Redeem Me

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write…are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

Redeem Me…by Samayel

Chapter 36: Jobs, Jests, and Just Desserts


The remainder of the afternoon passed peacefully, and Draco subjected himself to another round of Scaradicate Salve with Harry. They did finish his chest, and Draco rejoiced silently that, with his shirt open, he was no longer a sight to sicken people with disgust. It had been a fine time, getting out of the house and walking about with Harry, and Draco had been heartened by Harry’s even-tempered response to Dawlish.

When he asked Harry why he’d gone so easy on a man he’d as much as threatened to maim, Harry quietly asserted that someone had put him into too good of a mood to spoil by ripping Dawlish apart in the street. Draco was flattered accordingly, reveling in the knowledge that Harry genuinely enjoyed his company.

Chatting with one another also took the edge off of Draco’s morbid fear of touch, and smoothed their way through the healing session, but it didn’t prevent Draco from shuddering all throughout, then remembering each touch wistfully after the fact. It was so perverse, to dwell on it, hunger for it, and daydream of it, then recoil from it when it actually happened. While he was looking into ways to help Harry, Draco promised himself he’d try to look for anything that would help his mental state regarding being touched too. Anything that might allow him to feel bolder, and dare to reach for what he wanted, would be a godsend.

Dinner with the twins had been a surprise pleasure. Fred and George had been in good spirits, and had taken Harry at his word, treating Draco fairly courteously, and restraining their impulses with regard to pranks. Mostly, they were just happy to see that their mother was up and feeling fine, no different than they’d ever known her. That was enough to ensure a cheerful tone to the evening, and Draco found that he could get along reasonably well with the two entrepreneurs of the Weasley clan.

Arthur had finally had an amusing day at work, and related to everyone the strange tale of a cursed bookstore, where the shelf in the weight-loss section had been cruelly charmed to move books first up and out of reach, then down to the floor when people reached for them. By the time Arthur’s team had arrived, it had looked like an exercise class, with customers bending and stretching every which way, trying to reach the books they wanted. Fred and George had been envious of the creativity, wishing they could find the culprit and hire him or her before the Ministry caught them, claiming that talent like that shouldn’t be wasted.

Draco found that conversation with the twins was easier than with most people, and once it was clear that they had a certain confidence in Draco’s abilities, thanks to Harry, he felt comfortable going over types of forms, current income, and unusual circumstances that he would need to be aware of to ensure accuracy. It was more complicated by far than Harry’s circumstances, but that was alright, he was more than capable enough to handle the job, since the Malfoy estate, for which he’d practiced years ago, was infinitely more complex than anything Harry or the Weasley’s could imagine.

Before it was done, Draco had secured a trial hire for a month, which he was sure would be enough for the Weasley twins to see his skills in action. It was official…Draco had a job, and not with poor pay either. The twins had been just a little more than fair, but not so much that it seemed like charity. They claimed it was easily worth ten times that much to avoid doing the paperwork themselves, and that Draco was going make it possible for them to get home on time. How could a small price be put on that?

With that settled, Draco relaxed the rest of the night, utterly crushing George in a game of wizard chess, and discreetly watching Harry from across the room, constantly fighting the urge to go to him. Not for any important reason, but just because, when Harry was happy, Draco felt like a moth drawn to the flame of that happiness. If Harry couldn’t easily touch him, then he was going to have to be content to be near him, soaking in the warmth of Harry’s presence, and taking his pleasure from the rare moments that Harry’s mask of convivial calm dropped, and hungrier, more appreciative glances, full of idle dreams and hopes that neither dared to speak, slipped Draco’s way.

‘Merlin. I didn’t even think I had an ego left to stroke. What’s so wrong with liking that he looks at me? At least he doesn’t turn his head away now. He likes how I look…shouldn’t I enjoy that? I know I can’t…I can’t…do much…like other people, and maybe it isn’t fair to him, but damn it…I want him. I want him to like me…and like how I look. Is that so bad?’

Perhaps it wasn’t fair, for either of them, but it was all he could grasp for at the moment, and it was something to hang onto, which, frankly, he desperately needed these days.

When the evening was done, and the twins had gone home, Harry and Draco made ready for bed. Harry went to his room, and Draco changed into pajamas and climbed into bed. He laid there nervously, on his side and facing the door, waiting and trying to remain expressionless.

Harry entered the room, this time in pajamas of his own. Until this night, he had always slept in his clothes, and until last night, Harry had slept consistently on the chair, with only one exception. This night, Harry didn’t say a word when he entered Draco’s room. With a sheepish smile, Draco waited until Harry had slid comfortably beneath all but one sheet, then he curled himself as close to Harry as he could justify, and whispered his thanks in the dark before Harry cast the nightmare wards and they drifted to sleep.

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It had been a good night, by their standards, and their dreams had been mild, as they only sometimes were, but morning still came too soon for their tastes. Draco was terribly sore, since yesterday’s exercise had finally taken its toll, and he griped mightily when Harry insisted that he at least try a reduced workout, just to work out the stiffness from the previous day.

Unbeknownst to either Harry or Draco, Arthur was making his usual journey to the kitchen, and had stumbled afoul of their conversation once again, much to his total discomfort.

“Merlin’s Beard, Harry! You can’t really expect me to do it again so soon. It bloody hurts something awful! I just want to have breakfast and go back to bed…please?”

“Look. It’s for your own good. You need this, Draco. You asked for it…remember? Now that we’ve started we can’t just quit, otherwise there was no point in starting. I know you’re tough enough to handle this. Now stop complaining and let’s just do it!”

“Hmmph! Slavedriver! You don’t care at all if I ache from head to toe, do you? I suppose I’m just expected to do your evil bidding whenever you want? Sadist! I’ll do it, but this is under protest!”

“It‘ll get better once we get going…I promise. Just give me the best you can, okay? I‘ve got your ankles…go ahead.”

Draco’s voice trailed off to pained grunts that were ending in small whimpers, and Arthur was crimson with outrage. Consent notwithstanding, it was unthinkable that Harry would…would expect…THAT…from Draco…and after all Draco had been through too! It was unconscionable! Arthur’s Weasley temper finally got the better of him, and he grabbed the handle of the door, swinging it inward while starting a tirade intended to shame Harry into better conduct.

“That is quite enough! Harry! How could you possibly-”

Arthur trailed off as Draco and Harry, still clad in pajamas, looked up from the floor. Harry was holding Draco’s ankles, while Draco had his arms behind his head, paused in the middle of a sit-up. They stared at him in utter confusion.

“What’s wrong? Did we make too much noise arguing? We’re sorry…didn’t mean to wake anyone up.”

Arthur visibly deflated, turning crimson with humiliation while Harry apologized for all the wrong reasons.

“Oh…no…nothing wrong at all. Not a thing. Tea…I need tea, and breakfast. See you lads at the table. Right. Well. I’m off!”

Arthur Weasley let himself out, and toddled down the steps toward breakfast.

’Good Heavens, Arthur. Gone daft in your old age, have you? Exercise. Nothing but exercise. Whew! Nothing wrong with that, is there? What on earth were you thinking. Really, as if they’d have gone so far so quickly. They’re lads and all, but still, the things you let your mind get away with, old boy! Ah well, just a good laugh in the end.’

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Draco had managed to get Harry to speak of his frustrations from the other day, and with a little browbeating, he’d gotten Harry to agree to visit St. Mungo’s, and see Tonks, while Draco felt it was past time to see his mother. Not that it would do any good, since the only time he’d seen her, just after his release from the Ministry, she’d been a complete vegetable, catatonic and unresponsive, and that was reportedly still the case. Even so, it was only right that, if they were going, he should see her, if only for a little while. Who knew? Maybe somewhere inside, she’d know that Draco was alive and well, and that would be worth it…if it were true. All he could do was imagine, and hope, and that was all there was for it.

At least Harry had been amenable to the idea. He seemed to be in the best mood he’d been in for quite some while, and Draco flattered himself that he might have had something to do with that. It wasn’t anything that Harry had said, just a gut feeling that hinted that Harry was happier around him, and that was enough to make him all the more pleased with himself…even if the impossible prat had pushed him to keep exercising until his stomach, arms and legs just burned.

St. Mungo’s turned out to be a bit of a mood dampener. They Apparated to the entrance, Draco nervously touching Harry’s shoulder to allow side-along transport, and walked in, only to be halted by a particularly unpleasant looking receptionist, who remembered Draco from past visits. When he’d visited his mother, they hadn’t had a rule against Death Eaters in the building. By the time he’d been released by Rodolphus LeStrange and found his way out of Muggle London, they’d stopped allowing ex-Death Eaters into the building.

“I’m sorry, gentleman. The Marked are not allowed inside St. Mungo’s, now or ever. Please depart, or I’ll have to call for security, and have you removed.”

Draco flushed crimson. He’d hoped that Harry’s presence would get him in, but alas, it didn’t look like the rigid woman at the desk was going to give any ground. It was a bitter reminder than no matter how clean and well-dressed he was, Dula had been right. Some people would never stop seeing the Mark on his arm. He could only hope that eventually, the majority of folks would see him the way Harry and the Weasley’s did.

Harry leaned forward, then ran a hand through his hair, letting his scar show as clearly as he could.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m not sure you recognized me. I am Marked, and it was by Voldemort, but since the mark on my head meant that I had to fight on behalf of the rest of you, I think you can make a small exception for my guest and friend. Does that sound acceptable?”

Her mouth was set in a tight little line. Obviously this was the kind of person who hated to be challenged by anything dangerous…like a thought. Or a clue.

“Sir! I insist you leave these premises immediately!”

Harry’s neck was getting red, and Draco felt that familiar and frightening heat beginning to rise in the air around him. Harry leaned closer and practically hissed at her.

“You haven’t got enough security to stop me if I want in…and what’s more, I can fill every ward here with the staff, and I could start with you!”

It was a perfect stand-off. Draco would have admired the woman’s courage, if he hadn’t known that it was rooted in near total stupidity. Suddenly, Harry’s body language shifted, and he was all charm. He was staring the woman in the eyes while he spoke slowly and deliberately.

“There isn’t any need to call security. My friend and I are honored guests. I’m sure you wish us a pleasant visit.”

The woman’s flinty eyes became vague, and then she looked a bit startled. When she finally spoke, her tone was distracted.

“I’ve…I’ve no need to call security. After all, you gentlemen are honored guests. I hope you have a pleasant visit.”

She was fiddling with paperwork while Harry marched down the hall, motioning for Draco to follow him. As soon as he caught up to Harry, Draco whispered to him in a panic.

“Harry! Did you just Imperius that woman? That’s incredibly illegal! How could you?”

“I did no such thing. That was Advanced Legilimency in action. I planted a slight suggestion, and she did the rest. It helped that her mind and will were like butter. People who live by rules that desperately, usually need them to shore up their weak mind. Serves her right. It wouldn’t have worked so easy if she hadn’t been an ignorant cow. Besides, you have every bloody right to be here. Tonks is your cousin, and your mum is here too. They had no right to keep you out.”

“Legilimency can do that?! I never heard of that. I just thought it was a way to read minds, or block mind readers.”

“It is, but more is possible if you keep training. That’s the first time I ever tried that. I was half-surprised that it worked.”

“You get cooler all the time.”

“What?”

“I mean…you wouldn’t do that all the time…would you?”

“No! Of course not. But you need to see your mum, and this is a lot neater than me knocking the building down by blasting the staff through the walls, isn’t it?”

“Oh, hell yes! This is much better than that. Is that 14-A? That’s where Tonks is. Let’s go on in.”

Nymphadora Tonks was eating a tray of hospital food, and her face showed a complete lack of enthusiasm. Heavy scarring surrounded her neck, evidence of the near decapitation she’d survived. She lit up as soon as Harry walked into the room, then looked at Draco with confusion, then recognition.

“Harry, love! It’s good to see ya! How’d you get my scapegrace cousin in the door? I thought they-”

Harry raised a finger to his lips, and Tonks stopped speaking, waiting for his explanation.

“They didn’t let him in. I let him in. He’s staying with me at the Weasley Burrow now. Draco came to see his mum, but we stopped in here first. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Tonks face softened noticeably. Draco was no favorite of hers, and the Tonks branch of the family held the Malfoys to be the embarrassing part of the family, best not spoken of if not necessary. Still, she didn’t really bear any great malice, especially since Draco had been cleared by the Ministry with only a reprimand and the loss of the rights to the Malfoy estate. As far as she was concerned, justice had been done, and the matter was closed.

“Awww. You’re still a sweet one, Harry. Remus was here all of yesterday. Finally had to head home and clean up. Did you hear that he’s going back to Hogwarts as the DADA teacher again? He’s pretty excited, but that’s to be expected. He loves that school like no one’s business. Too bad you missed him. I know he’d love to see you.”

“Damn. I miss him, too. I’ve been, well, we’ve been busy lately. Draco is starting work for the Weasley twins next week. We’ve been getting out of the house a bit and getting things done before he gets busy.”

Nymphadora finally paused to stare at Draco. There was curiosity there, and she finally indulged it.

“Draco. You dropped off the face of the earth for awhile, cousin. Good to see you back and running with the right crowd, but you should eat more, you look too thin. How’ve ya been?”

Draco answered with a slightly wary tone. Aurors, cousin or no, were not his favorite people.

“Almost dead…several times over, but I got over it. Harry and Molly patched me up fairly well. You’d almost mistake me for human these days. Things are looking up, but compared to a month ago, I could be trapped under a sitting giant jinxed with flatulence and still be better off than I was then. Not that anyone but the Weasley’s and Harry cared.”

Nymphadora Tonks looked very closely at Draco. Her eyes were an Auror’s eyes, missing nothing, watching everything for details that most would overlook. There was a vulnerability in Draco that she didn’t remember. The arrogance was gone, and only a hint of bitterness remained. Draco wasn’t just skinnier than he was years ago, far more important changes had happened since the last time she’d seen him, and it occurred to her that Draco was starting a new life, and if he was with Harry, then it must be a better one. Perhaps Draco deserved a break.

“Well. Uh…it sounds like you’re going in the right direction, cousin. Stick with Harry and he’ll steer you right.”

Draco smirked with hidden irony, glancing at Harry.

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

This was Harry’s cue to turn pink, coughing a moment while he collected himself.

“Uh…mmm. So…how’d that raid go wrong? I heard it was a complex ward that got tripped by accident. I’m just damn glad you’re alive.”

“You got that right! I’m damn glad I’m alive too! The bloody thing must've taken Morrigan a week to set. More bad knots in that spell than a drunken sailor could have tied. We had Anti-Apparition Wards in place, and we were picking it apart as quietly as we could, but we muffed an incantation and tripped his alarms. Next thing, he’s popping out of the shack with wand blazing, and there I am still working on wards. I got hit in the first couple seconds. Woke up here, with Remus watching over me like a big mother hen. He let me know that they brought Morrigan in alive. I heard Pinckney dropped him with a string of Stunners. At least the bastard is off the streets. It’s Azkaban for him, and nothing less than a life sentence. The ones that run never get it easy from the Wizengamot.”

Harry nodded agreement. It was true that, when they did finally catch a long wanted Death Eater, the sentence was all the stiffer for having made the Ministry work to catch them, and there were a lot of men and a few women serving life sentences in Azkaban prison these days.

Draco looked twitchy and nervous, listening to hospital staff in the corridor, so Harry kept the chat short and to the point, making sure that Tonks knew he cared, and that he’d like to see her, and Remus, as soon as they were able to get some free time. Then it was time to move on, and complete the other task they’d come for. It was time for Draco to see his mother again.

TBC!!!