A Dark Time For The Light

31

The following day, Draco got the fright of his life. He was at the top of a scaffolding tower, pressed almost completely into the ceiling when he heard familiar tones that made his blood run cold. Then the Duchess’ words, “Oh, this boy works miracles. The Gallery will be beautiful when this team are done and it’s mainly the work of this boy. He made a big impression at his last job, he’s the talk of the Restoration circuit. This boy’s got natural talent”. The familiar voice enquired, “Oh, do you think I could talk him into doing the Lestrange House?”. Draco was frozen in place.

Surreptitiously, Draco tucked his hair beneath his cap and hoped his employer didn’t call him down from his eyrie. He felt their scrutiny as he worked, heard, “No, let’s not disturb him, shall we? He seems to be absorbed in his work. You can speak to him later”, and breathed a sigh of relief as they passed on.

That night he called Harry in a panic. Harry picked up, delighted to hear from his beloved. His expression changed as he heard Draco’s news. “Bellatrix and Rodolfo?”, he shrieked. Draco quailed, “I know. It’s doing my head in. The worst thing is, the Duchess wants to recommend me to her. Shit, Harry. What do I do now?”. Harry was at a loss, so far away.

All he could do was try to calm his beloved which turned into steamy phone sex in minutes. They came murmuring filth into each other’s ears, but it didn’t solve Draco’s problem. All Harry could say was, “Stay away from her as much as you can, and if you can’t avoid her, then take ill or something. Can I come up again, next weekend, love?”. Draco chuckled, “Not on your life, babe, this time I come home”.

Harry was waiting for him at Euston. His train had run into problems and was over 2 hours late. But Harry’s grin as they ran into each other’s arms was worth every moment of delay, and, sod where they were, they kissed deeply before making their way to the taxi rank.

He had the taxi drop them at the takeaway, then bought copious amounts of food before they went back to the flat. They fed each other then took each other, the urgency almost overcoming them, Harry inching into his Dragon slowly, his lover undoing beneath him, then plunging and taking, coming together and collapsing in a sweaty giggling heap.

The next day, the boys shopped. They had a large amount of flat-pack furniture delivered. Which they spent the rest of the day assembling, then assimilating into their new home. A bed, a sofa, armchairs, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a bookcase.

Draco was tired and petulant so Harry took him to bed and they fucked each other happy again, Draco shouting aloud as he released deep into Harry. Harry sighing softly as he came between their bellies. Harry knew that this latest assignment of Draco’s was going to test them, but as he sank into his beloved’s arms, he had no idea how much.

He saw his beloved onto the train on Sunday afternoon and stood, disconsolate, as it pulled away. He waved until it was a dot in the distance then turned away, the now-familiar loneliness sinking into the pit of his stomach. Bollocks to this, he thought, and in half an hour was knocking at the entrance to the Bunker.

The others had been leaving the two to get settled into their new home and had had gentle hints for invites equally gently rebuffed. Harry wanted to show off his new home, but not until it was furnished and ready to receive guests. Draco felt the same way.

The girls welcomed him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Harry responded warmly. There was a letter waiting for him from Ron which he tore into with delight. A couple of photos spilled out. One of the three of them, the baby asleep in Ron’s arms, Blaise’s around his beloved. The look they shared could have melted glass. The second had Ron holding his baby girl. Both looked directly into the lens of the camera. The baby’s eyes were deep blue, just like Ron’s. His best friend’s expression was a mixture of total awe and deep love. After showing the pictures around ‘their’ table in the canteen, Harry tucked them into his pocket along with the letter which he would re-read later that night.

He spent a pleasant evening with the girls and Dean and Seamus. Hermione was excited. Sometime during the week, a new family had arrived and were busy getting settled in. A muggle man and his two Magical children. After the War, Don Soames’ wife had run, and he was left to care for their two children, Barry and Ruth. The boy would be in his second year at Hogwart’s had he been able to attend and his sister should by rights be an excited first-year enjoying the delights of school and Magic, now denied to them both. While all sympathised with the family’s plight, Don was in work, he drove for a living and had held a Muggle driving licence for many years.

“Bloody hell, ‘Mione. Severus will be so pissed off”. Hermione regarded her best friend levelly, “Look, Don has already agreed to help, he’s only too pleased to have shelter for his kids. Besides, Severus couldn’t carry all this freight on his bike, now, could he?”, she waved her arm at the stack of boxes that had lain in the corner of the canteen for some weeks now gathering dust.

“Anyway”, she continued, “It’s going to need me and Ibrahim, and I go nowhere without my Girlie, not now I’ve found her again”. She squeezed Ginny gently around the middle and kissed her cheek, then drew away, “Merlin, I could do with Josie’s help. She was flippin’ genius at this stuff. She out-geeked the geeks. There wasn’t a system she couldn’t hack, hadn’t even touched a computer before High School. I could really do with her help”, she murmured, musing. She didn’t sense Ginny stiffening at her side.

Harry had seen it, however, and caught Ginny’s eye. He shook his head slightly and Ginny frowned at him. He smiled back. He’d had a long conversation with his best friend whilst still living in the Bunker, knew his friend had bedded the girl on a mere two occasions in the nearly eighteen months they’d known each other and tried to reassure her girlfriend. Ginny’s mouth set in a grim line and Harry wondered if he’d just made things worse instead of better.

He gave himself plenty of time to walk back to the flat and enjoyed the stroll once out from the tangle of bridges and railway arches, once he could see sky overhead again. He contemplated ringing Draco again, then decided against it. He dipped into the pub for a swift pint before last orders. The barmaid greeted him, “Hi, Harry, your usual, love?”. This made Harry feel warm inside. He often dropped in for one after work, sitting quietly and doing the crossword in the paper while he sipped his pint. He smiled, “Yes please, Belinda”. He felt like a regular.

He let his eyes stray to the TV mounted high on the wall. The late evening news. The lead item a strange sight that had been in the vicinity of Derbyshire. The film was wobbly, shot by a visitor to the large country house on his camcorder. A column of black smoke rising into the air above the House, shifting, lazily forming, shaping, into a skull with a snake emerging from perpetually grinning jaws.

Harry tuned out the garble of commentary on the screen. He paled, his eyes going round. Without thinking, he shouted, “Dragon”, and in a trance drew his mobile out of his pocket and speed-dialled Draco. Harry almost fainted when he heard Draco’s voice. “Where are you, love?”. Draco’s voice was cheery, “I was met from the train, and I’m in the pub in Bakewell just finishing my pint before we head back. Why?. You sound all anxious, love”. Harry brusquely asked if the pub had a TV, to be told, yes.

“Get them to switch it on, you need to see this, my Dragon”, his voice positively panicked. Draco politely requested that the landlord turned the TV on, “Okay, Harry, what channel?”. “BBC news 24, if they have it. Dragon, you’re in great danger”. The line was still open but quiet as the TV was tuned. Then Draco saw. The Dark Mark against the sky, rising over the place that he was currently working in, and he quailed, sitting down hard. He was suddenly short of breath. “Oh, shit, Harry. There’s a party in the House this weekend. It’s a fucking Death-Eater gathering. What the fuck do I do?”.

Draco’s workmates saw their colleague’s reaction to the news, his hand clutched his mobile with whitened knuckles as the look of horror intensified in his face. This boy was clearly frightened for his life.

“What is it, Draco?”, Jacinta laid a cautious hand on Draco’s arm. The boy couldn’t take his eyes from the screen, terror rolling from him in palpable waves. His voice was uncertain, “Harry. I don’t know what to do, baby. I’m scared”. There was silence, then Draco smiled, murmured something into his phone and closed the connection.

Marcus’ eyes were wide as he, too, watched the news item. “We can’t let them find him, Jace”, he murmured urgently to his team leader. He leaned closer and in a whisper, explained a bit more. The woman reeled back, “Draco, you’re a Magical?”, she breathed. The blond nodded, finally out, as the rest of his workmates regarded him with shock and awe. Somehow, it was much more difficult to come out as Magical than gay.

The third girl in the team, Caroline, spoke up, “So you went to Hogwart’s school, then?. You lucky bastard. My Magic levels were just a teeny bit below their requirements”. In spite of his panic, Draco’s head shot round, “Levels?. I thought you were either Magical or not. The less talented were usually Sorted into Hufflepuff if I recall”.

Caroline sighed, “Then I obviously wasn’t worthy of even your lowest House, although I have some ability. Would you like me to demonstrate?”. Draco’s hand shot out, “No”, he cried. “Since Voldemort won, there’s been an Embargo on Magic. No-one but his designated can practice it. If you perform it, your Magical signature, however weak, is left in the spot and can be read. Harry and I, and all our friends have not used Magic for nearly two years, even while it was used against me”. His head bowed and he told them his tale of the last two years. To a deafening silence.

They left the pub not wanting to question their colleague until they had him away from eyes and ears. They piled into taxis and went back to the site. They all tipped into Draco and Marcus’ caravan and Draco answered as many questions as he dared. After they all left and Marcus had retired, Draco phoned Harry. A sleepy voice answered him, the radio nattering in the background, the news pundits chewing over the mysterious sighting that had been seen over the Derbyshire country house.

“When’s the ‘Party’?”, Harry asked. Draco’s tremulous voice replied, “This weekend, and we’ve all been invited”. Harry pondered a moment, “Then you must invent a family emergency, my Dragon, and come home for the weekend. Meanwhile, just try and stay out of their way”. Draco smiled at his lover’s words, revelling in the sound of his voice, then told him about Caroline. He was incensed. “I thought anyone with the ability was trained”. He could almost hear Harry’s shrug at the other end of the line, “Behave, Dragon. Hogwart’s was exclusive, only took the best. What, ten into each House each year? We were selected, Dragon. Only the supposed best, and your poor friend simply missed out. Welcome to Politics, love”

Draco was stunned as he murmured his love to Harry and closed the connection, hugging the phone to his cheek, then folded over his legs and howled, his knuckles in his mouth, “I’m fuckin’ terrified. I cannot let these people see me or catch me. If I was with them, then I would carry a Mark on my left forearm”. He rolled his sleeve back. Smooth white skin, the delicate blueness of veins at the wrist, “Much like the thing we all saw on TV”, Draco looked down, suddenly disgusted with the Wizarding world. Caroline touched his arm hesitantly, making him look up. “We’ll protect you, Draco, in any way we can. I may not have had training, but I know people who have. My cousins Colin and Dennis”.

Draco paled, “The Creeveys?”. Caroline grinned, “The very same”. Marcus spoke up, “And Auntie Hortense has met Minerva again”. Saskia next, “My great-uncle Kenneth was a Magical. Went to that school. Was disowned by the rest of the family. I only have a few memories of him from when I was tiny, but he was a cool guy. I’ve always reckoned I got my creative streak from him. The rest of my family are as dull as ditchwater”.

Draco used a little of his dormant Magic to read the people around him, not enough to leave a mark in the ripple of space-time and thereby register with the Ministry. But having told his tale, he needed to know that his colleagues could be trusted. He could also read Caroline’s Magic, and felt deeply for her. He could feel it pushed to the edges of her consciousness, a forgotten and neglected thing.