A Dark Time For The Light

35

Harry took Tuesday off from work having earned a day’s holiday and went North with Draco. They were met by Marcus assured that the coast was clear. Jacinta handed Draco a letter that his Mother had left with her,

My Son,

I am glad to hear that you found your true love again and that you are now happy, even though it grieves me greatly, that I may never see you again. I hope that Ginny has had equal good fortune. I hear that you now work and are making your own way in the world. I am so proud of you, son. That resourcefulness is one of your many qualities, I always knew, though with our privileged life, you may not have had many instances to show this, but now you are truly proving yourself a Black.

Your Father insisted on ‘Flavius’ as your son’s first name but I retained Reuben as his middle name as I know you both liked it. Son, if you wish to write to me in secret, the Duchess has agreed to pass on mail that your Father needn’t see. I tire of this life, my petit Dragon. I wish for truth and light in my life. You shame me with your honesty. I hope your love was worth running for. I have a feeling that it is. I came to love your Father in my way although we have never made a secret of the fact that our union was arranged. It is time for me to follow your path, son. I seek my own true love. Wish me courage, son, as I always wished you mine. I will stay in touch. I love you, my son, and I will always be,

Your loving Mother xxx

Draco handed the letter to his lover wordlessly, then folded in on himself as Harry read. As his eyes scanned the page, Harry’s other arm automatically gathered Draco to him, his hand twisting gently into Draco’s hair. He re-read the last section several times, “What does this mean, Dragon?”, he enquired gently into his lover’s wet eyes.

“It was one night, just after Ginny and I had had the Imperius lifted. Mother had been drinking and we were all sitting in our quarters. It was the night she told us she would help us to escape. There was a sadness about her I’d never seen before. She confessed that before she was married off, there was someone”, his voice faltered, “Someone important, someone she was in love with. Then she was married to my Father, but I’ve always known that she had a secret correspondent. I’ve never had any idea of this person’s identity”, he chuckled weakly as he wiped at his eyes, sniffling.

Harry related Draco’s story with his lover’s permission, his forced marriage, the curse that made them produce a son between them. “You mean, that Ginny?. Hermione’s girlfriend?”, Marcus asked. Harry nodded. “She’s another pureblood with a family line going back centuries. Her family have no money. You met my mate, Ron?, while we were all on the same project? That’s her older brother”. Jacinta, Marcus and Caroline were all agog.

“This is so complicated”, Draco snuffled. “Magic sometimes sucks”, he intoned with feeling. The other three went back to work leaving the two alone. Jacinta threw over her shoulder, “Draco, start tomorrow morning. I’ll run Harry back to Buxton after work. Enjoy your afternoon”, she winked and left.

They enjoyed a sweet sexy afternoon on a lumpy caravan bed and were fully dressed again as the working day finished and Harry was run back to the station. Draco kissed him long and deep, then let him go, to be whisked back to Manchester, then the London train. “I’ll see you Friday, lover”, then Harry’s train was swallowed up by the advancing dusk.

Harry was delayed somewhere just north of Watford Junction and as a result, it was very late as he let himself in to an empty flat. He sighed, his back pressed against the front door, breathing in the air, then noticed the difference. The place now smelt of them, not that weird new flat smell. He wished Draco was there to appreciate this, he texted him instead, late as it was, a reply a few minutes later read, Mssn U so mch. Lv U. D xx.

Alan watched Harry work through the rest of the week. He too had had his eyes truly opened last weekend as had Cellan and Steffie and there was an unspoken agreement between them to guard and care for this rare magical creature in their midst. Suddenly this was more than just a job, even though the three of them had worked together now for more than four years. He spied all three of them keeping a crafty eye out for the youngest member of the team.

Said youngest member snuck off on Thursday night into London after work saying he’d make his own way home. That night he pulled into the flat’s parking space on a brand new scooter, bigger than his last one, capable of Motorway travel and long distances, but still a good round-town machine. He unpacked the backbox, taking two sets of waxies and two helmets into the flat, locking everything behind him.

He turned up at work under his own steam the next day, then set off as soon as Joe released them, heading north with the rest of the commuter traffic, but losing them quickly, able to dodge and weave. At Hilton Park, he called Draco, who was in the pub in Bakewell. “Give me an hour, then buy me a pint. I don’t need to be met tonight, my Dragon. I’m independent again. See you later. I love you. Don’t forget me pint”, he closed his phone.

Draco was mystified. He waited the hour then bought the beer as a bike could be heard pulling up outside and Harry’s unruly hair emerged from inside a bike helmet as he walked into the pub and spotted the white-blond mane of his beloved. They said their hello’s discreetly, then Harry led Draco outside to show him the new machine. “It’s not the sex-on-wheels that Sev’s bike is, but it’ll get us around”. He handed Draco a helmet. Draco looked bemused. Harry fitted it for him. Then the two took off for a short ride in the neighbouring countryside, returning to a quiet car park.

They dismounted and Harry locked up. “You approve?”, he murmured. In reply, Draco covered his lover’s mouth with his own and kissed him, “Oh, yes. I approve”, as they came up for oxygen a good while later.

On that note, they rejoined the others in the pub. A few drifted out to admire the new purchase. Harry ran Draco back to the site that night via a little detour that took them through deep woods, parking up and laying his lover down atop a deep layer of last years leaves, laid in a nest of their clothes, kissing him, stripping him, taking him until they both howled loud. Then nuzzling and cuddling, Harry got them both back to the site. They slept late the next day.

Saturday night and Jacinta ran them into Manchester and they sampled the delights of Canal Street, or the ‘Gay Village’ as it is also known, starting in a bar adorned with heavy wood everywhere, but a cosy atmosphere, old jail doors as the doors to the ladies’ toilets as Jacinta gleefully informed them.

As the night wore on, they all ended up in a club. Jacinta shared a dance with the boys before leaving them together. In her heart of hearts, she was glad she hadn’t brought Draco here on his own. This was no place to come alone, committed relationship or not, unless you wanted action. The parade of gorgeous boys from all over the country flocked here on a Saturday to the hottest gay clubs and bars all within a few yards of each other. As they made their way from one place to the next, Draco bent Harry backwards over the canal wall that gave the street it’s name and kissed him deeply, Harry protesting, trying to free himself from that predatory grasp and losing, then giving in and laughing. Jacinta bent double as she watched them, then saw the fire light in their eyes and watched as they danced their dance, being totally themselves. Draco advancing, Harry feinting although it was he who held the reins.

On the long drive back, she watched them surreptitiously in the rear-view mirror. Never had she seen a love like this and it fascinated her, not to mention the Magical stuff. She’d had a chat to a love-struck Caroline and a gobsmacked Marcus before Draco returned. She was his boss after all. She felt all of her protective hackles rise, a fervour mount in her chest. If there was anyone to pledge allegiance to in that moment, she would have done it, as she glanced in her mirror, the boys were in a fast-asleep pile of limbs in her back seat. She awoke them enough to pour them into their caravan.

They woke to the smell of grilling bacon. A few moments later, a knock on their bedroom door, then a hand appeared bearing a plate piled high with bacon butties. A heartfelt “Thanks”, and Harry took the plate. The door closed. “We weren’t doing anything, you know”. Draco’s slightly haughty tone. Harry nudged him in the ribs and hushed him. They shared breakfast. “We’ve got to give them all time to adjust, Dragon. The fact that we’re gay is one thing, but I suspect the Magic thing has blown everyone away. Give ‘em time, baby”.

Draco took a deep breath leaning against the headboard, his eyes closed. “You’re right. These are good people. They’ve looked out for us, warned us, passed secret messages for us”, he smiled into Harry’s intense green eyes, “I trust you, Harry”. Harry looked, long and hard, and saw the truth in his lover’s eyes. Smiled. Slowly.

They passed an amicable and friendly Sunday. Saskia conjuring a half-way decent roast from the tiny oven in her caravan. Everyone enjoyed the meal. Harry had to get back to London. They all left them to say their goodbyes and Harry roared off into the late afternoon, Draco a silhouette against the westering sun waving him goodbye.