Broken Toy

Warnings: Language, smut, just NC17
Author's Notes:
Got some time on your hands? *g* I fear this chapter is a mega-chapter. It could have been well divided into two chaps. But then I would have been forced to leave you with a cliff-hanger, and of course I’d never do that! *winks*

I had three days off (YAI) and instead of dealing with several tasks that are overdue I was glued to the computer *blushes*

So… Enjoy the next part. I’m a little bit excited if I explained some things that were overdue to explain plausible. Have fun!!!


Chapter Sixteen

Draco got himself a complete new hairstyle about two hours later. Instead of being neat and straight, the hair seemed to be more untidy than before, but that was the way it was meant to be, and it was very en vogue, the barber assured them. Draco was just the right young man for such a hairstyle, it was very becoming on him, extraordinarily so!

Draco had to agree. He looked different, but he liked the way his hair was cut in layers and his fringe fell loosely onto his forehead. That’s what Harry wanted, wasn’t it? Draco looking a bit more unconstrained? Draco couldn’t get enough of the unfamiliar image of himself. But he was pleased with what he saw; very pleased, in fact. Finally Harry had to drag him away from the mirror, muttering under his breath something about narcissistic dudes.

The shopping was a success, too. Draco agreed to black jeans and two jean jackets, one in denim, one in black. Without any complaint, he put on several T-Shirts Harry had selected. He even accepted black shorts, because each time he tried something on, he had another chance to admire his new cool self in the mirror.

Feeling at total ease with himself, Draco persuaded Harry to try on black leather pants and a loose-cut white shirt. Harry only gave in when Draco promised to wear the same outfit.

“But it is too tight!” Harry looked down at himself, touching his bum uncertainly, his face holding an expression of discomfort and unease. Draco warned the shop assistant with just one fierce stare, whereupon the smart salesman hastened to confirm Draco’s repeated statements that the pants looked very loose-fitting indeed. That was the way with leather, it felt that way.

To complete the casual outfit, Draco talked Harry into a leather jacket for each of them. He was only satisfied when he could convince Harry that he definitely needed one or two suits; something decent for the more formal occasions. It was about time to teach Harry some lessons regarding taste… Draco didn’t care what clothes both were wearing when they were at home, but in company they should certainly attach more importance to their appearance.

They were on their way towards the cashier; the shop assistant burdened with a huge heap of clothes already ahead. Half amused, half contemptuously Draco pondered if the assistant was hurrying this fast because he was afraid they might think twice about the bulk purchase if they lingered another minute longer. Harry suddenly stopped dead in his pace, and Draco walked right into his back.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry.” Harry reached up apologetically for Draco’s arm. Hesitantly he added, “I don’t want to offend you in any way, but… I would like to buy you something. Clothes are so ordinary. Isn’t there anything else you’d like to have? Something special? It’s just.... when I grew up I didn’t have anything; neither money nor anything else I could have shared with anybody. And it’s so much fun to give, you know? Will… will you let me? Please?”

Draco was thoughtful for a moment. Then he grinned. “Yes, there is something.”

“Yes?” Harry was enthusiastic. “What is it? Tell me!”

“Hm…” Draco let his gaze run down Harry’s body and let it rest on his crotch. Then he looked up directly into Harry’s eyes and made his wish with his face as earnest as possible, “A long, red, silk ribbon.”

Harry puckered his brow; and not understanding at all, he shook his head, “But, pardon me, that’s far from what I would call a special gift! A ribbon. What for? I mean, your hair’s too short for a ribbon now. Did you forget?”

Draco’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “A silk ribbon isn’t anything special? That’s what you think! The ribbon itself may be boring, you’re right. But if there’s a nice bow tied around your balls and your hot stiff member, it will be very special to me!”

“You...” Harry gasped. With satisfaction Draco watched his face turn pink.

“And?” Draco drawled. “Will I get my present or was it just idle talk?”

Harry scratched his neck. Draco liked to see him embarrassed like this.

“You don’t really mean it, do you?” Harry nervously licked his lips.

Draco just raised his eyebrows.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, I really can’t!” Harry stomped off to search for a red ribbon, his face a dark crimson.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After a light and enjoyable lunch they strolled down the streets of London. The appointed meeting at the Headquarters of the Ministry of Magic was scheduled for 2 pm, and they arrived there about fifteen minutes too early.

“Err, we’ve got to enter by…”

“Yes, the visitor’s entrance, I KNOW.” Draco’s answer was a little bit too vigorous. He didn’t want to show the annoyance he felt not entering as a wizard.

They folded their bodies inside the telephone booth and, after being admitted as visitors, descended towards the Atrium. Neither of them felt the urge to speak.

When they got out of the booth, Harry cleared his throat. “Err, we don’t need any wand-weighing and no visitor’s badge. I mean…” His voice was getting more resolute. “I don’t need any of that crap and no company of mine does, either.” He grabbed Draco by his elbow and pushed him towards the lift. Harry’s bag pressed into his side, and Draco was reminded of all the wonderful, now magically shrunken clothes inside there. Draco was glad Harry had urged him to get another cloak at the shop; this way he didn’t stick out walking through the masses of cloaked witches and wizards heading through the Atrium.

They got to the second level far too fast, in Draco’s opinion. After the diversions of the morning reality hit him like a shock. All at once he remembered his last visit to the Ministry. Accused of high treason, convicted, laughed at, deprived of his status as a wizard, dispossessed of his rights due to heritage and his name, evicted, expelled and cast out. Here was where he had lost everything he had ever cared for.

“Draco? There’s something I’ve got to tell you before we meet the others…”

Whatever would this be? Draco felt far too numb to care. However, he faced Harry with faked interest.

“I don’t know if you are acquainted with the organisation of the Magical Law Enforcement Department.” Draco shook his head.

“It’s divided into the Squad; you know all about that by now…“ Draco nodded his consent. “…and into the Magical Office of Law. The Honourable Judge Callidus runs it, old but very capable, by the way. Well, and the upcoming meeting will be moderated by the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement.”

“And the head of the Magical Law Enforcement is…?” Draco managed to ask, although he was sure he knew the answer.

“Well, Honourable Senilius Bones. Which means…”

“… that you are running the whole fucking Department.“ Draco finished faintly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco tried to digest the new information as they reached the hallway leading to the conference room. So Harry had had it all in his hands all along? With the influence and authority of the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement, he surely could have managed things out nicely, at least to restore his reputation. Merlin’s beard, Harry could have used his power to bully the responsible people. And if this didn’t work, he was wealthy enough to bribe them! Instead he hadn’t lifted a single finger. And Draco had let Harry fuck him. FUCK HIM. He must have been out of his mind!

In front of the conference room a couple broke their embrace abruptly. Ron and Hermione Weasley.

Ron turned his hostile eyes directly at Draco. “What is he doing here???”

“Ron…,” the Mudblood tried to silence him.

Draco could have puked when Harry –for the umpteenth time – stood in front of him and shielded him with his body. “It should be obvious, Ron. Draco is accompanying me.”

“How can you dare to bring him here? How can you dare to value this peace of shit more than MY SISTER? He is disgusting, and you are disgusting, and WHAT YOU ARE DOING IS DISGUSTING!” Ron pushed Hermione’s hands away, standing in front of Harry with his fists clenched.

“Ginny is crying her eyes out! SHE LOVES YOU, did you forget? Ever since she was a little girl she’s adored the ground you walk on, you perverted sod. She would give her life for you, and you treated her LIKE SCUM!!!” Ron’s face was flushed with rage; sprays of spittle were accompanying every word he spewed out. Draco could see the muscles of Harry’s neck tightening. “As you treated MY BROTHERS LIKE SCUM. And WHY?”

“Ronald!” Hermione reached for his arm, but Ron shook her hand off again. His contorted features expressed nothing but pure repulsion. Harry’s intakes of breath seemed far too deep and controlled for Draco’s taste.

“Since when do you like to be fucked, Harry? Tell me! Since when do you fancy being bottomed? Since when are you MALFOY’S FUCKING WHORE???”

Hermione shrieked, but nobody noticed.

All of them were staring at Harry’s hand. His outstretched index finger was aiming directly at Ron’s heart.

Several seconds in total silence followed.

Then Harry spoke with an amazingly soft voice.

“I can accept that you want to insult me. I can even accept that you hate me for turning your sister down. But I can’t accept that you never really asked the reason why.”

Harry folded his arms in front of his chest. Draco had to strengthen his ears to understand Harry’s next words.

“I thought you were my friend. ”

Ron sneered contemptuously and let his gaze run over Harry’s body as if he had never seen him before.

Harry turned around slowly and deliberately exposed his vulnerable back to the fuming redhead. Draco’s stomach cramped when he looked into Harry’s face. He could identify deep disappointment by the trembling of Harry’s mouth, but it was the expression of utter loneliness in Harry’s eyes that made Draco want to jump at Ron the very next minute. Before he could even think about it coherently, Harry grabbed for his arm and continued in this maddening soft voice.

“I strongly recommend that you leave now.”

Ron spat out derisively and turned on his heels. The sound of his angry steps pounding upon the stone floor was audible for quite a long time.

Harry stared at Draco’s Adam’s apple until the sound had died away, immovable like a statue. Then he squared his shoulders, raised his chin up determinedly and turned around again.

“Hermione?”

A single tear fell from the girl’s eye. Gritting her teeth, she looked into the direction where her husband had disappeared, then back at Harry.

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Fine.”

“Yeah.”

Harry moved over and laid one arm loosely around her shoulder. She flew into his arms and buried her head deep into the folds of his robes.

Had Draco imagined it or had Harry, when he walked over towards Hermione, deliberately stepped right into the yellow spittle Ron had left? And had he ground it into the floor with his shoe?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He wasn’t welcomed.

Draco realized it the very minute he stepped into the conference room. It didn’t matter that Harry had laid his hand upon his back in a reassuring way as they approached the group of people chatting amiably; Draco still felt unwanted.

Hermione walked over to take her place directly beside a dignified old man and started to converse with him in low tones.

Harry steered Draco right into the midst of the group; the soft pressure of his knuckles on Draco’s back didn’t allow him to linger behind.

The sound of voices died down abruptly. Draco wished to be anywhere but here. Even the Restricted Corner would have been welcomed.

All eyes were set on him.

He tried to look at everybody in turn. A few faces were familiar. Sitara Patil, Minister of Magic. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head of the Auror Office. Dedalus Diggle, Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Hestia Jones, Head of the Department of Magical Transportation. Ernie Macmillan. Dennis Creevey. The other four wizards Draco didn’t know.

Why the fuck hadn’t Harry informed him about the importance of the meeting? It seemed that all the biggies of the Ministry had assembled, and it looked as if all of them had one thing in common: they regarded him with pure contempt.

Draco felt cold when Harry’s hand disappeared from behind his back and greeted everybody with a friendly handshake and a warm welcome. Nobody felt the necessity to shake Draco’s outstretched hand. Why didn’t Harry notice that? How could he still smile this amiably?

“Minister, ladies and gentlemen, I’m more than pleased that you were able to keep this appointment.”

Who was talking? This couldn’t be Harry? This couldn’t be the shy guy who wasn’t able to talk in complete sentences and blushed every time Draco made a juicy remark about his genitals?

”It was scheduled on short notice and I’m well aware that it may have been difficult for you all to attend. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Draco wasn’t hallucinating. It was Harry with the red ribbon in his bag who was addressing the big bosses. And they were beaming back at him, without exception.

“However, as you will agree, it was necessary. We’ve got a problem. Right at the moment, the Auror Office isn’t able to solve it. We’ve got to join our skills and find a solution. The situation at the so called Restricted Corner is getting out of hand!”

The highly decorated witches and wizards nodded their consent.

Harry had lied to him. He wasn’t in charge of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He ran the whole Ministry.

“I suggest we start right away. Please be seated.” Harry pointed towards the large table.

“Just a minute, Mr Potter.” The deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt put in. “The meeting is meant to be confidential. Why is this person present?”

This person was, of course, Draco. Again he felt the eyes of all people present resting on him. The hostility was noticeable. It felt as if a wall of pure disgust had closed around him. It was hard to breathe and it was hard to stand up with his shoulders straight. His knees were trembling involuntarily.

Encouraged by Shacklebolt’s remark, suddenly everybody was talking at once.

“I agree, Mr Potter, it’s…” – “You see, he is an outsider.” - “We know all about him, he is Lucius Malfoy’s….” – “This is a matter of greatest importance and no one except us should…“ – “… isn’t one of us…” - “If I remember correctly, there was a conviction…” - “… isn’t even a wizard…” – “Wasn’t he at the Restricted Corner, too?” – “I’m sorry, but I don’t think it is wise to…” – “…and send him out…” – “I strongly recommend…”

Harry didn’t have to raise his voice to stop the comments. In fact, he didn’t have to say anything at all. He just held up his hand, and everybody fell silent.

Harry’s voice was low but very clear when he spoke to the group.

“First: It’s not “he” or “him”, his name is Draco Malfoy. I would appreciate it very much if you addressed him as “Mr Malfoy” . Thank you.”

Draco wished for a little hole in the wall where he could hide. He couldn’t stand being stared at any longer.

“Second. I had the idea of inviting Mr Malfoy to attend our meeting only this morning, so there wasn’t any time to notify you. Very probably he will be able to give us some valuable insider information.” Harry cast a quick sidelong glance towards Draco, pleading with him to not deny his statement.

“Third. Mr Malfoy is my friend. We share a partnership on the basis of mutual trust. I guarantee his integrity.” Harry didn’t blush nor did he stammer. Draco almost fainted. We share a partnership. Had Harry or hadn’t he declared in front of the Ministry that he was engaged in a gay relationship?

“Any questions?” The tone of Harry’s voice never altered. It was cool and efficient, and it was obvious who was in charge.

There weren’t any questions.

“Thank you very much. – So we can proceed. Please get seated.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After half an hour the group was informed about the status of the situation. The aggrieved persons, right along with their Wrongdoers, had been moved yesterday into one of the hotels the Ministry possessed on the outskirts of London. Draco had to grin about the fact that everybody avoided the terms ‘whores and pimps’. Aggrieved persons and Wrongdoers, honestly.

The move had presented no problem, as both parties hadn’t been seperated. Of course they inhabited different rooms in the hotel. The Wrongdoers were guarded by two Aurors each to ensure no harm could be done and of course, to prevent an escape.

Still the Aggrieved weren’t able to leave the Wrongdoers. Due to the contract, the Owner was able to assign the whereabouts of the Possession. Although being persuaded by the Auror Office, the Wrongdoers had refused to allow the Aggrieved to go wherever they wanted to. They continued to insist upon their rights because of the contract. They owned the Possessions, and didn’t intend to give up what was theirs.

There wasn’t any solution how to break the contract, either. Every spell known to wizardkind had been tried out, but the parchment remained unscathed.

“Hm, wait a minute…” Harry mused, when Kingsley Shacklebolt had finished his report so far. “Maybe we’re misled. I just had an idea… What if it’s got nothing to do with the contract? I mean, with the parchment itself?”

The others stared at him, not understanding at all what Harry was talking about, but they were too courteous to press him for further explanations.

Harry scratched his neck, deep in thought. “What exactly happened when the contract was concluded? I mean the actual act of it… Was it just signing it? Or were there vows going along with it?”

“We don’t know.” Shacklebolt admitted.

“Then I recommend further investigation.” Harry said pleasantly.

“We did!” Shacklebolt hastened to defend his office. “We already asked every Aggrieved. But it’s strange. All the answers we got were the same. They all remember the fact that the contract was being laid out in front of them. And all agree that a third person was present at that time…”

“Pickles…” Harry murmured.

“…but nobody can remember actually signing the contract. And nobody can remember who the third person was. Of course we interrogated the Wrongdoers, too. We even tried out Veritaserum. No success. And as nobody can remember, it seems to be obvious that…”

“…somebody Obliviated them all.” Harry interrupted. “Pickles wanted to be clever, huh?” Excited, Harry got out of his seat. “That’s it. There has to be something, some spell, which makes the contract unbreakable.” Harry started to pace the room. “And this Pickles-guy seems to be behind it all…” Harry stopped pacing and addressed Shacklebolt. “By the way, did you find out anything about him?”

“No.” The answer made Harry continue his march through the room. Draco was sure he had heard a “Fuck” under his breath when he passed by.

“We’ve got three Aurors working on him, Mr Potter,” Shacklebolt stated, being on the defence again. “We showed around the picture you delivered to us. Nobody seems to know him. We weren’t able to trace his origins. A person with that name simply doesn’t exist! It must be fake. We really…”

“Okay!” Harry had stopped his march again. Angrily he ran his hand through his hair. Draco was tempted to get up and flatten the strands that were standing up on the left side of his head.

“Never mind… Your office did everything possible, I know. Thank you.” Harry’s face was grim. Then he grinned tauntingly. “Pickles really wants to be clever, huh? But he forgot about something.”

Harry walked up towards Draco’s chair and stood behind him. “It seems that he forgot Mr Malfoy.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For the umpteenth time Draco wished for a place to hide. He felt heat rising slowly to his face. He didn’t want to be stared at! He detested being stared at! And what the hell did Harry want of him?

Harry had taken his seat beside him again. “Draco, can you remember anything about the signing of the contract?”

“Err, no.” Draco was annoyed that his voice came out this low.

“Nothing? It doesn’t matter what it is. Any small detail may help! Did he cough, did he scratch his nose, did he say anything?” Harry had moved closer to him, his hands outstretched.

“I’m sorry, no. He read the contract aloud, laid it on the table, and we both signed. That was it.” Draco shuddered slightly. The only thing he was able to remember was that he had felt extremely miserable, alone and betrayed. He knew he was giving up his freedom and soul and there wasn’t anything or anybody to prevent it. It had been one of the blackest days in his life.

“Ah, but it was quite some time ago, wasn’t it? - Sorry.” Harry squeezed Draco’s hand quickly. Draco understood at once that Harry hadn’t intended to stress the point of how many desolate years Draco had spend at the Restricted Corner.

“It doesn’t matter if you can remember any detail or not. The most important thing is that you can remember at all. See?”

Draco didn’t see at all, but he wasn’t able to think about it, for he was diverted by eager exclamations. He looked around flabbergasted. He was still in the center of interest; but he was too stunned to be annoyed about the fact. Instead of eying him like some rare insect, everybody was now beaming down at him. Even the Minister cast him an encouraging smile.

“This is our chance!” Harry’s voice brought Draco back to reality. “If you agree, we can extract your memory at once and analyze it. What do you say?”

“What?” Was all Draco managed to say.

“The Pensieve, Draco! You just have to think about the incident, and we… I will be able to extract that particular memory. We will then deposit the memory in the Pensieve and can watch Pickles from all angles.”

Draco didn’t know what to say. He registered that Harry was holding his hand in his but the significance of the act didn’t reach his brain. All he could think of was the horrible image of cold eyes analyzing every move he had made at the moment of complete defeat. What if he had cried when he signed the damn parchment? What if he…

“You trust me, don’t you, Draco?” Draco looked up and was lost in the intense, almost hypnotic stare of those irresistible emerald eyes. He nodded without thinking twice.

“I will extract your memory. And it will be me who is the first to check your memory. Any move you made which I feel you may consider as being humiliating if seen by an outsider I will disguise with the Disillusionment Charm. Do you trust me enough to be sure I can do this?” Draco kept on staring into those bright green eyes. “Or, if you want to, we will enter your memory together and you tell me what…”

“NO!” Draco was shocked by his own vehement outcry. “No,” he repeated in a more moderate volume. He didn’t want to witness a scene he was thankful he had eliminated from his conscious mind. His vivid nightmares were extensive enough; he didn’t have the desire to add the image of his own beaten self.

“It’s all right if you check the memory first. What do I have to do?” Draco’s words sounded braver than he actually felt.

“Thank you.” Harry’s eyes caressed Draco’s face when he mouthed his response.

Only when Harry withdrew his hands did Draco realize Harry had been holding them the whole time.

“Will somebody be so kind to fetch the Pensieve out of my office? Ernie, perhaps? Thank you.” Harry took out his wand and turned to Draco again.

“It won’t hurt…” Harry’s voice was gentle. “You won’t feel anything. Only last week I did it myself. To get a picture of Pickles, see? I isolated the memory of Pickles and Colin Creevey took a shot of him so we had something to show around. Not that it helped in any way…”

Draco’s heart was beating fast when Harry pointed his wand at his forehead.

“So… Just think of signing the contract. Okay? Just think about it… NOW.”

Draco did as commanded. The image of him sitting in the dark room, holding the contract in his hand, flashed through his mind. Harry had been right. He didn’t feel anything when a silvery, gas-like substance emerged from his forehead and followed the direction Harry was indicating with his wand, right into the flask Hermione had been holding at the ready.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco had held his breath until Harry surfaced out of the Pensieve again. His face was ash-grey, his eyes were darker than usual and his mouth was pressed together into a thin line. Whatever he had seen in Draco’s memory; it had made him angry.

Nobody spoke until Harry had settled down in his chair again.

“Okay.” Harry hit his open palm on the table. Ignoring the rattling of the water bottles he had caused, Harry barked, “He indeed said something. When this excuse of a human being signed the contract, he mumbled it: Possessio Sempra.”

“Possessio Sempra?” Hermione was the first to react.

“Does that mean anything to you, Mione?” Harry’s eyes searched for hers. Anticipation let his hand clench into a fist.

“No, I’m sorry. No.”

“DAMN!” Harry’s fist flew down to the table. Some of the bottles toppled over when the furniture shook with the impact of the violent blow.

Seconds which felt like hours went by in utter silence.

“So… You know what you’ve got to do now, right? Shacklebolt? Callidus? Hermione?” Harry’s voice sounded amazingly calm. “I want to know all about that spell. And I want to know it not later than yesterday. Is this all right by you, Madam Patil?”

The Minister of Magic nodded her head in consent. And, due to her status, she felt obliged to add, “I want to thank all of you for the incredible work you are doing. I know we all have been under some stress lately, but I’m confident that we will manage. Thank you again for your work, and keep on!”

A hearty applause followed her speech; then the wizards and witches stood up to assemble in little groups, lively discussing the recent events.

“Let’s go.” Harry nudged Draco’s shoulder lightly and muttered under his breath. “I’ve got to get out of here. I need some fresh air.”

Draco got up at once. He was worried about the worn out look on Harry’s face, but moreso he was worried about his future. He had to admit that he had accompanied Harry to this meeting with the idiotic expectation something would change. There had been a small ray of hope that he would get his freedom back. But now it seemed that it was farther away than ever before.

And all they could do was talk! Instead of rushing out to search for a solution they preferred to discuss things first. But, of course, they never had been forced to sell their bodies and souls in order to survive.

Draco felt the urgent need to kick something.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They almost had made it to the door when Hermione caught up with them.

“Harry? About the research work you asked me to do…” Hermione’s eyes shot in Draco’s direction, then moved on quickly towards the group of wizards and witches still engaged in their agitated debate. “I suggest we’d better discuss what I found out so far in private?” Again Hermione glanced fleetingly at Draco, then back at Harry.

Oh, yes. Sure. Send the pets out. That was exactly what he needed now.

Draco grimaced and spun around, not wanting to meet Harry’s eyes. Let them have their precious private talk. He wasn’t interested in what the Mudblood had to say. He wasn’t interested in anything. It was all in vain anyhow. The sooner he got out of this room, the better.

He didn’t get very far. His sleeve was caught in a tight grip. “Stay, silly.”

Harry’s words were hushed, but the command they implied was explicit. Draco was forced to stop in his pace.

“Don’t be a prat; come on, turn around again.” The gentle tone of Harry’s low voice was lost on Draco. He obeyed with his nostrils flaring and faced the pair, his eyes reduced to slits. Rage hit him so violently and unexpected he wasn’t able to conceal what he felt; and he didn’t give a damn. He hated them. He hated all of them. His teeth produced an unpleasant grinding sound when his jaws clenched. Standing as erect as he could, actually towering over them, he squared his shoulders.

He’d had enough. No more orders. No more humiliations. He was fed up with being pushed around. It didn’t matter who would address him next. If there was any further command, gentle or rough, he would scream so loud their eardrums would explode and the patronizing expression would vanish from their faces.

But neither Hermione nor Harry took special notice of Draco. After another appraising look towards the others, Hermione grabbed both men by their upper arms and dragged them towards one of the faked windows. Harry fingered his wand in an inconspicuous way and murmured “Muffliato” under his breath, his expectant eyes never leaving Hermione’s face.

“Shoot.”

“Okay. Listen.” Hermione’s voice was earnest, eyeing the two of them in turn. “Harry, you wanted to know if it can be possible for Draco… sorry, I mean Mr Malfoy…” A soft tint of red appeared on her face. Getting flustered, she started to knead her fingers.

“For Merlin’s sake, Hermione,” Harry cut in impatiently, “Draco won’t be offended if you call him by his given name. We’ve all known each other a long time.” Green eyes narrowed with concern, scrutinizing Draco’s face. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Draco shook his head faintly. His aggressive mood had vanished as suddenly as it had erupted. Right now he just felt kind of numb, but curious nonetheless. He was eager to find out what the Mudbl… Hermione had to say. Harry had wanted her to do some research work related to him? He could hear his rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Okay.” Though still a little bit nervous, Hermione started again. “Harry.” Harry nodded agreeably, regarding her with a warm, encouraging smile. Hermione smiled back instantly. Without any reason annoyance was back. Why did they have to display their special closeness all of the time? What about him? He could use a smile of encouragement, too! Draco had difficulties getting the gist of Hermione’s next words. “You wanted to know how a disgraced wizard is able to get his status back, if it is possible at all.”

Her words echoed in Draco’s ears and mingled with the sound of the increasing volume of his heartbeat. But his quick, Slytherin mind took the message in without difficulties. A disgraced wizard – and that meant him, Him, HIM – will get his status back!

“When I got your urgent note last week I started at once. I worked through all the relevant legal sources the Ministry has to offer. I spent whole nights in the archive. In vain! The books weren’t helpful at all. As I’d already predicted, Harry. I mean, I studied Wizarding Law! I know every single paragraph by heart! It’s my job as Assistant to the Head of the Law Office to know about every legal issue existing. Of course I discussed the problem with Judge Callidus at once and even he didn’t know of any similar case. But he promised to ask his colleagues at the Law Office. You know, the deprivation of wizard’s rights is kind of new. Of course the procedure itself is ancient, but it had never been done before the end of the War. Until then, Death Eaters were just sent to Azkaban. No one ever dreamed of the possibility that one of them could escape. So there never was the necessity to prevent Death Eaters or their allies to perform magic once they were convicted. It was when Bellatrix Lestrange and her lot managed to break out of Azkaban the Law Office decided to take the statute of deprivation into effect again. No one ever checked if there is a way to revoke the deprivation! It didn’t seem to be necessary, you know? So, like I said, we discussed the problem and the Judge promised to set his specialists of Ancient Wizarding Law onto it. They started right away and…”

Draco was distracted by a peculiar sound. Harry was exhaling audibly.

“…ok, it was a try, but these are the people who should know. Until yesterday, they weren’t able to find out anything and I was definitely desperate last evening. Everything I had been able to find out so far was ….”

Hermione’s voice kept rattling on and on, but Draco had stopped to pay attention. Harry was getting impatient, Draco sensed it. He knew it took all of Harry’s self-control not to interrupt Hermione’s circumstantial and long-winded narration.

An unexpected, vivid image flashed through Draco’s mind like an electric shock. Harry’s hands grabbing Hermione’s shoulders, shaking her ruthlessly so that her teeth chatter and her chin pounds against her chest repeatedly, the neat updo of her hair loosens and brown curls fly everywhere around her head, hitting her eyes, and she is sobbing and pleading and Harry bellows again and again “Spill it. Spill it. Spill it”.

“… and the owls I sent out yesterday came back without any promising link to follow. I contacted the Judge again, I made it urgent, just like you wanted, and…”

Terrified, Draco stared at Harry’s expressionless face, his bulging eyes fixing on Hermione’s mouth. The deliberate, constant rhythm of controlled inhale and exhale, increasing in speed, was frightening.

“They all agreed. A disgraced wizard is a disgraced wizard. Once deprived of all rights, even if…”

Draco had sensed it all along, but had been too preoccupied with himself to interpret the various signs of Harry’s impending outbreak. When he realized the strain Harry had been under today his stomach turned with sudden fear. It had started with him, Draco, freaking out in the morning, followed by his best friend Ron insulting Harry in the most disdainful way and denouncing their friendship by spitting out; after this being forced to out himself as gay in front of the whole Ministry just to get Draco the respect he deserved; then the frustration about finding no solution to the contract-problem, and not to forget whatever nastiness he had seen in the Pensieve. And all of the time Harry had acted exemplarily, his self-control never wavered. Until now.

“… and of course I found the affirmation in one of the texts of Wizard Law. According to the charter of... “

Harry’s glasses were misty. He was perspiring heavily. Fascinated, not able to move, Draco watched as tiny pearls transformed into drops on Harry’s forehead. Soon the drops joined together, searching their way in tiny rivulets down the delicate curve of Harry’s neck, moistening the protruding veins and strained muscles. Draco was sure now. Harry was about to lose the rest of his self-control that was left.

“…and especially if he was accused of having used Dark Magic. There’s no way back. As I already told you before, Harry, the decree number 587 of …”

The frightening heat radiating from Harry was perceptible on Draco’s skin. Please, don’t! Harry, please. Draco simply knew that any sound he made now would distract Harry from keeping the fragile wall of his self-control intact. Nonetheless a whimper, caused by his helplessness, was building in his throat. Draco tried to fight it back. No sound. For heaven’s sake, no sound.

A drop of sweat landed right on top of the tip of Harry’s nose. Please. Harry. Don’t.

“But then I had an idea. We forgot all about Hogwarts and the Restricted Section of the library. You know? I Apparated to the gates of the school right away. It took two hours to …”

Draco started to tremble when Harry moved his head almost imperceptibly to shake off the traitorous drops of sweat.

Please, don’t, Harry, no more violence, no more hurt. Please, keep up; I know you can do it. She’s your friend, all of them are your friends, don’t hurt them. Please, please keep up…

“It was pretty dusty, and I had to work myself through a lot of…”

Draco’s body went rigid, he felt like puking. He had held his breath for far too long. His nose was already sticky with snot, he had to open his mouth now to get some air, but, please, no, he couldn’t open his mouth, please, Harry, no sound, don’t let me sob, don’t let me wail, don’t let me make a sound, Harry, help me, you can do it, please fight it, don’t … DON’T…

“…hah, I had to laugh, because I remembered…”

He needed air. He had to breathe. He couldn’t help it, he was a loser; he couldn’t stand it any longer; he was too weak to fight it. HARRY PLEASE…

Harry’s hand closed around his the moment Draco opened his mouth.

“… and of course I went there straight away.”

Harry squeezed his hand so firmly that Draco could hear his knuckles crunching. It felt as if his hand was broken. Draco gasped for air like he was drowning.

Hermione beamed proudly at him, misinterpreting his deep intake for breath as admiration. “Yes, this was exciting! Just imagine that! It took me another hour to…”

The pressure upon his hand lessened. It wasn’t broken. Harry’s thumb was caressing the back of his hand gently. With each stroke a wave of comforting warmth spread through Draco’s body. And with each further stroke Draco managed to get his breath under control again.

“So we were successful at last. Isn’t it amazing? First we didn’t have any clue at all, and now we’ve got two possibilities. Two! Can you imagine?”

“I knew I could count on you. Thank you, Hermione!” Harry’s voice was calm, even loving. “Thank you for your support! I know it was hard on you.” He beamed at the excited girl, but Draco comprehended at once whom Harry was addressing. In affirmation, Draco’s hand was squeezed once more.

And although his future was at stake and everything depended upon whatever Hermione still had to say, Draco grinned like a complete idiot.

“Well, now you know. There’s the easy way out and the, ah, risky one.”

“Spill the details!” Harry grabbed for her wrist. His other hand was still lightly closed around Draco’s.

“Okay, first the risky way.” Hermione wriggled her hand loose with determination. She smiled a little. “Somehow, after today’s events, I’m sure you’ll choose the other way, so it’s the more unlikely first.”

“If you say so…” Harry grinned good-naturedly. “But hurry up now. I’m curious to learn about our options! And, Hermione – try to spill the beans in one or two sentences, okay?”

Hermione looked a bit indignant. “Well, here comes the first option. The keyword is ‘guarantee’. Let me explain the precedent: In 1685, a wizard had deceived another…”

“Hermione!” Harry warned. His strained face allowed no further circumstantial explanations.

“Okay, okay. I’ll spare you the details. Although…” Hermione interrupted herself before Harry had the chance to utter another reprimand.

“You have to guarantee with a vow that Draco will never break the Wizard Laws again he has violated.”

Harry shook his head. “And what’s so risky about it? This sounds easy!”

“The vow you give, Harry, will be unbreakable. Which means it will last a lifetime.”

“And? I still don’t see…” Harry was getting impatient again.

“If Draco breaks any of these laws, he will be sentenced for it...” Hermione’s face was solemn.

“I would expect as much.” Harry interrupted, his impatience increasing.

“…and you will be held responsible.”

“That means if Draco decides to misuse a spell in let’s say twenty years…”

“…you will be convicted for it, too. And if Draco decides to play around with Dark Magic in thirty years, you, Harry, will go to Azkaban for it, too. And if Draco decides to use one of the Unforgivable Curses next month, you, Harry, will receive the Dementor’s kiss for it, too.“

“Now I see…” Harry said slowly. He chuckled, but there was no humour in his laughter. “I presume the vow wasn’t made often, was it?”

“Not really. You see, the guarantor stands up for the violations the other has been convicted for. Which means in Draco’s case high treason, misuse of Dark Magic and collaboration with Death Eaters.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. “Got it. - Tell me about the easy way.”

“The easy way is simple. The keyword here is ‘marriage’.” Hermione said happily. “Marriage is a very powerful bond between people. With the marriage vow the two parties express not only mutual trust… The beginning of the marriage vow goes like this. ‘With this vow I will take you as my husband. I promise to accept you as an equal; I will respect you and love you…’ and so on. Accept you as an equal, Harry! As you are a wizard, you’ll accept Draco as an equal, which means as another wizard. ” Hermione beamed at them. “I checked it with Judge Callidus. It will work out. Harry! You just have to accept Draco as an equal in your marriage vow, and Draco will have his status as a wizard back.” Hermione observed them expectantly. “It’s just as simple as that.”

Draco gulped hard to hold back his cry of victory. He felt like dancing! Elated, he pressed Harry’s limp hand with his. The “simple way out” had sounded promising enough. But the prospect of marrying Harry, making him his , and the perspective of being a wizard again, an equal, was just too good to be true! Not to forget the aspect that spouses shared their bed and their estate. Vast wealth, an unquestionable reputation and the performance of magic. And good, hot sex. All in one! He would emit his marriage vow right here and now! Fuck the celebrations. He didn’t have any friends to invite anyhow. He even would accept Hermione as best man. He grinned broadly. Well. Best woman, of course.

“No.”

Harry’s curt response hurt as if Harry had stabbed a sharp knife right into Draco’s middle.

“But I thought…“ Hermione was flabbergasted. “Only two hours ago you declared openly in front of all these wizards…?! And Ginny told us… I don’t understand!” She put her hands upon her hips. “Now what exactly is going on? Is Draco your partner or not?”

Draco tried to shake Harry’s hand off. He needed both of his hands to knock him over. Punch him in the face, smash his glasses into hundreds of splinters and hopefully add some more scars to the fucking handsome face, destroying his hateful beauty forever. This was the easy way, for heaven’s sake!!! How could the dumb-ass decline? Prat! Git! Imbecile! They got along so easy. And there was enough mutual attraction to last them over a hundred years.

But maybe he wasn’t good enough??? Not good enough for Perfect Fucking Potter? Of course, who would want a whore as a spouse? How could he forget that he was nothing but scum! He besmirched a pure and innocent soul with his obtrusive attentions!

Again he tried to shake off the hand holding his.

When Harry spoke at last, his calmness was maddening.

“It might seem to be the easy way, but for me, it isn’t. Draco would be a wizard again, that is true. But what price will he have to pay? What about his freedom of choice? He will be bonded to me. What if Draco wants to move on to someone else after, let’s say, half a year? Because, Hermione, tell me, what happens after a divorce?”

“A divorce would put Draco exactly into the position he is now in.” Hermione cast her eyes down, and her voice didn’t express anything at all. “Draco’s status as a wizard will be terminated the minute the divorce takes effect.”

“Which means if Draco wants to be wizard, Draco will have to stay with me his whole life, regardless if he cares for me or not. That’s what I meant with freedom of choice. No. Let’s forget the easy way.” Harry squeezed Draco’s hand again. He chuckled. “I never was the one for easy ways anyhow.” He turned around to face Draco. “Sorry.” Shrugging his shoulders slightly, Harry chuckled again. “I know I am an imbecile. I can’t help it.” The laughter in his eyes was infectious, and Draco had to smile back.

Harry squared his shoulders. Now Draco squeezed Harry’s hand. His heart was beating fast.

“Okay, Hermione. Tell me. This guarantee-thing. When can I make this bloody vow?”

Hermione stammered, “But, Harry, are you sure? I mean it’s an unbreakable vow. I don’t want to offend you, Draco, but can you promise to never turn back to the Dark side again? Can you?”

Draco flushed deeply. He was about to answer when Harry interjected.

“Nobody can be sure of anything, Hermione. That’s life, isn’t it? – And, besides, I feel responsible for all this mess. I mean, if it wasn’t for me and my rash actions, Draco wouldn’t be here now, trying to live as an outcast in a hostile world… Not to speak of all the poor guys over there at the hotel… No, Hermione, I started all this and I have to make up for it.”

“But, Harry,” Hermione cried out, “you aren’t responsible! The pimps are and …”

“Yes. I know.” Harry interrupted her briskly. “Nonetheless I want to do it. End of discussion. Now what about the vow?”

“It has to be given in front of the Wizengamot… You will have to make a formal request, and then the date for the vow will be scheduled.” Hermione’s answer was reluctant.

“Good. I see. Would you be so kind and prepare the necessary papers?”

Hermione nodded faintly.

“Thank you, my darling!” Harry leaned over and placed a light kiss on her forehead. Then he turned around towards Draco. “Can we go now?”

Draco followed Harry out of the room like a sleepwalker. He couldn’t believe what just had happened. He would be a wizard again, and Harry was going to guarantee for his integrity. How on earth could Harry make such an important decision on the spur of the moment?

But then he grinned. He had succeeded. Harry was his. Body and soul.