Elurot Det Alsmai

They began their investigation early the next day. As soon as Harry and Draco went into the Ministry, they headed to the lifts. They rode in companionable silence, standing as far away from each other as the cramped space in the lift would allow. The two men made their way down the hall, turning left, when they would normally have turned right to step into the Aurors’ Offices. They walked up to the door, Draco removing the first set of spells surrounding the room, before entering inside. The box sat innocently on a table in the middle of the room, but they knew that wasn’t the case.

Draco turned, glancing at Potter, an enquiring look on his pointed face. “Are you ready, Potter?”

Harry sighed quietly and shrugged, looking at the box with trepidation. “As I’ll ever be, I imagine.”

“Here we go.” Draco swished his wand towards the box, levitating each item from within before setting it down on the floor, unshrinking them as he repeated the process until every item they’d taken from Club Infinity was back to its original size.

Harry was in the middle of casting a DNA spell on a resized suspension sling when he felt Malfoy stop next to him.

“So, what’s that for?” Draco asked, curious.

Harry turned towards Malfoy, arching an eyebrow. “Why don’t I just show you?”

“You’re a sick man, Potter,” Draco replied, stepping back. “I’m not letting that thing go anywhere near my arse!”

“Prude.”

“What did you just call me?”

“I called you a prude,” Harry replied with a smirk. “These items make life more interesting. Maybe you’d know that if you got out more often and lived a little…”

“I’m sorry,” Draco began, sarcastically, “but unlike you, I don’t need to be tied up and spanked to have a good time.”

“Don’t knock it. You don’t know what you’re missing out on until you’ve actually tried it.”

“Fine, fine,” Draco placated. “You’re right and I’m wrong. Can we get back to work now?”

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation as he stepped forward. He randomly picked an item, which happened to be a rack, and muttered the spell. All of a sudden, there was a big flash of yellow light, which caused Harry and Draco to shield their eyes. When the glow before their lids dimmed considerably, they opened their eyes, blinking, as they looked around to see if anything had happened.

A label had appeared, the shimmering words being written down before their eager eyes. It took only a few moments before the words stopped and Harry inched closer, anxious to finally find out the information they’d been searching for.

Draco watched impatiently as Potter read, eyes scanning the glittering words, lips moving soundlessly as he read. “Well? What does it say?” he asked, frowning at the drawn out silence from the dark-haired man.

Harry back away from the rack, eyes going wide, and mouth hanging open in horror. His breathing picked up, making him pant heavily as the room suddenly began to emanate a low buzzing noise.

Draco stared at Potter in confusion as he bumped into a bondage table placed behind them. Draco didn’t know what to make of Potter’s silence. What in Merlin’s name was on that label? “Potter?”

No … this isn’t possible! Harry mentally seethed, trembling in fury at what he’d read. He was unaware of his hands balling into fists, his control over his magic beginning to slip away. Harry didn’t even notice when the room began crackling--electrifying energy making his messy hair even more so.

"All right there, Potter?" Draco asked, concerned. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and he wasn't sure why--what was so upsetting that Potter would--

He darted to the side just in time to avoid the whipping post that crashed into the wall where his head would have been. "Potter!" Draco called out louder this time, eyes wide and breath leaving him in sharp pants. He was thoroughly alarmed as various objects around them began rattling, vibrating from the impressive display of magical outburst: furious magic. It couldn't have been him, so that only left Potter. Draco narrowed his eyes, staring at the office ruins swirling around a livid Potter. It was a terrible sight, but he dared not drag his gaze away.

Only when he ducked and covered his head as something heavy whizzed past his ear did he shout out, "Fuck!"

“I--I can’t believe this! These … maniacs, they tortured those people with items from my own shop! My shop!” Harry shouted, fury unlike any he’d ever felt before, rolling off of him, causing the rack to explode in a shower of wood and metal.

Draco ducked once more out of the way of the explosion, eyes going wide in panic, unable to do much else at the moment than stare in shock at Potter. Without considering the consequences, he stepped in front of Potter, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him until he looked him in the eyes. “Potter, calm down!” he demanded urgently. “You’ll collapse the entire building if you keep this up!”

Harry stared unblinkingly at Malfoy, his anger slowly ebbing away as the crackling petering down to an unfelt buzz. He took in a ragged breath. “Malfoy?” he asked, confused, as he felt the surge of power leave him slowly. “What happened?”

Slowly blinking his eyes, Harry looked around. He hadn’t realised his power had got away from his control until he saw the mess he’d unintentionally made.

“Potter?” Draco asked, cautiously removing his hands from the other man’s shoulders. “You still with me?”

“How could this happen?” Harry questioned to no one in particular, standing still as his expression went blank, no longer seeing anything. The items he sold were supposed to be for fun--a way to express one’s darker sexual urges without hurting another person. In fact, that was the whole point of a safe word—to let the submissive partner stop the play if he or she wasn’t comfortable in their role any longer.

He turned accusing eyes to Malfoy, knowing it wasn’t his fault, but needing to place the blame somewhere. “These items weren’t meant for this!” He shoved the blond, sending him sprawling onto the floor, his anger making him lash out at the nearest person. He heard Malfoy grunt as he landed heavily onto his arse. Harry stepped back, staring at the opposite wall, unseeing. “This is all my fault,” Harry whispered sadly, unshed tears making his eyes shine with emotion.

Draco scrambled to his feet, grabbing Potter’s shoulders. “This isn’t your fault,” he replied, once more shaking Potter to get him to acknowledge his presence. “Do you hear me?” Draco asked, staring intently into the dark-haired man’s eyes. “This is not your fault!”

“But—”

“Potter,” Draco sighed in exasperation. “How could this be your fault? Were you the one who tortured those Muggles to death?”

“…No.”

“Then how is this your fault?” Draco stepped away from him, gesturing around the room with his hands. “You sold these items on good faith that they wouldn’t be used for malicious intent. You’re not responsible for anything after they leave your possession.”

Harry sighed forlornly, his fury dying down a little as he focused on what Malfoy had said. He was still upset and angry that someone could do anything of that magnitude. He knew on some level he wasn’t accountable for what had happened, but he couldn’t help feeling as if he were. “I’m sorry for shoving you,” he apologised despondently.

“You were angry, and rightly so, don’t worry about it,” Draco replied with a shrug. “Does the label say who bought the items?” he asked carefully, hoping his question wouldn’t set Potter off again since they needed to know.

Harry sighed, shaking his head. “No, it only has where it came from originally.” He thought it over for a moment. “It could be that this… person placed an Anti-Detection Charm on these items.”

“That could be the case, since the Detection Charm hadn’t worked very well if it only told us the where and not the who,” Draco replied, staring blankly across the room as he thought.

“Maybe it wasn’t us,” Harry commented thoughtfully, not looking at Malfoy. “Maybe someone’s deliberately making it difficult for us to find out who had acquired these.”

Draco hummed quietly, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to piece together this bit of information. “Potter,” he began, “when you sell your items, do you keep any type of documentation about them?”

Harry frowned at the question, thinking. “As a matter of fact, I do. Should we head there to have a look?”

“Nope. Thought we’d go home and have a wank,” Draco replied sardonically. “Yes, Potter. We should have a look.”

They Disapparated out of the room, leaving the items behind as they Apparated into an alley a few feet from Harry’s shop. Harry knew not a lot of Muggles ventured here so they’d be safe from curious eyes, wondering where the two of them had come from. They walked quickly to the front of the shop; it was still early in the day, so Harry didn’t have to worry about people wanting to browse. As soon as they made it to the front door, they swiftly entered, making their way to the back.

“The books I use to keep track of sales are stored in these boxes,” Harry said, looking at Malfoy as he gestured to the rows of stacked boxes. “The spell gave me a time-frame of sorts, so that should help narrow our search.”

“All right, let’s get started, then.” Draco replied, eyeing the boxes wearily.

They spent the next hour going through boxes that Harry knew to have come from around the time they were searching for. Harry had a system, but he knew they would wind up spending all day inside the shop if he tried explaining it to Malfoy.

“Aha!” Harry exclaimed in triumph, holding the sales book up for Malfoy. “Found it.”

Draco dropped the book he’d had in his hands with a sigh. “Thank, Merlin. People would think that I was a novice cutter with all the paper cuts I’ve got on my fingers,” he mumbled, moving closer to Potter to see it.

Harry thumbed through his sales book, reviewing each entry, trying to find the one for the purchase of the items. After a few moments of flipping pages, he sighed in frustration. “There’s no name here I recognise,” he said, putting the book down and taking his glasses off his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Draco squatted down to pick the book up, leafing through a few pages. He thought another set of eyes might help find what they were looking for, because he hadn’t found anything odd in the ledgers he’d been looking through. “Potter,” he said suddenly, eyebrows furrowing. “Did you notice this odd name?”

“What name?” Harry asked, curious, leaning forward to look at the book.

“This one: Elurot Det Alsmai.”

Harry wrinkled his brows. “I didn’t even notice it,” he replied, turning pages. “This particular person bought several items that seem to match the ones back at the Ministry at different times, but I do sell more than one of any piece.”

“Do you remember what this person looked like?” Draco persisted, looking over at Potter.

Harry shook his head regrettably. “My shop isn’t normally busy, but I don’t remember everyone who purchases my items, unfortunately.”

Draco stood up and stretched the kinks out. “We’re getting nowhere here. Maybe we should head back to the Ministry and tell Kingsley what we’ve found so far.”

Here we go again. I feel like I’m living at Kingsley’s office. “Yeah,” Harry sighed tiredly. “I think you’re right.”

Harry stood up from his seat on the hard ground, stretching his legs before following Malfoy back into the main part of his shop. He wrote a quick note for Bethany, letting her know he’d clean up his mess at a later date, hoping she wouldn’t be too upset. He knew she’d more than likely get her hair off at the mess, being the tidy freak she was. Following this, Harry made sure his shop was locked before he nodded to Malfoy and the two of them Apparated away.

***

After telling Kingsley what they’d discovered from reading the ledgers, he had nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face. They’d spent the next few hours going over the details of their findings, telling Kingsley they’d run into a proverbial brick wall.

Kingsley frowned at this latest piece of news, but had seemed to accept their report. Before Harry and Malfoy could get up to leave his office, Kingsley told them about the recent reports he’d received from Auror Intelligence, informing the two of them about the next possible target: the Malfoys.

Draco had to use all his self-restraint then to keep from running out to find this budding Dark Lord alone. He really didn’t want to put his parents through the emotional turmoil of possible death once again at the hands of a deranged madman, but there was no other way to keep them safe, unless they were put into protective custody. He knew his parents wouldn’t go through with that no matter how much their lives were in danger.

Harry was wary of the reception he’d receive from Malfoy’s parents since they had a bad history together. Not to mention, setting foot inside of their home that he’d been held hostage in.

Draco hadn’t been home in over six months, and as much as he worshipped his parents, he still needed a moment to mentally prepare himself to deal with them. Every time he returned for a visit, his father would interrogate him about his chosen career. He wasn’t against it, per se, but Draco knew it hadn’t been what his parents had wanted for him. He sighed softly to himself as he turned, raising an eyebrow as he saw Potter giving him an odd look. He shook it off and Apparated to his home, knowing the ex-Gryffindor would follow.

They reappeared just outside the main gates of Malfoy Manor. It looked the same as it had over ten years ago when Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been brought here to see Voldemort. Looking past the wrought-iron gates, Harry spotted the same albino peacock prancing around the yew hedges as he’d seen last time. He turned to look at Malfoy, waiting for him to open the gates to let them inside.

Draco pulled his wand out, waving it at the gates while he mumbled a spell to open them. They stood back as the gates slowly opened, making an ominous creaking noise. Draco turned to stare at Potter as the grating sound made them both wince. “Doesn’t look like my parents venture outside much,” he stated, shaking his head.

“Or they just need a really good oiling,” Harry responded, grinning.

Once the gates fully opened, Draco led the way up the stone path, past the peacock, and up to the front door. Draco rummaged through the pockets of his trousers, patting himself down as he searched for the key. Turning, he noticed Potter’s bewildered look. “My parents use wards around the perimeter of the property, so they don’t worry much about the front door, opting to just lock it,” he explained. “Here we go,” he announced, finding the key at last.

As soon as the door was open, Malfoy gestured for him to go in first. Harry hesitated a moment before stepping inside. He looked around the huge foyer in awe at the magnitude and sheer size of the entrance. An elegant wooden table was set against the shiny white wall: a dozen red roses were nestled inside a light blue vase, which rested atop the shiny oak surface as the centrepiece.

There were portraits lining the walls, which Harry presumed were Malfoy’s ancestors. Harry stared in curiosity at the portraits as they glowered down at him, cursing loudly in their direction. He scowled back at them, opening his mouth to retort when he heard Malfoy close the door and relock it, before shouting in irritation up at the portraits, “Will you lot shut up! You’re giving me a headache!”

Harry smiled lightly in gratitude at Malfoy, highly impressed when the portraits stopped their shouting, instead, mumbling and huffing down at them. Harry then followed sedately after Malfoy as they moved further inside, the dark-haired man noticing the white stone flooring, accented with what looked to Harry to be an Asian-made carpet. You can just feel the snobbery oozing out of the walls, Harry thought. They came to a stop at the bottom of a broad, stone staircase, at which Harry tilted his head back to see how far up it went. He was startled out of his perusal by Malfoy’s sudden shout up the stairs.

“Mother? I’m home!” Draco called, hand gripping the banister. He sniggered gleefully when he saw Potter’s shocked expression. “What?”

“Nothing,” Harry said offhandedly, shrugging his shoulders. He turned suddenly at the sound of footsteps at the top of the staircase, glancing up to see Narcissa Malfoy looking as regally poised as she ever did. She stared down at them as she moved, making Harry feel self-conscious as she scrutinised him.

Harry wasn’t sure if he was ready for this. Even though it had been a long time since he had dealt with Malfoy’s parents, he knew it’d take more than his Gryffindor courage to keep himself from hiding behind Malfoy for protection. Of course, he stood his ground as she came upon them; he wasn’t a coward … even if he felt like one at the moment.

“Draco,” Narcissa elegantly greeted, lifting the hem of her red velvet dress before she descended the staircase. “It’s good to see you again.” She reached the bottom of the steps, pausing a moment before giving her son a brief hug. “How are you? I trust work is treating you well?”

“I’m fine,” Draco started, unconsciously shifting to stand in front of Potter. “As well as can be expected.”

Harry peered over Draco’s shoulder at Narcissa, watching as her expression went blank at noticing him behind her son. “I see you brought Mr Potter with you.” He heard her cool, clear voice say.

“Yes, Mother.” Draco replied, and moved to the side to reveal the man behind him.

I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, Harry thought sarcastically as he watched the exchange between mother and son, deciding to keep quiet.

“Why?” she questioned, regarding Harry with coolly suspicious eyes.

“Because the Ministry received reports from Auror Intelligence that you and Father were in danger,” Draco informed, sharing a look with Potter, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there at the moment.

“Danger,” Narcissa began skeptically, arching an eyebrow. “What type of danger?”

“We believe some madman, who’s trying to become the next Dark Lord, has his sights set on murdering all of the ex-Death Eaters,” Harry jumped in, hoping to save Draco from having to share the unfortunate news himself.

“Really?” Narcissa replied doubtfully, staring at Harry before turning to her son. “Draco, why would someone we don’t know, want us dead? You know your father and I have kept to ourselves these last few years.”

“I know, Mother,” Draco stated tiredly, nodding. “But I don’t think this person cares.”

“Have you mentioned any of this to your father?”

Draco shook his head, sighing. “Not yet. I thought you two might be targets, but I didn’t know for sure until it was confirmed by Kingsley.”

“I see,” Narcissa replied calmly, a frown marring her lovely face. “Your father’s upstairs in his study. You will have to tell him about this,” she said solemnly, turning to go up the steps.

“Um … I think I’ll wait down here,” Harry said hastily, stepping back from mother and son. “I don’t think I’d be welcomed.”

Narcissa opened her mouth, then closed it, a thoughtful look crossing her features as if she thought better of what she’d been about to say. Instead, she responded with, “You have nothing to fear from my husband, Mr Potter.”

Harry hesitated, unsure whether or not he could trust Draco’s mother. He turned to see the ex-Slytherin shrug lightly, most likely unsure himself. This didn’t make Harry feel any better about the situation. After a moment passed, with both Malfoys waiting for his answer, Harry sighed in resignation. “All right, I’ll come with you,” he relented, moving forward to follow Narcissa.

As the three of them made their way upstairs, Harry mentally prepared himself for the encounter with Lucius Malfoy. With everything that had happened in the past, he wasn’t sure if he’d be welcomed to some degree, or if he’d have to duck and run as spells were hurled at him. Harry shook his head, sighing to himself as he vaguely took in the high ceiling, yet more portraits of Malfoy ancestors and a long rug running down the length of the hallway. They soon came to an ornate wooden door with serpents of all breeds carved into the wood. Narcissa knocked once before turning the snakehead doorknob and letting them inside.

Harry stood behind Draco, gazing over his shoulder at the massive study. Bookcases lined every wall, making it look as if they were the walls. To their left sat an ornate marble fireplace, a roaring fire crackling merrily behind a black, cast-iron grate.

Harry moved further in with the others, pausing as he caught sight of Lucius, sitting regally in an overstuffed chair, feet propped up on a puffy ottoman, and holding what looked to be the Daily Prophet.

“Draco,” Lucius greeted, not bothering to lower the paper. “It’s good to see you, Son.”

“Likewise, Father,” Draco replied warmly, a slight smile emerging as he moved closer to him.

Lucius turned a page, sighing a little as he asked, “Still in that Auror business, Draco?”

Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance, letting out a quiet breath of exasperation. “Yes, Father.”

Lucius scoffed at Draco, breathing out noisily through his nose. “I suppose it’s good for something, then.”

“It is,” Draco replied, trying to keep himself from fidgeting. He gave his father a weary look—they’d had this discussion more or less before.

“And a liaison or solicitor would not have made you just as content?”

Draco crossed his arms, sighing. “No, Father.”

“Hmph.” Harry watched as Lucius finally lowered the paper, gazing at his son. He could see pride shining brightly in his grey eyes, as he looked Draco up and down. Harry jumped, startled, as he was suddenly addressed. “Mr Potter,” Lucius acknowledged, face blanking into a stony mask as he looked from Harry to Draco, “What brings you here?” he asked, suspicion evident in his tone.

Harry glanced at Draco a moment before answering. “I’ve been recruited by the Ministry to help your son with his investigation.”

“And what investigation would that be?”

“Father, there’s someone after You-Know-Who’s old followers, which means you and Mother by proxy are in danger of being next,” Draco replied, a worried look settling over his face.

“Nonsense,” Lucius huffed, folding the Daily Prophet and placing it on a nearby table. “We rarely leave the mansion anymore, unless your mother is outside working in her garden. We have house-elves to procure anything we need, Son. So, why in Merlin’s name would anyone come looking for us? We keep to ourselves.”

“Mr Malfoy,” Harry began, moving away from his companion. “We should get you into protective custody. This man and his followers are dangerous.”

“Potter, the Malfoy family has survived countless Dark Lords and looming threats for over fifteen generations, and we will survive this one too,” Lucius replied. Harry watched as he stood up from his chair and walked to the window where he could see a few alcoholic drinks sitting in a row along the windowsill.

“While I’m sure that’s true,” Harry said, sighing out loud—the man was just as infuriating as his son. “It would be in you and your wife’s best interest.”

Draco looked pleadingly at his mother. “Can’t you convince him?” he whispered.

“It’s your father’s decision, dear,” she replied, turning away to watch the exchange between her husband and Potter. Draco rolled his eyes, and threw his hands into the air.

“Potter, we never thanked you for ensuring our son survived,” Lucius said, taking a sip from his glass. Harry blinked in shock. “So, thank you, and you may go. We are not leaving our home for anyone.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond to this, but was interrupted when a loud screeching noise rang throughout the mansion. His hands flew to cover his ears, cursing at the sudden pain. “What in Merlin’s name is that?”

Draco was so keyed up, he ripped a huge hole in his robes as he went for his wand. “Someone’s breached the wards! They’re here!”

Narcissa walked quickly over to her husband, standing by him as a blast rocked through the mansion and portraits fell from the wall. “What are they doing out there?”

“I-it sounds like they’re using explosives,” Harry replied with trepidation. He turned quickly to Draco as another detonation shook the foundation. “Malfoy, how secure is the manor?”

“Without the wards and spells? Not very,” Draco breathlessly replied, ducking as plaster fell from the ceiling. “But it’d take an army to break through.”

Harry ran to the window, peering around the corner so the men outside wouldn’t spot him. “Well,” he said blandly, feeling the blood drain from his face, “there’s an army outside.”

They were hit by another explosion, raining down more plaster and covering everyone in a fine dusting of white. Harry turned to the elder Malfoys. “Come on, we’ve got to get you two to a safer part of the mansion.”

Draco spun towards his parents. “Mother, Father, go down to the cellar while Harry and I keep them at bay.”

“Draco, we are not going to run away and leave our only son to die.” Lucius replied stubbornly, pulling out his wand.

Draco rounded on his father, giving him an irritated look. “Father, I’m not asking you: I’m telling you, go down into the cellar … now!”

Evidently, Lucius was not pleased with his son, if the look he threw Draco served any indication. “Do as he says!” Harry yelled as he ran past them, heading down to the main floor as they heard the door make an ominous screech from the strain of spell bombardment.

Draco stared at his parents in impatience while they stood where they were for long moments before finally doing as they were told, moving swiftly out of the study and hopefully heading to the cellar to hide. Draco ran downstairs after Potter, setting as many Protection Spells as he could to try and buy them time before the men outside broke through.

Another flash had them running for cover as the windows shattered, showering glass everywhere. Harry pulled his own wand out, helping to strengthen the wards Draco was hurriedly erecting around the door. They backed up quickly as the door bulged inwards and dropped hard to the floor, hands flying to cover their heads as it exploded, spraying bits of wood and metal.

Harry gasped loudly, clutching his arm to his chest, as a chunk of wood slammed into him. He moved his arm, glad to find it wasn’t broken, but feeling it had probably been badly bruised. He couldn’t think about that at the moment; he had to stay alive to protect the Malfoys. He focused on channelling all his magic and energy through his wand to keep the men from spilling into the foyer.

They jumped to their feet, crouching as they flung spells at the men converging through the doorway, shooting off hexes one by one. “Stupefy!” Harry yelled, hitting one man in the chest. Harry watched as he sprawled to the ground, trampled by his fellows.

Draco shot a curse at one man, sprouting boils from his face and hands that made him howl in rage and run into the wall, blinded by oozing puss. Harry and Draco backed up against the far wall as they cast spell after spell in their efforts to hold off the intruders.

“Never thought I’d die alongside you, Potter,” Draco said sardonically, tossing more jinxes at the men as he cast a glance at his companion.

Harry cast more of his own hexes, glimpsing out of the corner of his eye at Malfoy. “My sentiments exactly. It’s been … different,” he replied, gearing for his death. It was inevitable at the rate their enemies were converging inside.

“I’ll say,” Draco replied distractedly, casting another Stunner. He caught movement from the corner of his eye suddenly, and had turned slightly to get a better look, when he gasped in surprise. On their left, men were beginning to fall of their own accord. Draco didn’t know what was going on—were these men fighting each other now…caught up in their frenzy?

He moved closer to Potter, craning his head to look out the doorway, when a familiar, dark-skinned, bald head came into sight. “Kingsley!” Draco shouted, relieved. He felt a new sense of confidence and fervency and moved forward to renew the fight. Harry followed, casting Stunning Spells at the men left inside the manor.

Harry and Draco watched as the beaten men were rounded up and arrested by the Aurors milling about. “Job well done, gentlemen.” They turned suddenly to watch the approach of a grinning Kingsley.

Harry had never been more pleased to see Kingsley than he was at that moment. He swiped his forearm across his face, wiping the sweat and dirt away, smiling in relief at seeing the Head Auror. “How’d you know we’d need you?”

Kingsley stepped over a fallen enemy. “We had an undercover Auror nearby, watching the manor, keeping an eye out.” He turned to one of his Aurors, whispering quickly to him before the Auror ran off. “We weren’t sure if they would strike, but we didn’t want to take a chance.”

Harry was a bit shaken from everything that had happened; yet glad he survived another battle. He stared at Kingsley a moment before asking, “Can I leave now? I’m knackered.”

“I don’t see why not,” Kingsley replied before turning to address Draco. “Escort him home. Secure the area, and make sure there’s nothing that will cause a backlash.”

Draco frowned, opening his mouth to retort when Potter interrupted him.

Harry crossed his arms, eyebrows scrunched in anger as he glowered at Kingsley. “I’m not a child, you know. I can take care of myself.” He snapped with a scowl.

“I’m sorry, Harry, but after today, I’m not taking any chances. I want Draco to go with you to ensure you’ll be safe,” Kingsley affirmed, standing his ground. “It’s standard procedure.”

“Sir, what about my parents? They’re still down in the cellar,” Draco enquired, fidgeting with his wand.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, his parents?’

“They’ll be fine. I’ll have my team place them in protective custody until we get to the bottom of this case.” Kingsley placed a friendly hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Take Harry home and make sure he’ll be safe.”

“Yes, sir.” Draco sighed, determined to do his job.

Harry curled his hands into fists, anger and fury nearly getting the best of him. He knew it was stupid, but he wasn’t a damned child. He defeated Voldemort when he was seventeen; he was pretty sure he could take care of himself. “Fine,” he hissed, Apparating away from Malfoy Manor and to his flat with a sharp, angry crack.

Draco sighed loudly, giving his boss a cross ‘see what I have to put up with?’ look. He was glad the fighting was over, his parents were safely taken into protective custody, and he hoped they wouldn’t put up too much of a fuss. They weren’t going to be thrilled with being taken from their home, that much was certain.

***

Harry reappeared inside his flat first, followed by Malfoy a few minutes later, who ducked as a picture frame fell from the wall: another indication of Harry’s anger. “I’m home now, Malfoy,” he hissed through gritted teeth at the blond. “You can leave.”

Draco crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Sorry, Potter, but Shacklebolt will have my arse if I don’t do as he ordered.”

Harry’s nostrils flared in anger as he pulled out his wand, storming through his flat and casting Detection Charms around, making sure there was nothing amiss. He was highly annoyed to find Malfoy had removed his own wand to do likewise. “You know, I can take care of myself,” Harry snapped. “I’m not fucking helpless.”

“Spare me, Potter. It’ll take less time if we both do this,” Draco replied, ignoring the icy scowl thrown his way.

Harry growled, turning away from Malfoy as he stormed off into his bedroom, muttering obscenities under his breath. As soon as he finished checking the room, he came back out into the sitting room to find Malfoy, waving his wand about over the mantlepiece of his small fireplace.

Draco sighed and turned to give Potter an annoyed look. “Oh, shut up, will you?” he snapped. “You’re acting like a toddler. Need me to change your nappy, Potter?”

“Fuck you!” Harry snarled, turning to walk away when he felt Malfoy’s hand close around his arm. “Let … go, Malfoy,” he hissed, scowling furiously at him.

“Potter, you’ve got a huge bruise on your arm. Let me heal it,” Draco said calmly, his Auror training kicking in as much as he didn’t want it to.

Harry yanked his arm out of Malfoy’s grasp. “I can bloody well take care of it myself!”

Draco scowled; he had enough of Potter’s temper tantrum. In a fit of anger, Draco captured Potter’s face in his hands, silencing the infuriating man with a hard press of his lips against Harry’s. After a while, Draco pulled back when Potter didn’t return the kiss, and silence fell between them as they stared at each other in shock. Draco couldn’t believe he’d actually kissed Potter, and cast a wary look at the other man, hoping he wouldn’t hex his cock off for daring to kiss him.

Harry stood there, gaping. What on earth was that about? It wasn’t that he hadn’t liked it, but he just didn’t know why Draco had done it. He’d felt his trousers go tight just from that brief press of lips; the blond before him was actually quite—actually, very attractive—and he suddenly wanted more. Harry was still angry at being treated like a child who couldn’t take care of himself, but he knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was standing right in front of him.

Draco’s eyes widened in surprise, and he made a shocked noise in the back of his throat as Potter suddenly lunged for him. Harry’s tongue quested past his shock-parted lips, one hand fisted in his robes while the fingers of his other hand yanked at his blond hair, holding his head in place as the man devoured him. Draco moaned into his mouth as he felt the rough tug, and felt his legs wanting to slide out from under him.

Draco felt Harry’s tongue slide against his own, withdrawing to trail wetly against his lips, before dipping back in. Harry moaned hotly into his mouth, eliciting a moan in return as his hold tightened. The ex-Slytherin gave a pained grunt as Harry’s teeth nearly missed clamping onto his tongue, saving it from being severed in half as he took over the kiss. He slid his hands down to Harry's arse and jerked him roughly close, and grinding his erection into the other’s.

Harry groaned loudly as groin met groin, and sighed as he rubbed himself hard against the blond. What were they doing? This wasn’t right. He gasped loudly as he felt Draco’s hands squeezing and kneading his arse. I take that back—oh, God, keep doing that.

As an idea bubbled to life in his mind, Draco whirled Harry around and began to push him backwards towards the bedroom door. His tongue practically cleaned the ex-Gryffindor’s teeth as his hands desperately sought skin beneath Potter’s shirt, eliciting a drawn out moan from him that made his cock twitch expectantly.

His nose suddenly collided with Harry’s cheek, harder than he would have liked, as they bumped hard into the sofa, stalling their advance to the bedroom. Draco pulled away from the other man as he stumbled out of the way, taking a much-needed breath. Where’s the damn bedroom? Draco thought frantically as they took a moment to round the sofa before he grabbed the front of the black shirt and pulled Harry's lips back to his, continuing their passionate snog as he revelled in the heat of the other against his body.

Draco’s hands—their hands—were everywhere. Tugging at each other’s clothes, skin feverish and glistening with sweat as they advanced to the bedroom. That was, until Draco felt a jolt, sudden pain blossoming in his left knee; the coffee table. Draco heard a crash—they must have upturned something—Potter really shouldn’t pack his furniture so close together. He jerked as he felt his foot slide across the carpet as he stepped on something slippery—a magazine? Their fingers laced together, just like their tongues, hands knocking a lamp aside in their haste; they were so close to the door now.

Draco pushed forward faster, coming up short as they hit the wall instead. If only it were more to the left—who designed this place anyway? And were Potter’s thighs sliding around his waist…? He moaned deeply as Harry’s hands scratched at his back, likely leaving welts. Draco barely kept himself from toppling them over when he felt the man’s mouth sucking wet kisses down his neck as he reached for the doorknob.

He sighed out—both in relief at finally getting the door open and from Harry nibbling at his neck. Draco shuffled forward, staggering under the weight of Harry clinging to him, as he moved toward the bed. He dropped Harry unceremoniously onto the mattress, barely hearing the “oof!” he made—he watched him bounce a few times--before removing his clothes at break neck speed. He looked up to see Potter doing the same, trousers and pants hanging off one ankle, shirt hiked up to his neck, glasses thrown towards the bedside table. Draco closed his eyes, fighting the urge to come just from that sight alone. Potter didn’t know how hot he was.

Harry’s eyes went wide as Draco jumped onto the bed, leaning over him to seal their mouths together in another hot and sloppy kiss with saliva running down the sides of Harry’s mouth. It felt like he was trying to suck out Harry’s tonsils. He opened his mouth to Draco’s insistent tongue, moaning as he sucked wetly on it.

Writhing in heat and arousal as Draco laid on top of him. Harry sighed in disappointment as Draco pulled away, leaning over the side of the bed to open the top drawer of his bedside table, anxiously rifling around inside. Harry assumed Draco was looking for the bottle of lotion he kept there. Harry moaned deeply, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth; he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Hurry up,” Harry groaned as he ran his hands up Draco’s smooth abs while he searched. Harry got his hands knocked to the side as the blond moved back on top of him, and ground their erections together. Harry moaned loudly, sucking at Draco’s earlobe while he worked at the cap of the bottle, trying to get it open. Harry was desperate and he wanted Draco now!

Draco pulled his eyes away long enough to get the lid open, squeezing out a handful of the flowery smelling stuff, as he reached down to his cock and smeared it along his length. Scooting down the bed, he grabbed Potter’s left leg—removing the dangling trousers and pants with mild amusement—and pushed it towards his chest, spreading him wide open as he moved his lotion-filled hand down to Harry’s arse.

“Come on, come on!” Harry grabbed the backs of his knees, bringing them as close to his chest as he could to splay himself wider for Draco. He tightened his hold on his legs and threw his head back, moaning in pure ecstasy as he felt one of Draco’s lotion-covered fingers pressing insistently at his entrance. He relaxed his muscles, letting the finger inside, relishing in the feel of the slick intruder, impatient to have a cock inside of him: stretching him, feeling the burn of friction.

Draco pulled his finger out, quickly replacing it with two fingers, impatient to feel Potter’s body clenching around his cock instead. Determining the man under him was ready, he pulled his fingers out with a wet popping noise, gripped his cock, and steadied it as he finally pushed in. Oh, sweet Merlin, Harry was so tight.

Harry gasped from the intrusion, hands going above his head—shirt hiking up further--as he tightly gripped the headboard, knuckles going white. He felt Draco lean down, placing a quick kiss on his lips before pulling back, hands going to the backs of his thighs as the Auror began thrusting, filling his arse.

“Ah!” Harry cried, holding on as Draco’s punishing grip got tighter the harder and faster he slammed into his body. Harry felt Draco’s sac slapping against his arse, hot and wet sucking noises coming from their rough coupling. The sounds alone were driving Harry insane. “Fuck!” He yelled out as Draco shifted, hitting his prostate hard.

Draco picked up speed, thrusting and thrusting, tightening his grip, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He put everything into his hips as he moved, encouraging Harry. “Yes … clench tighter … oh God, like that....”

Harry squeezed down on the cock inside him as hard as he could clenching and unclenching; his breath coming out in hot pants as he let go of the headboard and brought a hand down to fist his leaking cock, twisting the sensitive head. He stroked himself hard and fast, trying to match the pace Draco was setting with his hips, and choking back cries as his prostate was continuously slammed, over and over. Harry was lost, forgetting everything that had happened the last few days and concentrating solely on the cock plowing into him.

Draco didn’t stop his relentless pounding, pushing, and pulling, faster and faster, as he moved. He opened his eyes, looking down as he felt Harry’s hand brushing against his groin to wank himself as he was fucked. It was hot, it was tight—God, just the sight alone of Potter pulling himself made Draco want to come, but not yet. Not yet.

After another wicked thrust against his prostate, Harry stiffened—arsehole clenching spasmodically around Draco’s cock—and cried out as he came in hot stringy spurts, bursting white onto his chest, groaning as a bit hit him under his chin. He tried catching his breath as Draco continued to pound into him. Harry opened his eyes, not realising he’d closed them, to see Draco arch his back, neck tilted—his sweaty blond hair sticking to his forehead in clumps—as he felt him come.

Draco stiffened, groaning low in his throat as he emptied himself into Harry’s velvet-tight heat. He relaxed after a moment, leaning down to capture Harry’s moist lips in a fiery kiss and feeling the man’s come sliding between their chests. He moved away from Harry’s lips, pulling out slowly, looking down at his softening cock, moist and glistening, and watching as his seed oozed out of the man’s body, running down the backs of his thighs onto the sheets. Draco collapsed next to the dark-haired man, chest heaving as he caught his breath.

Harry lowered his legs slowly, trying to get the feeling back into them as he languidly rolled onto his side to face Draco. He propped his head on his hand, leaning over for one last kiss, and then pulled away to smile at the man. “That was fantastic,” Harry purred, a yawn interrupting him as he stretched. “So, what brought that on? I thought you hated me?”

Draco drowsily opened an eye, looking sleepily at Harry. “You were being a spoiled bitch. Thought the kiss would shut you up. Wasn’t expecting the shag, though,” Draco replied, closing his eye again. “I don’t know. During school I hated your guts. Now, though … I suppose it was mostly out of habit to argue with you.”

Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “So, what now?” he asked, sitting up a moment to remove his shirt. He used it to wipe the come from his body before tossing it to the floor and lying back down. He was surprised to feel Draco turn and press himself closer, almost snuggling.

“Honestly, I had no idea me coming over here was going to lead to shagging. I was just following my orders before this happened.”

Harry sighed and closed his eyes as he sleepily snuggled back. “I know,” Harry whispered in reply, letting the even breathing of Draco lull him to sleep.

***

Harry awoke to the feeling of a very hot, wet mouth sucking his cock. He blinked sleepily, thinking he was still dreaming at first. That was until he raised his head from his stack of pillows and looked down the length of his body to find a head full of silver-blond hair. He sighed contently, bringing a hand to that moving head and feeling the silky strands of hair between his fingers as Draco moved up and down.

Draco pulled back, pushing back the foreskin to swirl his tongue along the head, licking up precome from the slit already beginning to ooze from Harry’s excitement. He pushed the cock in his hand towards Harry’s chest, lowering his head to lick along the length from root to tip and back down, enjoying the moans and gasps he elicited from Harry.

Harry arched up, and felt Draco hold his hips down so he couldn’t choke him from bucking wildly into his mouth. “God,” Harry moaned, digging his head back into the pillow, running a hand through Draco’s hair, gripping, pulling. “That’s good.”

Draco licked up the length of the cock in his hand--pink tongue dipping in and out of the slit, lapping up the precome leaking out--before lowering his head to take the entire thing into his mouth, scraping his teeth lightly as he came up, then sucking hard as he moved back down. He was enjoying this, sucking cock, feeling the vein underneath slide against his tongue as he bobbed his head. Hearing Harry’s moans drove him wild, so much so that he reached down to his own hot and hard cock to fist it in tandem to what he was doing.

“Draco, I’m going to come,” Harry warned. He pushed at Draco’s head to try to get him to pull away, but he stubbornly refused to move, instead, deep-throating him. Harry’s toes curled and his back arched as he came in hot spurts inside Draco’s mouth, panting for breath as the blond pulled back. Harry moaned, licking his red, moist lips.

Draco sprawled back, legs akimbo as he worked faster at his own needy erection, alternating between squeezing and wanking as he tried to come. He watched as Harry sat up and leaned over, mouth opening wide to catch his release. The sight of Harry wanting to taste his come made Draco gasp to the point of pain as he shot into the waiting mouth, getting a few drops along the man’s chin and cheek.

Draco panted for breath, watching Harry swallow and lick his lips, giving him an evil grin. “Fuck, that was hot. I’ve never come quite like that before,” he said breathlessly, swiping a hand through his loose, sweaty hair.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly as he sat back, leaning over his knees. “The mood hit me. Someone decided to wake me up with a blowjob. I wonder who that could have been?” he said, grinning cheekily at Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes, moving to lie on his back with his head towards the footboard. “So, here’s an out of the blue question.”

“Hmm?”

“What made the great Harry Potter decide to not only leave the wizarding world behind, but to open a fetish shop, too?” Draco enquired, moving his arm to cover his eyes, feeling Harry snuggle up against his side, and run a finger along his chest.

“Well,” Harry began, propping his head in his hand, “after the war, I had strangers coming up to me to congratulate me on vanquishing Voldemort. This wasn’t too bad at first, since it was supposed to be a new beginning for wizard-kind. People wanted to thank me for saving their lives, or their family’s lives.” He sighed, thinking of what to say next. “Then the letters began pouring in: parents asking me to marry their daughters—this was especially bad after I broke it off with Ginny. I couldn’t leave the house without someone stopping me to ask for my autograph or want to take a picture.”

“Always thought you’d like that sort of thing—ow!” Draco laughingly quipped, rubbing at the arm smack from Harry.

“Anyway,” Harry continued. “I decided to leave, living amongst Muggles instead since they’d never heard of me. I never wanted to be famous in the first place.”

“And your reason for the shop?”

“Ah, that’s a bit more complicated,” Harry said with a sigh, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure when it started, but I remember taking a year off after the war, but before living amongst Muggles. I was feeling lonely … out of place, and I couldn’t go to Ron or Hermione since they were working out their new relationship. So one day I decided to check out a club—”

“Club Infinity?”

“Yes,” Harry answered. “There were other clubs of course, but I always found myself going back there. The back room, where we found those victims, was used as a theme room of sorts. One week would be spankings; another would be … say, an orgy. The thing is, it opened my eyes, and brought out the inner kink I didn’t know I had. So, needing a job of some sort, but not trusting others at the time, I used some of my money I received from my parents, and opened the shop.”

“So, pretty cut and dry, then?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Harry conceded.

Draco sat up suddenly, stretching his arms above his head. “You mind if I use your shower? I’m sure I’m beginning to smell a bit ripe.”

“Fine.” Harry shrugged. “Just be careful, the hot water likes to shift to cold suddenly,” Harry replied, sitting up as well. “While you shower, I’m going to head down to Tesco. I’m out of food for the week, and I’m starving.” He looked questioningly at Draco. “Would you like something to eat? I don’t know if you’re still on duty or not.”

“I don’t have to work today or tomorrow. Kingsley sent an owl while you were sleeping, giving me some time off,” Draco explained.

Harry grabbed his glasses off the bedside table and placed them onto his face. “All right,” he began, picking up his clothes from the floor and getting dressed. “It shouldn’t take me more than thirty or forty minutes at the supermarket. Will you be here when I get back?”

“Do you want me to be?” Draco countered, sitting on the edge of the bed as he looked questioningly up at Harry.

Harry smiled lightly. “I wouldn’t mind it. I could probably pick something up for breakfast if you’re interested?”

“Okay, I’ll be here.”

Harry laughed lightly. “Oh,” he said suddenly, moving to his wardrobe. He emerged with a set of silver rings. “If for any reason you need to get hold of me,” he began, “Just use this.”

Draco accepted the ring, giving Harry a cheeky grin before placing it on the index finger of his right hand as Harry had. "Two shags and already a proposal? I know I'm good, but—"

“I'm not proposing, you berk,” Harry replied with a laugh. “I got the idea from Muggle mobiles. It’s spelled to let you communicate with one another just like they do via the phones,” Harry explained. “It doesn’t last very long, maybe five minutes worth of conversation before it peters out. But if you need me for anything, just think my name, wait for me to respond, and then you can talk normally.”

“I’m impressed, Potter. I thought Granger was the one with the brains.”

“I have my moments,” Harry replied cheekily, grinning.

Draco rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “So, I see. Now, run along; I’m actually a bit hungry myself.”

“All right, see you in a while.” Harry made his way out of the bedroom, grabbing his coat along the way and left his flat, heading down the street to the supermarket, leaving Draco alone.

***

Harry took his time as he walked to Tesco, enjoying the scenery since the supermarket wasn’t very far from his flat. He looked through shop windows as he passed each one, stopping occasionally for a few moments to gaze at an item or two that caught his fancy. He continued on his way, but suddenly paused when he heard his name called from behind him.

“Potter.”

Harry turned around, blinking in surprise when he saw who it was. “Oh, hello, Officer Jameson,” he greeted. “What are you up to?”

“I was looking for you, actually,” Jameson replied. “I have important information I need to tell you.”

Harry scrunched his eyebrows, looking at Jameson curiously. “Me? Wouldn’t it make more sense to give this information to Draco, or maybe even Kingsley? I assume it’s work related,” he asked suspiciously.

“I understand, but this can’t wait. Maybe you can pass this along to them, you know, kill two birds with one stone,” Jameson said. “Are you free at the moment? This won’t take very long.”

Harry eyed Jameson apprehensively, uncertain. He wasn’t sure why Jameson thought it was better to tell him, especially since he wasn’t an official Auror, just a helper. After a moment, he mentally shrugged and nodded at Jameson. The man had been Draco’s old lover, he had to be somewhat trustworthy, right? “So what is it you need to tell me?”

“Not here,” Jameson replied, looking around. “Too many ears.”

“All right,” Harry conceded, frowning. “Where do you want to go?”

Jameson tilted his head towards an alley nearby. “Down there,” he said, turning towards the shadowed passage.

Harry paused for only a moment, an uneasy feeling overtaking him once more. He shook his head and took a deep breath. They were only chatting, nothing to be concerned about. Harry pulled out his wand as a precaution before moving down the alley, feeling the man behind him as he went. “Okay, what’s this—”

He had turned to face Jameson when he was blind-sided by a punch to his face that sent him sprawling backwards; he grunted in pain as his head hit the asphalt.

“Sorry, but Father will be most pleased when I bring you to him.” Harry overheard as he fought the blackness of unconsciousness before succumbing and passing out.

***