A Dark Time For The Light

34

The most perfect moments for Harry were as he woke up, either Draco spooned around him or vice versa, or one sitting in the other’s lap, lying down, but always so close. He knew that Draco being away was trying them both, but for now they were together again. He opened his eyes kissing the nearest bit of naked Draco he could reach, the back of his neck where the hair had fallen away. One arm was trapped around his lover, his hand clutched over Draco’s heart. He eased up onto his other elbow and looked down at Draco’s face in profile.

‘What the hell does he see in me?’, he mused, taking in the changes to his love’s features as he’d turned from boy to man. Still the same delicacy about him that he would probably always have now, the bump at the top of his nose slightly more pronounced, the cheekbones a little more prominent, the chin more defined since the puppy fat had gone and one only noticed the true length of his eyelashes up close. ‘Truly gorgeous. Ahh, why me?’. On that thought, he snuggled down again and dozed for a while.

It was Draco’s turn to gaze later, as he woke from a nightmare to find himself clutching Harry’s hand to him in a vice-like grip, Harry asleep behind him, curled close.

A phalanx of Death-Eaters have us cornered in a corridor. There’s nowhere left to run. Damn Dumbledore. There should at least one secret Apparation point in this damn place! We cannot get away, we’re trapped. One of them raises his wand, he’s calling my name. Harry steps in front of me, shielding me, “If you want him, you have to kill me first”, his voice is low, guttural, menacing. The hair rises on my neck and not for the first time do I realise how powerful Harry is, but this time, his power is as nought. They stun him and he falls at my feet. I gather him into my arms unable to undo the spell. I’m frantic. I hold my Harry tight telling him how much I love him. Harry is fighting the Stun with all that is in him.

Arms grab me. I try to fight them off, but it’s four against one. I have no chance. I hear myself scream as they drag me away. “I’ll always love you, Harry!!” I punch, kick, bite even. No time for manly clean fighting here. My captors don’t even Stun me. It’s as if having a screaming struggling prize carries more prestige than one in a stupor. A ‘Look, we got him without Magic’ thing. I’m dragged into the Hall. Voldemort is in Dumbledore’s place at the high table, only it is now decorated as an Altar. Death-Eaters abound, though my mind is full of Harry. Another of His minions passes us in the corridor as I am dragged away. Harry is on his knees, I watch him rise as the tall Death-Eater approaches him and can only think, ‘Harry won’t meet his end on his knees’, as I am dragged around a corner and the love of my life is lost to me forever.

Draco was breathing hard as he awoke. He relinquished Harry’s hand to a murmur behind him and turned it over, four neat half-moons dug into Harry’s palm, an angry red. He kissed and licked at the angry marks to soothe them and was answered by a sleepy nuzzle into his shoulder. He smiled and carefully turned onto his back, then his head twisted to look at his beloved in sleep. Although lovely to behold in slumber, Draco knew Harry’s true beauty was when awake, every emotion reflected in those beautiful eyes, the expressiveness of that vulnerable mouth, his whole face forever mobile, whether just about to come or facing down Voldemort’s Death-Eaters, concentrating at his work, or when meeting Draco off the train as if the pure joy wanted to leap out of his face.

Draco risked another cautious turn bringing them face to face. He hooked Harry’s leg over his own and ran his hand slowly over his lover’s muscles, relaxed though they now were, they could still be discerned beneath the skin. His thigh, his firm arse, deserving of a gentle squeeze. The density, the compactness, the solidity of his lover. He knew Harry often wondered what he thought of him, and many times, Draco had tried to explain, but failed dismally, wordsmith though he was. Harry was all about intangibles. Draco thought him beautiful to look at but Harry always shrugged this off. Okay, Harry was a little short, five seven to his six one, but there was a solidity to him, a feeling of safety in his arms, his lover’s bravery, decision, assertiveness. Draco was deeply honoured and awed to be the beloved of such a man.

Hearing nothing but a soft snore, feeling a slight shift, Draco brought his hand to Harry’s face. He had no wish to wake him immediately. His long fingers traced through his thick soft hair that really did resist any attempt to tame it, his thumb rubbed lightly over one thick eyebrow, then into the edge of the eye hollow and onto the cheekbone without touching the lid. Harry’s long dark lashes fluttered at the contact, but his breathing remained regular, his eyes closed. Draco once again allowed himself a moment of envy at the thickness and darkness of those lashes. His fingertips carried on their slow journey. Harry had a cute nose, well-defined but without any lumps or bumps, but his mouth, oh god, his mouth.

Even in deep sleep, Harry tried to nibble Draco’s fingertips. Harry had to have the most sensitive and therefore the sexiest mouth around. Draco sighed as he thought of the number of times Harry’s delicious mouth had been his undoing, his lover was so damned oral, and Draco loved it.

He reluctantly trailed his fingers away and Harry relaxed again, a slight smile on his face, reaching blindly, grabbing the hand by instinct, pressing it to his lips and slowly opening his eyes. Into Draco’s. Unguarded. Morning. Beautiful pale grey. That smile. That made Draco fall in love again each time he saw it. Deep malachite green. His own widened to see his lover awake. He didn’t care that he’d been busted looking again. They both did this especially since being together again after the separation. They couldn’t get enough of each other.

Harry registered the pain in his hand, flexing and stretching, noting the nail marks, “Did you have the nightmare again, love?”. Harry knew Draco would never hurt him intentionally. He stroked Draco’s face, saw the last vestiges of the panic in his eyes as his lover nodded then turned to kiss his palm, “The one I always have, being taken away from you”, he shuddered and Harry held him. “Are you all right now?”. Draco took his time revelling being in Harry’s arms, letting his lover be a bulwark between him and the rest of the world for a moment, then nodded, then looked up into his lover’s face and grinned, “Thanks, I’m fine now”

Whereupon Harry delivered a stinging slap to his arse and said, “C’mon. We’ve got a party to organise”, and catapulted Draco rudely back into the real world. Bastard! But the grin was still there, only more challenging. Both boys got up to meet the day.

Soon they were pushing a trolley around the local supermarket, loading up on beer and salty snacks, took a taxi home and hauled it all upstairs, laughing, looking forward to the evening. They moved furniture back, cleaned the bathroom, then made love and slept. From mid afternoon to early evening. Then took a while to come round, ensconced, naked, in each other’s arms. Made love again.

Scrambled into clothes as the doorbell sounded. Harry rushed downstairs to let in... Caroline and Marcus and Bronwen. Draco quickly switched on music as they climbed upstairs, then offered beers all round, the perfect host.

The doorbell rang again. Alan. With a carrier bag full of beer. No sooner sorted into the freezer, then another ring, the Bunker crew with the two ‘postmen’ in tow. Then Harry surreptitiously turned the music up. Into the noise, a last ring on the bell. Harry answered. Steffie and Cellan. Sans wife. Not that anyone seemed to notice.

Small gifts had been brought, things for the flat. A fancy cheese grater, that grated anything from nutmeg to lemon zest. A lemon squeezer from the girls that resembled a spaceship on three tall legs. A beautiful throw. A funny shower curtain, even though they had a cabinet, a kitchen clock that had hands. Draco was delighted. Other gewgaws for the flat.

The party was complete. The music was loud. The lights were low, and people danced, fuelled by alcohol that the hosts pressed on Magical and Mundane alike. Another party started in the kitchen as joints were rolled and everyone relaxed. Caroline was listening wide-eyed to Remus, having told him of her status. His heart went out to her. He could have taught her. She would have been in Ginny’s year.

Cellan and Steffie were fascinated at some of the conversations around them, tongues loosened by alcohol and her strong grass and hash, a pale blond confection from the Lebanon. They glanced at each other as Harry dragged them both to their feet to dance. Cellan ventured, “You’re Magicals, aren’t you?”, the penny dropping. Steffie started to laugh, “Of course. You all are, aren’t you?”. Harry nodded, “Even Caroline, Draco’s colleague, but her Magic flies under the radar. Severus and Remus, the older guys here?. Used to teach us. One Defence Against the Dark Arts, the other Potions”.

Steffie was dumbstruck, “You don’t all live in a big house somewhere, do you?. I imagined you were just all old schoolmates sharing a big house”. Harry shook his head and beckoned his two work-mates closer, “Draco and I are the first two who have moved out into the world. At present there are about 65 of us hiding out in a disused Underground station about half a mile from here. I cannot divulge the location. You know when you pick the three of us up, Cel?” Cellan nodded, fascinated. “Well we’re about another half mile from where we actually are, to keep the location secret. We have six other such places around Britain, although one was busted not long ago”.

Steffie gasped, “That news item that upset you a bit back?”. Harry nodded, “They are Magical but refused the dowse that would let them in to the Underground, the Wizarding Underground, not the Tube”. His colleagues were amazed.

Just then a sweaty and glowing Draco plumped himself down beside Harry, his arm around him, “Come and dance, Harry”, then pulled his arm away, murmuring an apology, “Sorry, Harry, erm”. Steffie laughed, “It’s okay. We’d guessed anyway. Happy housewarming to both of you”, she grinned and lifted her can. Draco dragged Harry to his feet and into the dancers, then into his arms for a slow one. They drew apart at the end of the track and circulated again.

Hermione popped her head around the kitchen door brandishing a ringing mobile. “Is this yours, Draco?”. The blond looked up from his little blunt factory on the kitchen table and reached for it. He glanced at the screen, Jacinta. He excused himself and rose, leaving for a quieter place, “Hi, gorgeous. How’s it going?”. He snuck into the bathroom and closed the door.

“Did you see them?. My parents, I mean”. Jacinta laughed, “And hello to you too. Yes, I’ve seen them and I had a very quick word with your mother. She’s guessed that you are the gilder that’s gone off with an emergency. The Duchess can’t stop raving about your work. I told your Mother that you are safe and happy and working hard and not coming back until everyone was gone. She looked a bit upset at that. I think she hoped to stay on her own after the rest of the party breaks up, but I said as your employer, that I would not allow you as my employee to be placed in any danger, that you had told me a little of your history and had no wish to see either her or your Father. I hope I did the right thing, Draco”.

Draco went silent, sitting on the edge of the bath, “Are you still there, Draco?”, brought him out of his reverie, “Sorry. Yes, you did the right thing. Thank you. Did she mention...er...the baby at all?”, his voice low, “No, nothing was said about a child”. Draco said nothing, “Is everything all right, Draco?”, softly. “Yeah. Matter of fact, we’re having a bit of a bash this end, housewarming do”. The doorknob rattled, “I must go, I’m hogging the loo, thanks for everything Jace, you’re a star”. She smiled, “Just you relax, Draco, and no coming back ‘til I tell you, okay. Enjoy your party. Take care”. She rang off and Draco went to find Harry.

Harry caught himself grinning as the hour grew late and things were still going. The beer loosening inhibition, the weed prolonging, telescoping time. Knots of people gathering in the kitchen and on the landing, a steady stream of dancers. The munchies devoured, empty bowls pushed under furniture. A red-faced Seamus and Colin emerging from their darkened bedroom. A perfect party all round. Harry felt arms go around him and turned into them, kissing his beloved as they swayed, drunk and stoned, to the music.

As they came back, it was to cheers and a toast, “To Harry and Draco, in their new home”. Hermione. Another cheer. Draco grinned and bowed politely all round, his manners impeccable as usual. Harry just laughed aloud and raised his can to all of his friends.

The music was turned down and Harry put on a chill-out CD, then folk drifted into the lounge sitting about in small groups, all mixed up, which Harry was pleased to see. He’d noticed various of his and Draco’s colleagues gobsmacked by the Wizard status, but they were all cool to it. Caroline had learned so much about what it meant to be Magical, both from Remus, then Hermione once she realised there was an unrealised Witch in their midst, then Ginny when she found out that they could have been potential classmates. Caroline had a burst of sudden tears at all she had missed.

Then Severus solemnly told her of the Magical Embargo. The fact that now the Dark ruled the Light, and the Light was in hiding, shying away from the ordinary light of day, hiding in dark tunnels and underground places. With tears in her eyes and a reasonably steady voice, she asked if there was any service she could perform for her own ‘people’, however lowly and untrained her own place. The tears spilled. Severus pulled her to him, realising her life had just changed, “Not right now, child, but if the Magical world has need of your services?....The last Battle we fought, we lost. It was no-one’s fault, we were just outflanked, outmanoeuvred. None of us stood a chance. We weren’t ready....”, his voice tailed away.

That night she pledged her fight to the Light in whatever capacity she could. Ginny hugged her, “You would have been in my year. Brainy and resourceful. Artistic, too. Probably a Ravenclaw. Shame about the Magic levels. Hermione always wondered at the even 40 new students a year and realised a selection process was in place. Sorry, Caroline. I bet you would have made an excellent Hogwart’s student”. Caroline blushed. Tonight she had learned so much about her own kind, from her contemporaries and their erstwhile teachers. She was the first to ask Draco to call a cab. She wanted to go home and process this.

As usual, once one person called a taxi, then others followed. Steffie and Cellan lived near to each other and were next to leave, each hugged their workmate extra close as they left. Draco quirked an eyebrow at his lover, “I explained a few things”, was all Harry was willing to say right now. Draco nodded. They were ‘out’ as both gay and Magicals. There was a dropping feeling in his stomach for a moment. No, you had to trust sometimes, and Harry had decided to trust these people. Draco relaxed and said his cordial goodnights as guests left.

As they had arrived, the Bunker crew left, as a body. There was safety in numbers at this time on a Saturday night, particularly as the local footie team had lost, so confrontations with the locals could be ugly, particularly at this time of night.

Draco and Harry had had a brief discussion. “Do we ask them both to stay the night?”. One sagged against the other. The other sagged right back, the, “Not tonight”, was unanimous.

They surveyed the wreck of the living room and kitchen and grinned. It had been an excellent party. The dawn was silvering the buildings across the street. The traffic was still reasonably quiet. They ignored the mess and went to bed, Draco falling backwards with Harry in his arms, then clothes disappearing with lightning speed, their eyes never straying from each other’s, Harry rolling atop his beloved, spreading and preparing him, Draco’s head rolling back, small sounds, cries and whispers, “Fuck me, Harry”, that only his lover could hear. Then the slow slide that made both of them cry out, contracting around each other, pain in the pleasure. Draco on his back, his legs held apart, wantonly. Offering himself. Being taken, slowly and completely, his mind a mess, pushing, arching and aching, needing more, then getting it, hard, harder, hardest, seeing stars as he came, his cock untouched. Harry came moments later and he was truly filled. They just about had the energy to scurry under the covers before they slept close together, arms wrapped around each other.

“I don’t blame them for moving out now”, Hermione murmured as the Bunker crew made their way back the half-mile to the only home any of them knew. “I know, nice flat”. Seamus said in a voice filled with longing. Hermione asked, “Why do you stay here?. Why not go north?”. Seamus shook his head, “This is probably the best money I can earn. If he still wants me, he can come to me”. Hermione rolled her eyes at the boy’s stubbornness and flung her arm around Ginny, who reciprocated by pressing her into a wall and kissing her senseless, “Fuck! I’ve wanted to do that all night”, breathing ragged, then took her lover to bed and they made each other scream, before sleep claimed them.