Big Chicago

Big Chicago part 25.…by Samayel


“Hah! AHAHAHAHA! Heh! Oh dear! Not the worst thing I’ve been called in my many years of life! Relax, my boy! Your only enemy is fear itself…not me…I assure you of that!”

Okay…I suppose I can take my hand off of my mouth and let my eyes stop bugging out. He’s laughing. That can’t be bad.

“I’m so sorry, sir! I really, really didn’t mean to say that out loud, and-”

“Think nothing of it! You weren’t nearly as inventive with your invective as Minerva is when I forget to finish my paperwork in time for her quarterly review. And you may call me Brian, if you wish. I have a few other names rattling about as well, but that one serves best. Frankly, I’ve had so many in my time that I might well have forgotten a few of them. I suppose I’ll have that brandy while you look at the contents of that envelope.”

“Oh. You know what? I’m starting to catch a little of that English spirit. Bugger the diet. I’ll have a small brandy after all. I think I need it.”

I am sooo not kidding. My heart is still pounding and I think I’m going to have an adrenaline headache later. I didn’t mean to say that in front of him…but Jesus Christ! My life flashed in front of my eyes. Twenty-five years is hard to fit into a few seconds, and the sad part is that only the last few weeks stand out as incredible!

“Here, here. The important thing, Drake, is moderation. Moderation in all things…especially moderation…as the poet, Robert W. Service, once wrote. Inside that envelope you’ll find what we know about you, and then a very brief contract, necessarily obscure, which you will have to sign.

Then we shall discuss your history, and perhaps a measure of your future, as well as diverse other matters that may strike me as we chat. Alright?”

“Oh. Okay. If…if I can ask…”

“Feel free. In here there need be no secrets. Elsewhere is another matter, but speak your mind as you wish.”

I can hear the decanter clinking and liquid tumbling into glass snifters. I close my eyes for a moment and try to pull myself together before I push my luck.

“Was it absolutely necessary to scare the hell out of me?”

Blue eyes over the edge of a glass. He hands me my brandy, and I can tell he’s deadly serious again.

“It wasn’t my intent to terrify you, whatever you may think. It was my intent to tempt you…test your resolve as it were. Given what I know of your health and background, you’ve shown exemplary courage…an asset of which the world is in desperately short supply. Had you swayed or hesitated overlong, leaving me with the impression that you could be easily purchased, I would have been disappointed, and yet relieved. As it stands now, there is much that must be seen to regarding your employment. Just trust that it’s a welcome complication.”

Something is getting clearer to me. The panic is fading, and my brain is working overtime again. There’s something he isn’t saying…but I know it’s there, just beneath the surface.

“It wasn’t even about me being a part of this…was it? This wasn’t because you wanted to hire me. This was about Harry. Wasn’t it?”

“Check and checkmate, my dear boy. It has a great deal more to do with Harry than it does with you.”

He sips his brandy while I sip mine in astonishment. A glance at the bottle confirms my suspicions. Napoleonic. This brandy is older than he is! And still incredible! Even the stuff I snuck out of Daddy’s liquor cabinet was swill next to this.

“You see, Drake, Harry is…different. Perhaps, given my business affairs and the nature of the Phoenix Corporation, of which you shall shortly learn more, it is foolish for an old man to make exceptions when so many lives are at risk. But, alas, I fear I must be a fool after all.

I haven’t any children of my own. When I pass from this earth, all that I have accomplished will be the same as dust. Lost in memory within a few generations, a blip in the history texts of the future. Harry…Harry is very dear to me. More important than the work he does, more significant than the usefulness of his many talents…I do not want him to be alone. Even if common sense dictates otherwise.

I did not clamber and scrabble so far in this life, only to tear away from others a chance at happiness and companionship. There is much I would sacrifice to leave a better world than the one I helped to make years ago, but Harry’s happiness is not mine to trade. And so…here we are.”

I knew it! He was testing me to see if I was fit to be with Harry! The rueful way he smiles and hangs his head while he sips the brandy…the quiet, but understated tone of voice. It all says that he cares even when he shouldn’t, or can’t afford to for business reasons. I don’t know what to say.

“Cat got your tongue, does it? That’s quite alright. You can just read the contents of the envelope while I talk. I admit to having become more than a little long winded in my golden years. Once again, the price of age.”

It’s surreal. I’m looking at my life in black and white. So much information. Things I never imagined anyone would care to record. It’s all there, and they dug it up just to make sure it was safe for Harry to have me around. Where I was born, where I was schooled, and every small assessment, for good or ill, along the way. Letters from teachers. Pictures from the paper. The blue ribbons I won for English Dressage while riding one of father’s Arabians.

You can actually see the shift in my life happen. There’s a slight blur in my sophomore year, with occasional tardiness but grades still consistently high, and then midway through my junior year it all changes. Absences, reprimands, tardiness and unfinished schoolwork. I had been on the fast track to the Ivy League…and then I was a high school dropout, homeless, and a prostitute. Until Blaise came along.

He’s here too. Just a copy of a picture of us. Taken at a nightclub entrance when I was seventeen. We looked good together. I looked cool and happy and young…but I already looked a little worn. Frayed around the edges. Like I’d been to war and seen the face of hell, and I was pretending it didn’t exist now that I had good clothes and good food again. If that kid in the picture had known what was coming, he’d have run far and fast to get away.

Medical records from the prison. My mugshot and files from when I was booked and charged. The paperwork from the courts. All here. And then it ends with Snape’s reports. The vampire took notes! All those psych questions to sort out my condition are here. Every little detail I shared is here…and his conclusions.

’Brilliant, but erratic. Highly analytical, with a marked talent for arts and languages. A survivor with a strong sense of opportunism, but with what I suspect is a moral voice that doesn’t readily waver. Self-indulgent, albeit little more than anyone else these days. Potentially co-dependant, with an inclination toward high anxiety. Exhibits classic symptoms of post-traumatic stress. These things aside, given that he possesses a fine, if underused, mind, the young man seems to have a solid grasp of what is expected of him in this situation, and with suitable training may be gainfully employed, to his benefit as well as ours. Whatever makes your Golden Boy happy. Don’t expect me to do these interview/assessments on the fly again. This is not my department.’

That jerk! Self-indulgent! Just because the last seven years have been complete shit and I wanted a pizza and a cocktail now and then? Argh! I could just spit! Then I remember that the boss is still talking.

“Harry does not want all of what I can offer. He could easily become my heir, take from me the mantle of these affairs, but I’m afraid he only wants one thing now. That would be…you. I suppose I’ll find someone else, or several ‘someone elses’, if I must. The Phoenix Corporation will continue…though I’m fairly sure I won’t be at its helm all that much longer.”

I tug at my tie nervously, now that I know I won’t be condemned for it. I’m still sweaty and itchy from the aftermath of a near panic attack. Plus…I hate tight collars on boy clothes.

“Drake…there isn’t any reason to stand on ceremony here, though I appreciate that you dressed for the occasion, but there’s no reason not to be yourself while you’re here. It isn‘t as if those of us, whose opinions on such things might have meaning, haven‘t already seen pictures of your preferred attire.”

Is he saying what I think he’s saying? He can’t be serious! The smirk and casual attitude says he’s sincere. What would they have thought of me if I’d come here in one of my outfits from home?! It’s such a personal thing. I’m not used to talking casually about it with anyone but a lover or a friend, and I’ve seen precious few of those for a long while.

“I didn’t want to scandalize anyone. Harry is very important to me, but you already know that. I just thought it would be better to go with a more formal look.”

“Needn’t worry for my opinion of you, though it might be awhile before we meet again. It’s a useful thing, being able to seemingly change genders before the eyes of others. As a matter of fact, during the War, when I was attempting to slip out of Germany without drawing undue attention, I crossed a river by night, and having drenched my clothes while hurrying to avoid a patrol, I made use of some clothing that I found drying on a line nearby. The tragedy is that I apparently made a rather homely maiden. I must have passed a dozen soldiers and failed to generate as much as a whistle of interest. Quite a bruise to my ego.”

I can’t help but laugh. The brandy is superb, and I’m going to be safe, with Harry beside me, and taken care of in a way that won’t be injurious to my health. What a strange and wonderful old man.

“Alright. No standing on ceremony. Next time I’m in this part of the world, I’ll bring my real wardrobe, but I might as well warn you…by then…we might need another plane to haul it!”

“Hah! A timely comment. I think I should tell you a little about what we really do here, before you sign your name to that contract. The Phoenix Corporation is quite legitimate, and exists primarily as a means to exploit the rather lax scrutiny of international corporations. Through the auspices of a privately held company, it is possible to move money and personnel around the globe with comparative ease, and this allows me to strive toward my primary goal.

“You should understand by now that, while we are engaged in a covert war with the Enigma Corporation and its founder, Tom Riddle, there is more to the Phoenix Corporation than just that. Tom was a pupil of mine many years ago, and I fear that my tutelage and recommendations ultimately led to his rise to power and current wealth. Had I realized then that he possessed such a ruthless desire to control and dominate, even at the cost of innocent lives, I would have ensured that he remained insignificant for the remainder of his days. Alas, hindsight is always clearer. Then he was just a gifted young man, exceptionally capable and with a penchant for impressing his seniors.

“I created this enterprise for two reasons. The lesser reason was to oppose Tom Riddle’s growing influence, and this much you already know, but I’m afraid the world’s problems are quite a bit more vast than the machinations of one wealthy man run amuck. Tom Riddle is only a symptom of a much greater and more terrible disease…one which has afflicted mankind since its inception. While I wholeheartedly desire to see the mistake I unleashed in the form of Tom Riddle erased from the cosmic tally, there is a greater work which we must undertake and see through to its end.

“Greed, Mr. Malfoy. It’s a perfectly natural thing, a never-ending desire for more than we already have. It is the culmination of our species’ desire to thrive and survive. I am and have been as guilty of it as anyone else. Unfortunately, the stakes of the natural game have changed. We are unquestionably atop the pyramid of the food chain, unquestioned masters of our domain. We no longer have any enemies of consequence…save for time…and our own selves. The greed that made us struggle against a natural world that once fought back has won us our place today…but that same greed is our undoing.

“Our population, unchecked by predators, war, disease or any instinct to maintain modest numbers, has grown astronomically in just my lifespan. Our technology too has leapt forward in just the space of generations. The whole of human history, millennia piled atop millennia, has never witnessed such a complete and overwhelming explosion of population. Only now have the once abundant resources of this planet become stretched, divided between those who are fortunate enough to have, and those who have not.

“That brings us back to the crisis of greed. Feudal lords and ancient satraps once lived lives of outrageous splendor, while those around them dwelt in penury. That was the way of history. The strong thrived, and the poor served in exchange for what little they could barter for their services. This aside, with resources so plentiful, it was possible for the majority of people to at least meet their basic needs. That situation, long the norm, is beginning to change.

“Resources are not inexhaustible. Fresh water and arable cropland are dwindling in comparison to the need for same. Energy to power our lives and lifestyles does not come from nowhere at all. The world is both growing larger, and yet, inexorably, smaller at the same time. We are all affected by these changes, even those of us insulated by wealth. The key difference is that those who possess wealth, and whose needs are comfortably met, do not see a crisis at hand…yet.

“In these last few centuries, exceptional greed could be characterized as the whimsical behavior of the very few and very rich, living in excess and spending their wealth for their amusement. On the bright side, at least they were spending it. Whether as Roman noblemen lavishing their wealth upon temples and stadiums, or feudal lords and churchmen building great cathedrals and castles, the wealth was constantly redistributed. From the bottom, to the top, then back to the bottom again. This seemingly endless cycle has been fatally interrupted.

“The capitalization of wealth has changed the dynamic entirely. It is possible by speculation and investment to accumulate enormous wealth, all without a single product created, or a service rendered, or more than the fewest possible people employed. The wealth moves upward, but barely descends. Western culture in particular has constantly reinforced the validity of this process, lauding it in our advertisements, incorporating it into our urban myths and national character, and letting it become the foundation stone of our politics.

“Please don’t mistake my meaning, as I myself am an ardent capitalist, and a great believer in the natural evolution of human behavior dictating that systems of exchange must exist for goods and services, but I’m afraid there is a limit to what any system can bear. We have sold for generations now a bill of goods that cannot ultimately be paid for with simple sweat. Consumerism, and the feverish need to consume as much as possible, as lavishly as possible, has been taught as a way of life and settled upon the backs of those who can ill afford it. We teach the hunger to acquire, but we do not teach the responsibility to manage. A recipe, in short, for utter catastrophe.”

I agree entirely, but I use smaller words on average. Not that I don’t like the way he thinks, since he acknowledges things that most people with lots of ready cash won’t even say out loud, but I do have one niggling problem…my own conscience.

“So…would now be a bad time to mention that I really, really love to shop?”

“HAH! It might at that! Ahhh…Drake…small wonder Harry enjoys your company so. You give a rather long-winded old man more than his measure of laughter. Aptly put, and in all honesty, I rather miss the days when I could handle more than the occasional jaunt to Harrod’s. The experience is somewhat embittered by the knowledge that I have more than contributed to the problems which ail our entire world. Not just by permitting Tom Riddle his successful start in this world, but by my own investments and choices during my rather long lifetime. I do not exempt myself from our planet-wide epidemic of conscience, but I am, in my way, trying to make amends.

“It would, in the normal course of things, fall upon our leadership to make those changes which are necessary to ensure our collective future well-being. Sadly, the epidemic short-sightedness of our culture of consumerism has reached every level of our society, and our political and religious institutions are no longer agents of social justice, or of needed change. They are instruments of the status quo, and they do not profit from sudden changes. Thus, they make a few small noises at appropriate times, but little of consequence. Likewise our many forms of media, almost entirely owned and managed by conglomerates, none of which desire bold statements about their own behavior needing modification. Thus, near silence, or at best, badly muddied waters which even a bright person might fail to see clearly through.

“Pollution, the hallmark of industry, has run utterly out of control. Chemical toxins have damaged the freshwater supplies we have, the air we breathe, and the food we eat. Some are even placed into the food after its harvest, added in the form of complicated chemicals intended to sterilize, enhance and preserve, their full effects never tested carefully or with an eye toward the effects of long term exposure. The laws we have passed against the pollution of air have been carefully engineered to exempt the most powerful and influential nations and businesses, permitting governments to buy ’carbon credits’ from nations that lack industry and letting businesses take advantage of special exemptions, without actually undertaking much needed changes that are becoming more and more critical with each passing year.

“Our future is looking frighteningly uncertain, as the ice from our poles quickly dwindles away, adding water to the ocean that hasn’t been present since before the last ice age. Routine weather patterns have been disrupted worldwide by the changing temperature and salinity of our ocean currents, the consequences visible in the number and intensity of storms on both hemispheres. The holes in the ozone layer grow, the planet heats, growing just a little steamier each year, every year raising the specter of mosquito-borne illness, pandemic, and species invasion or extinction.

“With rising oceans comes shrinking coastlines and saltwater intrusion, crimping desperately needed freshwater supplies, while populations will still increase as long as food supplies allow it. And when food supplies no longer allow that…then…then we will see the crisis very plainly, and the excuses of yesteryear will ring very hollow in the ears of the hungry. And so…what can be done? What can we do to change all of this? What can stop this calamity of apocalyptic proportions from happening? Have you an answer for us all?”

Talk about being under the gun! Like I know how to solve the world’s problems!? Come on! Last month I was a prison bitch, I’ve already had the shit scared out of me twice in two days, and more than anything, I’d like a good hard fucking and a nap, because I’m jet-lagged, tired, and tense, and nothing mellows me back out quite like having Harry pound me through the mattress and into the floor before bed. Still, I have to say something. He’s looking at me with his glass raised in his good hand, one eyebrow cocked and awaiting my reply.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what would help. I don’t have an answer. I wish I did.”

The old man sighs heavily, deflating almost in front of me, then shrugs his shoulders and takes his seat with an air of defeat.

“Alas…neither do I. I was hoping you might. And that leaves us with what I am doing. The only thing I know for a fact can be done. Aside from paying for research and building a consortium of like-minded investors to fund these projects, I have only a few ideas that might delay the inevitable.

“Perhaps I know nothing of how to save the world from itself, but by God, I will use what is left to me to buy the human race just a little more time to figure it out. Perhaps someone else will find the answers, but I can ensure we have the ability to survive just a little longer.

“Water. Around the world, we are building desalination plants on a larger scale than have ever been built before. They will operate independently, delivering their product for free. Some for irrigation of croplands, and some for drinking. Wherever we can, I have people working on alternative energy sources, and researching ways to maximize food production by means that aren’t vulnerable to sudden changes of temperature. Likewise the removal of pollutants, and means by which to reverse a portion of the damage we have done. I doubt it will be enough, but if I can buy this world just a little more time, it will have been worth it.

“My legacy will probably never be known to any but a few, most particularly since my aims run counter to the interests of those who place profiteering ahead of the survival of humanity, and must therefore remain secret, but I will know that I have tried, and that shall have to suffice. They will continue to profess ignorance of anything gone awry, and proclaim uncertainty about the necessity of change, as if by merely saying that the sun does not rise, the morning simply won’t come. To preserve their conscience, they must cling to the lies they have told to preserve their comfortable state of ignorance, but I, and others, will push forward without them, not for glory, or profit, or any material gain, but for the survival of our species. That we not fade into the long dark of history, a cosmic joke, a failed experiment of carbon-based, bipedal mammals.

“So I ask you this, Drake Malfoy…would you work in silence for a cause such as this? The rewards are more than adequate, but more importantly, you would be beside Harry, albeit working in a far less dangerous capacity.”

Damn. He really means to do it. He’s wealthy enough that he really could make those things happen. Free water from the oceans, maybe enough to take the edge off of their eventual rise. It wouldn’t solve everything, but it would help. Water means crops means life is still possible. It could be done. Harry and the rest of them fighting against Riddle suddenly seems so small, even if it is a hundred times more dangerous than researching cures for society’s ills.

Maybe I’ve gone too long living a life with no meaning beyond seeking my own pleasure. I’m a creature of comfort and I know it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do better. I can have Harry, and everything else besides, and still be doing something that has a real purpose…not just getting rich or getting by.

“Yes. Absolutely yes. Not just because of Harry, either, but I admit to that being the biggest part of it. Keep Harry, fight evil, get rich, and do it all while helping to save the world? I’d have to be crazy to say no to that. I’m all yours, signed, sealed and delivered. Here’s the contract.”

He takes the contract back and files it neatly, then holds out his good hand. A handshake and a smile, and I’m a member of the Phoenix Corporation. Hello, new life, meet Drake Malfoy. For the first time in my entire life, I have a real job, which is a lovely change of pace from a long career based almost solely on my willingness to put out in exchange for money or protection. It feels pretty good, too.

“Congratulation, Drake. Welcome aboard. As for your actual employment terms, I was thinking of something along the lines of translation work in the offices, alongside the remarkable Miss Granger and Miss Patil. They could certainly use your help, given the sheer volume of information through which they regularly sift. I think we can arrange for some refresher courses in French, Italian and Spanish for you, as well as some computer training that will avail you well in your new work. Does that sound like an amenable use of your natural talents?”

“God, yes! I know it might sound boring to some people, but languages were always like a puzzle to me, and I always loved puzzles. Keeps my mind busy, and I like that. I do need that brush up though…I’ve only read a couple of books in French since I met Harry, and while I did speak a little Spanish and Italian over the last seven years, it wasn’t anything really challenging. Just jailhouse chatter. This means I’ll always know what Harry’s up to, right? I don’t think I could worry more than I do now, knowing next to nothing…so that’s bound to help too. I won’t let you down…I promise!”

“I’m sure you won’t! I have confidence in you, Drake, and speaking of your name, there are some arrangements we’ll have to make regarding your identity. Drake Malfoy is too well known in Chicago to simply vanish…you‘d be recognized, and for the time being, that name will have to suffice, but we can arrange for a separate ID, one through which we can employ you…untraceably, and which will allow you to travel without undo attention from law enforcement. I’ll let Harry work out the specifics with you, and we’ll have the new ID ready for you before your training is complete.

“Much of the rest you already know. The reasons why we never speak last names aloud in unsecured areas, the subjects we never speak of directly, and absolute silence regarding our ‘business’ to those who aren’t employed by The Phoenix Corporation. There will be other lessons during your training, but you’ve already learned the most important lessons, and shown that you can follow them…within reason.”

I blush. I know he’s obliquely referring to that little gaffe I made on the phone. I didn’t say anything dangerous, and that’s probably the only reason I’m not running for my life along with Harry now. I know the stakes of the game in a way I never did before. I think it helps, knowing how important all this really is.

People might ask why all the secrecy is called for, but I understand. They hack the intelligence files of every major nation to track Riddle, and most countries would be furious. Stopping a criminal shouldn’t be a crime, but I know how the world works, and sometimes the criminals are so far above the law that only an equal power can fight them. No one is opposed to saving the world, but there are ways to profit from NOT doing it, and creating a vast supply of free water would disrupt a lot of speculators and their investments in the future scarcity of water. They would stop at nothing to protect those investments, because billions of dollars would be on the line. Competition is one thing, but being bankrupted because of a massive charity effort is another.

Many companies and consortiums buy up water rights, usually in places where people have so much water that they don’t realize what might happen when it finally starts running short. They pump the water out of the ground, bottle it, ship it all over the country and make a mint doing it, but they don’t pay for new local wells when the old ones can’t draw deep enough anymore. Like usual, the little guy gets screwed, and the big guy walks away laughing. Dumbledore just happens to be a bigger guy than the water speculators, and if they got wind of the screwing they were going to get, they’d use every trick in the book to stop him.

“I was a little overwrought, and I’m not denying that Doc Snape has a point, but I promise you…I am getting better, and I’ll give you my very best. I won‘t put Harry at risk, and you can count on that.”

He smiles mildly, blue eyes holding me captive. His good hand is playing idly with an old watch made of gold, hanging on a fancy chain. It just swings back and forth while we chat. Back and forth. The brandy must have gotten to me a little. I feel comfortable and full of hope. Well fed and no longer panicked. The jet lag is still kicking my ass, and I can’t help feeling sluggish while lounging in a nicely cushioned chair and sipping brandy. Back and forth. His voice is comforting…calm and serene, full of wisdom.

“You’ve had a troubled time, my boy, but that can be dealt with eventually. You’ve done very well, and I understand precisely why Harry is fond of you. Relaxed? You should be, and no harm will come to you here. I believe in you, and you will make a fine addition to our team. I am sorry about some the blows that life dealt you. So much talent, so much ability and verve, all left unused while fate’s cat paws batted you to and fro.

You’re too tense, little dragon. Your troubles overwhelm you sometimes, and they put you and all of us at risk. You deserve help with that, not condemnation. I’m going to help you. Are you relaxed, Drake?”

Sleepy. I nod. The watch just keeps swaying on its chain of gold, and I’ve only ever felt this peaceful in Harry’s arms.

“Good. When you feel tense…when you feel like the stress of a moment is too much to bear, I want you to recall this moment…this feeling…and bring it back to yourself. Deep slow breaths. Total calm. You can make decisions when you feel this way, and they’ll be better choices than some of the ones you’ve made under duress in the past. Don’t let fear own you, because fear is just an illusion. Your own strengths…those are real. When I snap m fingers and call your name, you will awaken, and this last part of our conversation will be lost in the haze of memory, but this feeling of calm will come back to you when you need it most, and you will know that you can do whatever you must. Understood?”

Another nod.

“Drake?”

The snap of fingers and I’m alert again. I must have gone all drowsy on him! God, how embarrassing! A little brandy and I’m practically facedown and snoring. Pathetic!

“Sorry, sir! I…I’m jet-lagged still. Other end of the world and all, you know? I can’t believe I nodded off while we discussed my contract.”

“No need for apologies, Drake. I wouldn’t have kept you up so late, had it not been for the pressing need to address all this. If you’d like, I’m sure Harry is eagerly awaiting your company, and this old man has monopolized your attention quite long enough. Do have a good evening. I’ll see you and Harry again before you depart.”

I stand and make a little bow, trying to mimic the bows I’ve seen people give him here, and he smiles mildly at my fumbled attempt. I really must be sleepier than I thought.

“Thank you, sir, for everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Very well. Good night, Drake.”

“Good night, sir.”

On the way out, my eyes catch a tattered black and white picture. A sliver of his history, one of only a few in the room. The tall boy must be him. The nose isn’t bent, and the back isn’t bowed by age. The hand that no longer works is on the shoulder of another young man, this one shorter and obviously blond, even in a black and white picture. Rakish smiles on two gangling boys in their late teens. There’s something about it…something odd and familiar between them. Like they’re laughing at the world and treasuring a secret only they hold.

Dear God! Is he? Like Harry…and me? I can’t help but turn back to him, and I can tell he sees the question on my face before I even speak it. He looks sad. Tired and careworn, but resigned.

“Yes. The answer is yes, Drake. I told you that I would never want Harry to live a life without the warmth that comes of companionship. I understand perfectly what that must be like, and I would never wish such a thing upon another.”

“May I ask…?”

A simple nod and a gentle smile. “Who was he?”

“His name was Gellert. His family came to England well before the war. I was home from university, ill-suited to a life without intellectual peers, and he became the dearest friend I have ever had.”

“What…is it alright to ask what happened?”

His gaze turns to flint in a heartbeat. I wish I hadn’t asked. I should have just kept my mouth shut.

“He joined the Nazi party and returned to the continent before the war took hold. He was a scientist and an economist without peer. He was very high among their ranks when the war ended. I engineered his capture, attended his trial, and testified against him. He was hanged for crimes against humanity, and for participation in genocide.”

Not exactly the happy gay bedtime story I’d hoped for! He waves off my apologies and tells me it stopped mattering long ago, but I know he’s lying. I understand something else now. This is why I’ve made it this far. This is why he made such an exception for Harry. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like…to do what he did…to lose someone that important…to be the reason they’re no longer among the living. We part with a few words, because there’s almost nothing I could say that would sound right. My solace is that Harry is waiting for me in Minerva’s office outside, and the smile on his face is just what I need after a night that has managed to encompass stark terror and outright joy in less than an hour. The hallways are huge and empty while I keep his hand in mine and stroll quietly.

“I take it that things went well?”

“You know they did. And by the way…you are SUCH a bastard for letting me go in there without knowing that he’d test me! I was terrified! It’s a damn good thing you’re worth all this…asshole.”

That muted chuckle I love so much is back. The corner of his mouth is curled into a smirk.

“I knew you’d pass. I never doubted it for a second. As soon as he told me that he was going to put an offer on the table and test your resolve, I told him it wouldn’t work. You proved me right, and I knew you would. Looks like we’re both pretty good gamblers, doesn’t it?”

Well, there goes being mad about it. The fucker knows exactly what makes me melt inside and love him more than ever. I can’t bring myself to dislike that.

“Okay. Granted…but you still ought to offer something more than words. I’ve been traumatized…I deserve some very, very serious comforting.”

“I think I have just the thing for that. Let me show you the way to the garage. There’s something I rarely get to enjoy there, and I think you’ll like it too.”

“Lead on, but I’m curious about what could be in a garage that I would enjoy so much. I planned on the bedroom, but I’ll follow your lead.”

In the back corner of the garage, which is simply enormous and surprisingly empty except for a few magnificent antique cars in vintage condition, is a lump covered by tarps. Harry pulls the tarp away with a smile, and now I know why.

“It’s gorgeous!”

“I know! This belonged to Sirius. It was his bike. A lot of what he left to me was auctioned off, because he didn’t care about his family’s old stuff, and none of it meant anything to me, but I kept a few things to remember him by, and this was one of them. How do you feel about a ride? Got extra helmets and jackets in the crate over there.”

And that settles that. I ride behind Harry, on a motorcycle as big and black as the night itself, tearing through hills that smell like peace and heather. The creak of leather jackets. The roar and vibration between my legs while I cling to Harry’s warmth in front of me. The wind tugging at me as we purr our way along empty roads lit only by the moon and stars. He was right. This is good comfort.

I never thought of England as being anything like paradise, but I guess my paradise brought me here with him. The top of a high and grassy hill beneath the stars, curled in a nest of our discarded clothing, sated and lazy, naked under the summer moon. Tomorrow there will be farewells, and another long flight to home, but tonight…tonight there is only Harry…and me…and the eternal enigma of the future, tinged with the strength of my hope for the best.

I can live with that.

TBC!!!