror. I know that you and I have shagged a few times." He blushed at that and looked down and away and Harry thought it was terribly endearing. He reached out to stroke the side of Draco's face, but Draco recoiled.

"But we're... this is our second date, Draco," said Harry as easily as he could given that his heart had stopped and now he was running on pure adrenaline, hoping beyond hope that this was just a weird dream.

Furrowing his brows, he gave Harry a suspicious look, eyes in slits, curious. "I've never been on a date with you, Potter. Unless you're counting what we do at work for dating, but that's rather demented, don't you think?"

At least Draco wasn't fleeing in terror that Harry might bugger him, but this problem seemed to be so much bigger than just shagging.

He grabbed Draco's arm and steered him to the dining table behind the half wall and sat him down. Flipping open the hamper, he set out the quiche and thermoses and cheeses that Harry had brought to delight Draco on the picnic. Now he wished he'd thrown some firewhiskey in as well. Alas.

"Do you remember anything that happened recently?" asked Harry.

Draco made a face and then shrugged. "The last thing I remember is that Lockhart was at the door. I guess he mucked with my memory." He didn't look quite like he believed it yet, but as if things might make a bit more sense if that were true.

"Can't think of another reason for Lockhart to drop by, can you?" Harry asked as he got up to stand behind Draco to rub his temples. He didn't think that would work, but maybe it would jostle something loose. He had to at least try.

"I'm hot?"

Harry laughed. "Well, yes, there's that, but something tells me if that's the reason he stopped by, he would've taken his time about it. And if he'd've touched you, I would've killed him," said Harry, a little surprised that came out. Not that he would contradict it, but he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Oh Potter, I have better taste than that! He could be my father!" said Draco, nudging into the rubs.

"Not quite your father, but... right, obviously you were to forget something and since you don't remember that we were going on a picnic, we should talk about our relationship, see what you remember about that," said Harry as he took his seat next to Draco at the table.

"Relationship? A couple of on the job shags in the line of duty does not a relationship make." Draco sat forward, his expression petulant.

"I hate it when you talk backwards like Yoda," said Harry, leaning in to face him just as certainly. "Yes. You and I. After we closed down the Yakuza in Japan," said Harry patiently. "We were going to give it a go."

"I don't know any 'Yoda', was he a Hufflepuff?" asked Draco, looking around his flat. "So... you know about... Japan and the... what about Kirley?"

"Haven't heard from him lately. He did get cut up pretty badly. I think he's in Norway. They're trying to fix it there." This was hard already. He didn't know how much Draco remembered, but he didn't seem shocked that they'd had sex, so perhaps there was hope.

"Norway?" asked Draco.

"Yes, Norway has the finest team on breaking irreversible curses on the planet. He's making good progress I hear," said Harry, saddened that he was relating this news to Draco since the only reason he knew in the first place was because Draco told him..

Draco's body tensed under Harry's ministrations and Harry could tell that he wasn't taking any of this news very well. He was at a loss to tell him any different.

"It's what you told me," Harry protested.

"Who cut him, then? Was it you?" asked Draco. He looked up at Harry and though Harry knew that the accusation in his eyes was due to his loss of memory, it was getting to be far too much for Harry to deal with.

"No, it was Mifune," said Harry. He pulled his hands away and shoved them into his pockets. All of this left him horridly sad. As much as he thought maybe he should stay and try to explain things to Draco, he wasn't sure he could deal with it. Plus, the longer he delayed, the further away Gilderoy Lockhart could be. Not that he had even one clue on how to locate him or what Lockhart could do now that Draco's memory was gone, but Harry at least had to know why.

"Look, I'm... I'm going to go try to find Lockhart. You should stay here," said Harry, crossing to the other side of the table, ready to head for the door.

Draco jumped up, his hand already in his pocket, presumably reaching for his wand, but what he withdrew instead was a folded piece of parchment with Harry's name on it.

Quick as a flash, Harry snatched the parchment from Draco's hand, recognizing the writing and desperate for word from Draco. His Draco. The Draco who he thought loved him and not this one he would have to start over with again.

The package was oddly lumpy and his breath caught as he opened it, finding the gold key. He clutched it so tightly in his palm that it broke the skin, his other hand shaking as he held the note, reading it over and over again, feeling like his eyes might well up.

He didn't even notice that Draco had sidled up next to him to read the letter until Draco said, "That's my handwriting. It... I..."

Harry looked up at him, scanning from eye to eye for some glimpse of love or recognition in Draco's eyes, but all he saw was confusion and fear at first. Then he saw something flicker behind Draco's eyes. It wasn't memory, but it was a thought, space. Room for Harry, that space that he'd exploited before and would either have to fix or find again.

"It was meant to be, Draco, and I'll prove it to you somehow," said Harry. He jammed the key and note into his pocket and grabbed Draco's face, hands cupping his cheeks as he brought him in to kiss him deeply, feeling the brush of his lips and the late sweet taste of tea. Draco whimpered into his mouth, responding with light, curious flicks of his tongue. Harry held him tightly, wrapping his arms around him to hug him closer, possessively. Mine.

Then Harry pushed Draco back by the shoulders, feeling bolder, more assured that he could do this, that this would be fixed and set to rights. "You will wait here for me. I will figure something out. This was meant to be, Draco. I'll start over a thousand times with you if I have to, just as long as I'm with you, it'll be all right."

Draco still looked confused, but longing now and Harry released his shoulders. Harry headed to the door, pausing to look at him once more before trudging out to start casting locator spells.

Pirate or not, Harry would find Lockhart.

--

For a long while, Draco just stared at the door, remembering what Harry looked like walking out of it. The memories were no nearer to coming back than they had been a moment ago, but it all seemed so possible. So suddenly probable.

Draco had never given much thought to his rivalry with Harry, not really. He'd always chalked it up to competitiveness. He'd come to Hogwarts full of the idea that everyone would find him as perfect and special as his parents thought he was. In fact, meeting with the other Slytherin boys he'd known before had seemed to support that. Weasley wasn't impressed with him, but he never much cared about that. He'd never really been refused anything, or really been intimidated by anyone his age.

But then there was Potter, and Potter wasn't scared of him or his father. He didn't even seem to know who he was.

But all of this was history that he knew. He still checked over it, though, like you check over your back molars, feeling them to make sure they're there, and in their proper order after you've been punched in the jaw. Rivalry. But then, that rivalry didn't seem to matter much when his family was on the line, when he thought he was going to die. It didn't matter when he went to Japan or when he returned other than it gave a familiar rhythm to their interaction. At least, at first.

Brushing his fingers over his lips, Draco thought about what it was like to be kissed by Harry Potter. The need, the intensity. He was kissed by the boy who had spent hundreds of lonely nights in a cupboard, who needed to be loved with the fierce intensity of a man who has seen the end of the world and pushed it back, with the need of a boy who grew up without parents, without love, and yet somehow had so much in his heart that he needed to give, so much he needed back.

Draco found himself swept away and wondered if it had been this dizzying after the first time.

Because now, he really did believe he'd been in love with Harry. He could feel it down to his toes, which were still tingling from the kiss. His whole body had responded to it, was set on edge by the closeness. Harry's scent still lingered in the air, boyish and yet manly-- the boy he knew but so much more than that now, because they'd been seen and now they knew how little it mattered who played Quidditch first.

Weak-kneed, Draco flopped down into the chair by the table again, flicking his hair back before reaching into his robe for his mirror. He wasn't entirely sure what Harry was up to, but he bet that Harry didn't much know where to start. Harry didn't have connections like Draco did, and if anyone would know where Gilderoy Lockhart was, it would be Theodore Nott, Information Tradesman.

He flipped open the mirror and smiled into it. "Theodore? You said if I ever needed a favor... Are you quite all right?"

Draco heard sniffling and worried that Theo was coming down with something, but Theo didn't let him see his face. He heard the incantation to close one of Theo's screens on which he often watched people, but Theo's face did not show in his mirror. "Oh, Draco," said Theo wearily.

"Theo, do you need help? Are you all right?" asked Draco, setting aside his issues for the moment.

"Oh, Draco, Draco, Draco," he said, his voice Byronic and melodramatic as it ever was, but tinged with a much deeper sadness than Draco had heard from him. "I have wronged you."

He scanned his mind for what it was Theo could've done, but it wasn't any good when he couldn't remember about the past few months. "Right, well, I... that's the thing. I'm sure you were a Very Bad Boy and should be Punished, but right now I have sort of... well," Draco laughed nervously, "I don't really remember what you've done so let's just call it even for now, yeah?"

The other end of the mirror sobbed quietly, then moaned. He heard another long sniff and then heard, "Oh no, oh no, oh no, what have I done?"

Draco experienced that moment of breathless realization, of something so simply true, but so wrong that his mind rebelled, not wanting to believe it. Theo was his best mate in school, had been since he'd been marked and Draco saw just how completely useless Crabbe and Goyle were. He'd helped him along the way; at least, that's what he remembered. "What have you done, Theo?" asked Draco.

"Draco... Draco, Draco, Draco... why couldn't you have... you just... you never really saw me, did you? I wanted you so much and for so long and we... you... but you don't remember that, do you? I just... I had a mad moment, I wanted... I just wanted you to think about me. I wanted a chance," groused Theo. Draco heard a bottle hit the table and then the hiss of flame followed by an inhalation. He could practically smell the sweet smoke from Theo's calming herbs.

Theo was clever, he was a genius, in fact, but all of that knowledge had always seemed to torment him. Draco knew why Theo smoked, he knew that was how he coped with what life had thrown at him, but right now he really wanted to wring his neck through the mirrors to get a straight, non-addled answer out of him. "No, Theo, I do not remember a lot of things, evidently. Do you happen to know why?" Draco asked, his voice stern and tight.

There was another sob and Theo moaned, "Forgive me?"

"But why?" Draco wailed, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He was shaking all over, his body covered in a cold sweat. He wanted to be ill, but more than that, he wanted the answer to the question-- even if he thought he'd heard it already.

"I thought... I think so many mad things sometimes, you know," said Theo. Draco nodded, but as he couldn't see Theo, Theo couldn't see him. "I thought if you forgot about him, that you'd want me. I wanted you. I just wanted you to want me. Oh don't hate me, Draco!"

Draco's fingers curled forward and he balled his fists into his eyes, trying not to cry in frustration. He wanted to shriek and ask Theo how he could do such a thing, but he couldn't even form the words. He heard Theo sobbing again, the moving of bottle from the table, absinthe unless Theo's tastes had changed radically. "Where is Lockhart?" asked Draco when he finally gathered his wits back together.

"That fool couldn't tell you a thing about it. He knows how to steal but he doesn't know how to return," said Theo, his voice wavering and speech slurred.

Draco knew he was miserable but he had no desire to reach out to him to comfort him, but Theo didn't seem to expect that anyway. "Then how do I fix this?"

"I..." Theo exhaled and Draco heard the pipe clatter to the floor, shattering like his hopes. "I don't know. I'm sorry, Draco. I... I truly am. I don't know how... I can set up a research--"

Slamming the mirror closed, Draco cut off the conversation.

Theo didn't know.

Theo knew everything and he didn't know this, which meant it was most likely impossible. Draco grabbed the mirror and threw it across the room in frustration and glared that the mirror didn't even have the common sense to break.

After a beat, he stood and headed to the door. No sense in Harry finding Lockhart if it wasn't going to do much good anyway. He didn't know what he'd do after finding him. All he did know was that he needed to be near Harry and he needed to sort this out.

--

As he Apparated to the Ministry, Draco realized that if Harry had managed to locate Lockhart, he probably wouldn't have told anyone where he was going and most likely would throttle the man before he even got any answers. He started to get anxious that he might well be too late as he swiftly dashed through the corridors, robes billowing in a way that would've made Snape envious.

He had no idea what he'd say to Harry about the whole thing, he hadn't sorted it all out in his own head yet. He was angry, hurt and frustrated and yet, hearing Theo crying... Draco was a Slytherin, but he was far from heartless. Theo was brilliant, but mad, and Draco knew that, knew that Theo probably looked at the problem on paper and thought this was the most logical conclusion, but something in him wailed because he couldn't remember what all had transpired between he and Harry.

Even though Draco should have no way of knowing what it was he felt before, he had the feeling that it was immense and passionate. It had to be. They were both such big personalities and if he'd somehow managed to set aside their past, if they'd just ignored it all... and yet, what was there to ignore, really? In the grand scheme of his life, people had done worse to him that Harry had. Even at his worst, Harry's attempt on his life had turned out to be accidental, unlike Voldemort sending him on a suicide mission, or Mifune setting him up to take the fall for the Yakuza in Japan.

His pulse was racing by the time he got into the bullpen, and not just from how he'd fled here. He had the feeling that what he had with Potter was real, that it must have made him happy and somehow, even in his muddled mind, it almost felt as if they had willed it. They were two sides of the same coin-- both arrogant in their own ways, intense, powerful and always stalking one another. Even when he'd set aside his childish rivalry in their sixth year, Harry had picked the game right back up, following Draco and spying on him.

Secretly, Draco had been chuffed by the role reversal-- until it became such a huge inconvenience, anyway.

The bullpen was eerily quiet, as if a huge storm had rolled in, casting a dark cloud over the usually jovial and caustic room. Draco was tempted to ask who died until Harry hopped up from his desk, brows furrowed, green eyes practically glowing with fury. A few paper plane memos darted towards him until they got a sense of his aura, and then they flitted away to sit on his desk for later.

Harry's eyes widened when he saw Draco and before Draco could even say a word, Harry was on him, fingers digging into his biceps. "I thought you were staying home," Harry growled, obviously trying to contain himself and failing as the light guttered in the office.

In the face of this anger, Draco almost cowered. He'd seen Harry angry loads of times in school, but this was different. This was the anger and hurt and fury of heartbreak piled up on having someone clearly accountable for it. "Did you find Lockhart?" asked Draco, as if he weren't flinching in Harry's grip.

"I... well, I've a good lead on where he is," said Harry. Now he was avoiding Draco's eyes and Draco couldn't help but feel something for him, a flicker of thought like a vapor of the past, curling into his consciousness.

"I doubt he knows anything, Harry. He didn't know how to restore his own memories," said Draco. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Harry who the real culprit was, but Harry already looked so upset, so hurt. He wanted someone to blame and he had his scapegoat. Adding another wouldn't really help anyone.

Plus, he already felt guilty enough for not returning Theo's feelings in the least, and he had the feeling that at some points he'd probably led him on. He hated that he might've brought this on himself, but at the moment, he couldn't see another way around it.

"I think he remembers more than he lets on," Harry huffed, but he was diffusing with Draco there and Draco took the opportunity to wriggle away from his grabbing hands and, after a furtive look around the office to note that everyone was pointedly not looking at them, he slipped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him closer.

At first, Harry stiffened at the touch, but then melted into it, hiding his face against Draco's neck. Draco slipped a hand up to cradle the back of his head, caressing his fingers through the thick, wiry hair. It was familiar-not-familiar to the touch, and he puzzled over the not!memory, unsure of how he could place this, or if it needed placing beyond just experiencing. "You don't really believe that," Draco whispered against his ear and Harry shook his head in protest.

"You don't have to do this," Harry said after a few moments of holding Draco back, his arms so possessively around Draco that it took his breath away.

This was what it was like to be held by Harry Potter, to be needed this much. Draco pressed his cheek to Harry's temple, wondering if it was something simple like this that had made him fall in love with him in the first place. "I know I don't have to. I don't do most things because I have to. I'm still a Malfoy... right?"

The doubt in his voice inspired a bitter laugh from Harry, who pulled back and cupped Draco's face in his hands. He smiled, but his eyes were intensely focused. Never had Draco felt so completely owned, so needed and necessary to another person. He loved that for once he could feel indispensable to someone for something other than being a pawn.

Harry nodded. "Yes, you hadn't quite picked out a white wedding dress yet."

Before Draco could stop it, he said, "I think we both know I couldn't wear white."

He blushed then and Harry smiled, stroking his cheek, looking incredibly sad. "At least you remember that much. But look, I should follow up on this lead before the trail goes cold."

Harry started to move away from him, but Draco caught his hand and yanked him back, looking into his eyes. He didn't know what he wanted, only that he really didn't want Harry to go running off. Not right now. Not when he didn't know what he felt or why he felt these things.

"No. Stay. Stay with me," said Draco.

After looking at the exit, Harry looked back at Draco, the indecision clear on his face.

"Please, Harry. I don't know... I don't know how... but he won't have the answers. We both know that. I just don't want you to leave right now. Please?" Draco didn't think he'd said please that much ever, but then, he couldn't remember much about their sex life. He blushed a little, wondering if Harry made him beg. If anyone could...

The thoughts must've been written on his face, because Harry was blushing too, and he moved in closer, clearing his throat. "If you're going to look at me like that... you know I... okay, well, no, you probably don't know. But let's just say that if you want me to stay... that look's a good one to get me to." Harry shifted his weight to his other foot, looking almost coy after what he'd just said.

Draco flicked back his hair, well aware that he was flirting, and finding that it thrilled him to be flirting with Harry Potter, which he hadn't expected, but now that he was evidently retracing his steps, he didn't feel quite so slutty about it. "Maybe you should come home with me and find out what this look leads to."

As easy as that, Harry was sold on the idea of going back to Draco's flat. Draco had the feeling it probably wasn't quite that easy and that Harry might try to shag and run, but he'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

--

Draco could only barely remember how it came to this. At first they were walking through the Ministry corridors awkwardly, Draco trying to make a plan for what he could say and what he should say and things that he just didn't think would help Harry or anyone if he told. In that category was what Theo had done. Draco would have never given anyone else that kind of leeway, least of all another Slytherin, but he thought that perhaps Theo was just lonely and broken and would do better to just meet someone than be pummeled by Potter. All of the awkward thoughts and uncertain brushes of their hands ended when they stepped into the lift to get up to Draco's flat. Harry pushed him against the wall and kissed him deeply, passionately, claiming his tongue, his mouth. His hand slid down the curve of Draco's back and grabbed his arse.

In response, Draco's hips snapped forward, pressing his cock against Harry's greedily, even though he had no idea why he was so greedy about it. But suddenly, all he could think of was fucking Harry Potter, being inside of him, being part of him. Draco practically lunged at him, hooking a foot on the rail of the lift and pressing Harry's back against the mirrored steel behind them.

Harry seemed more than a little surprised by this reaction, but he was loath to turn down sex of any stripe. He unbuttoned Draco's robes, tearing a few of the fussy buttons but he didn't seem to care about that. Not even Draco cared about his couture getting mucked up. What he wanted was a taste of the future, a taste of his past-- a taste of Harry Potter.

He knew that he had theoretically done this before, but the only memories he really had of it now were vague. He wasn't sure if that was to do with the spell or if he was just trying to forget it. Not that it mattered, not that he cared when Harry shoved his hand between the fabric and slipped them through, teasing his cock just the way he liked.

Harry had one hand around his cock; the other was above the head of his prick. Draco loved that, loved how Harry took the initiative to rub his balls as well and he wondered where he'd learned it, except... The whole thing was too sad to deal with right now, particularly since Harry had caught his breath and slammed Draco to the other side of the wall, holding his arms up over his head as he kissed and nipped down his neck and down his chest. Harry was on his knees and Draco was starting to beg when the doors dinged and rolled open.

They were on Draco's floor and Draco was so lost in kissing Harry, in feeling him rubbing against him that all he wanted to do was to get into bed and shrug off his clothes.

Draco was mostly undressed by the time the got through the doors, somehow disarming the wards but then... he remembered Harry had a key. Wards were down for him. Right.

Harry pushed him through the entryway, past the open kitchen and into his bedroom. Draco was down on his back on the bed before he could even remember to ask his guest if he wanted a drink. It was all right, it was pretty obvious that a drink wasn't what Harry was there for. Harry was there for him, to feel this-- something that he'd probably done so many times before only now, Draco didn't remember.

Wriggling out of the fabric, Draco brought his arm up to cover his face, spreading his legs for Harry to take him.

"Don't even remember me and you've still got a greedy little hole that wants me, don't you?" asked Harry. Draco heard Harry's clothes rustling as he undressed. He was glad he'd covered his face, because the blush that would have occurred at seeing Harry Potter starkers would've killed him.

"We did this... like this?" asked Draco, brows furrowed. Not that he thought this was a bad thing, he'd just expected different of Harry.

"No, it's not really how we did it. It's..." Harry didn't finish the sentence. Instead he was rifling through Draco's nightstand till he found the tube of lubricant. He smeared the lubricant over his fingers and while Draco remembered rationally that he'd had sex before, he wasn't sure he was mentally prepared for it now.

Either way, Harry's prick was rubbing against his hole, teasing him. It was so warm and slick and it felt big. Not huge in a crazy sense, but bigger than he thought it would be. He held his breath as Harry entered him, feeling every inch of Harry's cock sliding into him, feeling all of the things Harry wanted him to feel: sprawled out, clenched around him, like he was being forced to make space for Harry in his body the way he knew Harry wanted him to make space for him in his life.

Harry stretched out over him, pressing their chests together and continued to ease into him, slowly relaxing to a comfortable pace of deep fucking. Draco stretched his arms out, fisting the sheets and Harry's fingers twined with Draco's, giving the impression that Harry wanted to share this pain, to feel this with him.

Draco pushed back as best he could, but Harry was so deep inside of him, touching Draco in places he couldn't remember ever being touched by anyone or anything. It felt like he was deeper inside of him than he had been during their random work fucks. Harry pushed Draco's leg up, folding him in half, asserting that it would feel better at this angle.

Draco allowed it, finding the pressure both incredibly thrilling and painful. The feeling overwhelmed Draco, making him believe that Harry was a being of love, beautiful. His mate. His soul mate. Draco gave himself over to it, ignoring the sounds of their sex to concentrate on how this felt. Harry was fucking him hard and he had the idea he hadn't always been this passionate or needy with him before this.

As much as Draco wanted to say something to Harry, he couldn't catch his breath to speak, let alone put anything important into words, so he remained quiet, pushing back against him, feeling warm, unusually warm, like he was becoming something else-- an ancient form. He glowed that way for a few minutes until he came, Harry still driving into him. It felt wild and wicked, something feral being let loose inside of him as wave after wave of the sensation hit him. His muscles tensed and pushed out his release between them and when he opened his eyes, he saw everything with such utter clarity that he knew he'd changed into that thing.

Though he was burning with shame at the creature he'd morphed into, everything was now in sharp focus. The shadows spoke whispers and echoes of past involvements played out before him-- Mifune-- Japan-- Pirates-- Bubbles-- Kirley Duke-- Glam rock-- Not!Granger and Ron's braces. He looked down at the way his arm was glowing, knowing that his eyes must've turned that milky color, his hair must be silver and Harry was seeing it all spread out below him. As embarrassed as he was for what he looked like, as exposed as he felt, he was suddenly incredibly grateful for what he was.

Memories flooded into his mind, because magic didn't affect magical creatures, and now that Harry had unleashed the Veela part of him, the memories that part of him held were coming back like the falling rain of a second consciousness. Draco wanted to hide this form, but when he chanced a glance at Harry and saw him gazing back down at him, he saw nothing but love and admiration. Draco felt accepted, and perhaps, just a little bit, that Harry's a bit of a pervert for liking his not quite human side.

Then he felt that cold, final question, the burden of Harry wanting to live with him and him wanting it so much, but being far too scared to really take it. Draco didn't want to move things along too quickly. He wanted to slow it down, to really find himself, and yet, due to events beyond his control, he'd rather dramatically lost himself.

Harry was coming inside of him and Draco clung to him, scratching his back, feeling himself returning to his own body and his own mind and the way that the memories fitted themselves back into his mental timeline, like puzzle pieces found under a couch that finally complete the picture.

Draco sighed in bliss as Harry flopped on top of him and stroked his silky back, still going over each part of what he knew now, checking for faults or weaknesses as Harry caught his breath.

"All right, Draco?" Harry asked against his neck.

Draco stroked the back of his head, smiling. "Better than all right."

"I sort of... well, I mean, I don't mean to be cocky but I saw you um... well..." Harry stuttered.

Draco smiled slightly, pleased that Harry had sense enough to realize that the Veela part of him made him uncomfortable, even if it was what Wizardkind considered an "acceptable" bestial conversion. "Became a frightening animal?"

"You're not an animal. You're human, it's just... a bonus," said Harry.

"Kinky bugger!" said Draco as Harry rolled off of him and Draco rolled onto his side so they could tangle up together. "Did you do it on purpose?"

"Erm..." said Harry, looking shiftily like he didn't know what Draco might be talking about, "I didn't slip and fall into your arse, if that's what you mean."

Draco laughed and rolled his eyes. "No, I mean... were you that rough so that I'd... so that would happen?"

"I... er... well... why do you ask?"

Harry was being cagey and Draco shook his head. The boy was lucky, if nothing else. He could see now how Harry had survived all of those years with Death Eaters and Voldemort after him. He just followed his instincts and it led him to the right place. This time, Draco benefited. "Because magic doesn't affect magical creatures," said Draco meaningfully.

He watched the realization dawn on Harry's face and turn to elation and Draco thought it was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "Oh! So you..."

"Remember everything," said Draco, smiling as he caressed Harry's cheek.

"I'm still going to kick Lockhart's arse," said Harry. Draco sighed, wondering if he should try and explain, but he was far too weary to really get into it. He wanted to revel in the feeling of knowing, and this brilliant afterglow.

"Yes, well, I don't see the point, really. There are other things to get on with," said Draco, smoothing back Harry's hair.

"What if he tries to do it again? We have to find the reason for this and make him pay for it. He can't be running around kidnapping people from foreign lands and putting them in underwater bubbles. We also can't tolerate him showing up at Auror's flats and erasing their memories for no good reason!" said Harry. His impassioned speech had caused him to flush with righteous indignation.

Draco really didn't know what to say to it, and part of him still felt protective of Theo and his feelings, even if he didn't return them. He was at a loss until inspiration hit.

"We're going to be busy for a while moving my things into Grimmauld, I'd expect. Then one of us will probably have to find a new job..." said Draco.

"WHAT?" Harry sat up on his knees, his eyes wide, hair jumbled and glasses still slightly foggy on his face. "Really?"

"It would be safer," Draco reasoned. He further reasoned that if he lived with Harry, Theo couldn't watch them and get jealous. Grimmauld was Unplottable. "And, I did live there before. And... Lockhart couldn't get at me there, so there wouldn't be a huge rush..."

Harry looked at him expectantly. "And you love me?"

Draco grabbed Harry by the waist and pulled him back down on top of him. "I love you very much." He was a little worried on how this would work out in reality, but then, he was very much in love with Harry and Harry in love with him and their one twu lub was trufax according to the Sleeping Beauty hex, so... "And I want to live with you."

When Harry was so beside himself with joy that he wriggled and pressed kisses all over Draco's face, Draco felt a sudden and complete calm. This was the right decision. This would make them both happy. He hoped.

It wasn't going to make Kingsley happy, that was for sure.

Or Theodore.

Or... all of the screaming heterosexual fans of Harry Potter.

Stuff 'em.

"You want to live with me," said Harry, like it was a revelation. He beamed and pushed Draco's hair back, gazing into his eyes. "It'll be like we're family."

Something in Draco melted at that phrase, because he was an orphan now, too. He nodded and smiled. "Yeah, like family."

"I love you, Draco," said Harry.

Draco smirked. "You're such a girl, Potter, I swear!"

Without hesitation, Harry had grabbed Draco's arm and pulled it up behind him, manhandling Draco onto his stomach. Draco whined and pouted into his pillow. Harry didn't have his arm up enough for it to really hurt, but Draco got the message. "Fine, fine, I love you, too, Potter."

Draco felt his arm pulled up and his shoulder twinged.

"What was that?" asked Harry.

"I love you too, Harry!" he said loudly into his pillow.

"That's what I thought." Harry rolled off of him and flopped onto the bed next to Draco again. "Git."

"Half-blood," said Draco as he rolled over and nursed his arm.

"Ickle Baby." Harry reached across to rub Draco's shoulder and pulled him closer. "You'll live with me and I can take care of you."

Draco cuddled in against his chest. "You'd better take care of me if you're going to be abusive, you brute."

He felt Harry's laughing and sighed contentedly. They were going to live together. For real this time. He had no idea what he was going to say to the Ministry about it, but he could figure that out later. Right now, he was just going to enjoy this.


--

For now, this is the last. There might be another season, but I'm going to set this aside as a good stopping place and see what all happens with new canon. Thanks everyone for reading and with any luck, something like this will be back!