A Dark Time For The Light

A/N: My OC Josie. Her name in full is pronounced Jo-zee but when shortened to 'Jose', the 's' is sibilant as in 'dose'.

41

Monday morning and Harry woke up to an empty bed as the alarm clock chirped. He found Draco fully dressed in the living room, pacing back and forth rehearsing his part of the presentation. Harry watched quietly as Draco became more and more agitated, then intervened, sliding sleepy arms around his lover, kissing him. Draco relaxed into Harry’s arms, “Sorry, babe, I had to practice again. I’m so friggin’ nervous”. Harry soothed him, “Ssshh, it means you care, baby”, he could feel the sweat making Draco’s shirt stick to him. “Come on, you need another shower. You’ve got at least another hour before you need to go. Just as well we bought you a few shirts”, he grinned up into his lover’s face and led him away and stripped him, washed him all over, then fucked him comprehensively under the running water, then blew him until all of the residual tension washed away with the water. He dried him and handed him a crisp new shirt, forced some breakfast down him and, kissing him, sent him on his way.

Harry set out a short while later, his latest job started today. He met a beaming Seamus to be told that Terry was in London now, and Dean. Cellan picked them up a short while later and they all set off. The banter in the van was all about the Restoration job. Harry was delighted to announce that Draco’s team had been awarded the contract, and right now, the love of his life was giving a presentation to the review board before signing said contract. Everyone cheered, including Paul and Nathan who usually worked on Gary’s team.

There were also heated discussions vis-a-vis the England game on Saturday night. They’d won by a hair against a team they should have thrashed into the ground. Most agreed the too-young team should have had a few more experienced players in their midst, and they grumbled cheerfully all the way to work.

Draco called him at lunchtime. “The fucking slide projector didn’t work, then when it did, Jace had the slide box in backwards, and I fumbled my speech. I fucking blushed, for Merlin’s sake, but somehow, we still got to sign on the dotted line. I’m convinced that these people think that they’ve hired a complete bunch of imbeciles. We’re sitting licking our wounds in this rather excellent pub”. Harry laughed and murmured, “I love you, my poor beleaguered Dragon. See you later”. They said their goodbyes and ended the call.

Harry let himself in to an empty flat, or so he thought. He went into the living room to find a passed-out-drunk Draco on the couch, snoring away, a half-drunk cup of coffee on the floor beside the sofa. Using a fireman’s lift, Harry gently hefted Draco over his shoulder and carried him to bed, settling him in and removing as many clothes as he could from his dead-weight near-comatose lover.

Harry made some supper for himself and spent the evening in front of the TV, sipping a can and smoking a blunt or two, then, feeling horny, but knowing that Draco wouldn’t be up to anything, he lay on the couch and relieved the day’s tensions, then went to bed and curled around his deeply somnolent Dragon.

Draco was still asleep as Harry left the next day. He left painkillers in a prominent place along with a pint of cold water in a glass by Draco’s side of the bed. He received a text just before lunch that simply read, “Uuurrgghh. Thanx 4 painkillers. Lv U. D xx”, he howled laughing.

He returned that evening to cooking smells pervading the flat and Draco awake and chirpy again. He was gathered up into a kiss as he entered and responded wholeheartedly, before being sat down in front of another of Draco’s experiments. This one worked. Slow-cooked Morroccan lamb, cooked with plums and apricots in the new clay oven thingy that Harry had purchased on a whim. With cous cous, bursting with finely chopped vegetables, a hint of heat within. The meal was delicious and Harry cleaned his plate and sat back, stuffed to the gunwales.

They adjourned to the lounge, Harry relaxing with a can or two and a few blunts, now expertly rolled by his lover. There was still over three-quarters of the weed Neville had given them left. Tonight, Draco rolled the Bubblegum, the most pungent and the strongest of the three strains. When his Harry was suitably relaxed, Draco took him to bed, both wanting, desiring, needing. Draco made Harry unravel with his mouth then took him hard, making Harry moan aloud, feeling that delicious length seat itself in him. Hard pounding, sweaty thrusts, both losing any semblance of control, coming hard and long, wrapped in each other.

Draco cuddled with Harry until he was asleep then slipped out of bed, donning his dressing gown and headed into the living room. Having slept for most of the day, he wasn’t tired. He sprawled on the couch and flicked through channels, deciding on a thing about custom American bikes, then desultorily watched, sipping water and smoking blunts. After a couple more car and bike shows, he flipped the TV off and went to bed. Harry was a star-shape across the whole bed and Draco had to budge him up, “Bed hog”, he murmured as he climbed in, draping himself around his love and in moments he, too, was asleep.

The next morning, Harry was the last in, therefore pressed against the back doors of the van. He stared out of the back windows and mused on his lot. He felt a little guilty that he wasn’t living the Magical life. No, he was more guilty by dint of the fact that he was living as a complete Muggle, and enjoying it. Making friends with Mundanes, working for an honest day’s pay, blending in. He wasn’t the-boy-who-fucking-still-lived. He was just Harry. He remembered the conversation with Hagrid in that god-forsaken shack that the Dursley’s had taken him to, realising on the eve of his eleventh birthday that he would never be, ‘just Harry’ again.

And now he was precisely that, ‘Just Harry’. Not famous, not notorious. Just Harry. The thought made him exult inside. Harry Potter on his way to another day at work, his colleagues around him, his lover probably still tucked up in bed at home. Right at that moment, Harry Potter didn’t care if he never used Magic again. Some tiny part of him missed it still. After all, it had been a feature of his life for seven years, but it had taken losing it, his Magic, to be truly content, no, happy. He grinned to himself as the van squelched into the yard of their latest place of employ.

Draco lay on his back, eyes open in the dim light. The sound of traffic he could tune out now. It had bothered him at first, like the many clicks and thumps of the central heating, the rattling of the letterbox when mail arrived, the shutters on the shop beneath them. All had made him jump or start. Harry assured him that this was normal. He could ignore it all now, including the mini-van that beeped outside the shop two doors down every school day, collecting another passenger for the special school some miles away.

He was thinking. In much the same way Harry was. Reflecting on his new life. He loved it. He loved his job. He felt lucky. He knew that Harry did a much more menial, if still necessary job. His job, he could love. He liked and respected his colleagues, and felt their respect in turn. This wasn’t what his so-called ‘training’ at his Father’s hands had prepared him for, and he was excited by this. He was making his own way, something he’d never thought possible. He was actually working, and loving it. He knew that his Mother approved, he idly wondered at the path she was taking, at the letter she had written, the implications therein.

His thoughts then turned to Harry as they often did. His smile was huge. This was the best bit about this whole Muggle thing. Living with Harry. They had odd spats, but, by and large, were excellent flat-mates. Draco was quite happy to take on his fair share of chores, sometimes more when Harry was working and he wasn’t.

Harry had always been told that the litmus test of a relationship was how money was handled. Draco, making more had taken on the slight lion’s share without demur, he paid the rent and Harry paid the bills. It worked perfectly. Draco chuckled. After them arguing throughout most of their school career, to be in such agreement now. Okay the odd minor thing, but Draco had never imagined that living with another could be so easy. He had thought he would be a total git to live with, but he wasn’t.

This living-like-a-Muggle lark was actually really good. He had friends, he owned furniture, he had a bank account, he worked, he loved Harry to distraction, they had a flat. Life was good, plus they didn’t live like hippies in a damned van!. Or rats in a fucking cave. He lifted an imaginary glass to his love, “Thanks for getting us out of the Bunker, Love”, he murmured into the room, then rolled over and grabbed his phone.

In moments, “Love you so much right now, my Harry. Thinking about you. Oh God, that fucking mouth of yours, round the head of my cock, my fingers inside you, making each other come. I’m yours tonight and forever, D xxx”, winged it’s way across time and space, making Harry blush and grin on receipt of it, folding his phone, pressing it to his lips, wincing. It took him a while before he was able to stand without embarrassment.

Harry barrelled into the flat that night, his eyes bright and his cheeks pink. Draco licked dry lips assessing his lover’s mood in a heartbeat, and turned the lights down on the cooker, before a rampant Harry claimed him, leaning them both out across the kitchen table, ripping at clothes until he had his Dragon’s legs over his shoulders and his cock buried balls-deep into his lover’s waiting heat, fucking him hard, Draco’s head hanging off the edge of the table. As they climaxed, Draco lifted his head to bite into Harry’s shoulder, one last savage thrust catapulting them into outer space.

As breath normalised, Draco giggled, “Would you like some dinner?”. Harry kissed his Dragon long and slow, “I haven’t finished with you yet, my sweet slut, but right now, food sounds good”. They disengaged. Draco cleaned them both, then in a post-coital daze served the food. They both partook heartily, legs twined around each other, feeding each other Thai green curry with coriander rice between kisses. When Draco got a smear of sauce on his lip, Harry licked it away.

Harry was just contemplating the idea of throwing his beloved face first over the table when one of the mobiles rang. “Damn!”, Harry made to rise. Draco held him back, “No, they’ll leave a message”, and pulled Harry to him. Then from the living room another phone rang. “Bollocks, someone really needs to speak to us”, Draco streaked into the lounge and grabbed the thing. Pansy.

She was clearly distressed and babbling a bit. Draco said, “Whoa, whoa, slow down, love. Who’s been arrested? What’s happened?”, the girl had obviously back-pedalled and was explaining things more slowly. Draco’s other hand raked distractedly through his hair as his eyes widened. He sank to the bench beside Harry, his phone glued to his ear. Harry was frowning at his lover’s expression. Draco held the phone down covering the mike with his thumb, “They need an Auror and a solicitor. Apparently eight of Nott’s crew tried to storm the Manchester cadre. There was a fight, the Police were brought in. Two of the cadre were arrested and Nott’s lot were carted off apparently breaking bail, but the two who were arrested had weed on them”.

Harry huffed out a breath, “Oh, Merlin!, give me the phone”, as he leapt up and found his own, flicking through his contact list, “ Hi, Pansy, it’s Harry, Draco just gave me a summary. I’ll go and wake the Bunker and bring Tonks or Alastor to you. You need to call Jephaniah Osgood at Kilmarnock. He’s the only solicitor we have amongst the movement. He knows Muggle law too. I’ll try and persuade Sev to go and get him. I’ll ring you back. Don’t panic, they’ll probably release your two and detain Nott’s bunch. Speak later. ‘Bye”, he hung up.

He speed-dialled Liverpool. A sleepy voice answered. “I need Sev Snape on the line, quickly please, we have an emergency at Manchester”. He waited a moment, then Sev’s voice, thick with sleep, came over the line, “Harry!. To what do I owe this pleasure of hearing your dulcet tones at this time of night?”. Harry chuckled, “No time for sarkiness, love. Manchester is in need of a solicitor and an Auror. You need to fetch Jephaniah from Kilmarnock and I’ll fetch Tonks or Alastor, the bikes are probably the fastest way”, Harry explained the situation.

He could hear Sev exhale, “Sorry, Sev, but I have to drive all night too, and be at work in the morning”, he broke the connection. Harry and Draco exchanged looks, they were still naked, “You’ll need to get dressed first, lover”, Draco grinned, passing Harry his clothes. Harry dressed, his phone at his ear, calling Kilmarnock, to be assured that Jephaniah was awaiting Severus.

In moments, he had texted his boss explaining he had an emergency and may be a little late for work tomorrow. He threw a few things into his backpack, climbed into his riding gear, gave Draco a kiss then left at a run down the stairs and out of the door. Draco heard the bike start and peel away. Damn!. Tonight had looked like turning into one of their epics. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Harry arrived at the Bunker in minutes. Tonks was on the door. Harry briefly outlined the situation and she shot off to wake a replacement and don some warm clothes at Harry’s instruction. In a short time she was ready. Harry adjusted Draco’s helmet straps to fit her, told her, “If you get sleepy, push your hands into my pockets and lay your head in my back, let the movement of the bike guide yours, don’t stiffen up as I go round bends and stuff otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Sorry this is a bit of a crash course, but this is an emergency”.

He adjusted the foot-pegs for Tonks’ shorter stature and kick-started the bike again. She climbed on behind and wiggled herself comfy, then stilled as Harry set off. At this time of night, the roads were reasonably quiet. They made good time to the end of the M1, then Harry pulled over. He called Sev with the code they used. He waited a short while, then his phone rang, “Hi, Harry. I’m on my way, I’m just outside Preston. I’ll call you back later,. Does Jephaniah know I’m coming to get him?”. Harry replied affirmatively. “I’ve got Tonks with me. We’re at Hendon. See you in Stockport, make straight for the main Police station on Hillgate. I believe that’s where they’ll be held for tonight. See you later”, he rang off.

Harry had to stop at Hilton Park on the M6. He’d been working all day and tiredness hit him on the long road north. Tonks had fallen asleep behind him somewhere around the turn-off for Coventry. He and Tonks had strong coffees in the service station, tasting vile but propelling Harry on through the night. They arrived at the Police Station just after midnight. Tonks posed as a relative to one of the incarcerated boys and she was led to the holding cells. The bored copper on duty left her to it. She shared a few words of reassurance with the two lads from the cadre. She knew them vaguely. They had been at school when she was albeit a few years behind her, but before Harry’s time. A Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw, if she recalled correctly. She shook her head at them with a gentle smile, “Next time you’re in a raid, for fucks sake, chuck your weed on the ground. The lawyer is on his way here. One of the Liverpool cadre has had to go all the way to Kilmarnock to fetch him. The lad that brought me here from London should be at work in the morning. I hope you realise what a hassle this is and how many people are helping you out right now”.

The two boys had the grace to look sheepish and apologise. She passed to the larger holding cell containing Nott and his cronies. They jeered at her at first. She fixed them with a level glare, raised her hands and all of them felt a painful crackle run through them as she wandlessly dowsed them brutally. She was angry that these irresponsible little Slytherin shits had caused all this trouble.

As she emerged into the waiting area, she was blazing. “At least one of them is on the other side, and I wouldn’t trust the others as far as I could throw them. The cadre was right to refuse them admission”. Harry was just closing his phone. They both sat on the long bench awaiting Sev’s arrival with the solicitor. She offered her lap for Harry to lay his head in, “Come on, you have to be at work tomorrow, you may as well catch some kip while you can”. Harry accepted the offer gratefully.

It was nearly 3 when Sev and the lawyer arrived. They had ridden hard through the night, Severus doing an average of just under 95 mph but he wasn’t caught. Tonks woke Harry gently and he winced at the harsh light as he came round. The four conversed before Jephaniah was taken behind the counter to the holding cells. Tonks said, “Do not, under any circumstances let that crew anywhere near any of the cadres, at least one of them is a Death-Eater, and the others all read badly, they all carry traces of Dark Magic”.

Jephaniah was led to his clients: the two Manchester boys. They were brought out and questioned in his company. They were to be held for a magistrate’s hearing in the morning. Severus agreed to stay. Harry phoned Pansy again and updated her and explained that Severus and Jephaniah needed a crash for the night. Which was offered, but not at the old site. Most of the people and equipment had already been moved to their new location, so the police had just been under the impression that the venue was to be used for an illegal party rather than it having been a squat that several dozen had been using for over a year.

It was gone 4:30 when Harry and Tonks took to the road again. Harry was a little refreshed by the sleep he’d had in the Police station and made good time back to London, stopping to stretch his legs at Watford Gap. He was back in time to be at work on time, but Joe took one look at his employee and sent him home sick for the day. The boy was clearly exhausted and Joe admired the lad for still turning up willing to do his share. “No, Harry, I got your text and I believe your emergency. Go home, lad, and we’ll see you tomorrow”. Harry bowed his head, “Sorry, Joe, I feel like a shit for this”. Joe placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders giving the boy a gentle shake, “You’re nearly out on your feet, lad. Go on, bugger off. See you in the morning”. Harry didn’t argue. In less than half an hour he was wearily unlocking the door to the flat.

Draco saw the state of Harry as he staggered up the stairs and had him in his arms in a heartbeat. Harry buried his head in his lover’s chest and slumped gratefully into strong arms. Draco could read his lover’s exhaustion and led him to the bedroom, undressed him and tucked him into bed. Harry was asleep in seconds, Draco’s arms around him.

Draco mused, it was amazing what you learned about someone by living with them, sharing your life and a bed with them. When Harry turned on his stomach, Draco gently released him. He had about half an hour before Harry woke up. He went into the kitchen in his dressing gown, tied a tea-towel around him and started to cook breakfast.

Sure enough, Harry was surfacing as it was ready. Draco brought it in on a tray. Harry sat up rubbing his eyes and the tray was laid across his lap. With a sleepy smile, he drew Draco to him for a thank-you kiss then started in on his meal, not stopping ‘til the plate was clean.

Harry slept again, Draco sprawled out beside him, propped up on his elbows, lying on his front, reading his newest novel. Something else he liked about Mundanes, Draco decided, he really liked Muggle Science Fiction writing, giving himself up to the latest story.

As Harry’s eyes slowly opened, it was to see his lover propped on one elbow, deep into his story, his eyes flicking back and forth across the page, holding the book close to his face a slight frown between his brows. Harry made a move and Draco’s attention shifted. He put his book down and welcomed his lover back to the world, with kisses and hugs, “Thanks for breakfast, baby”, Harry murmured. Being answered with a slow kiss that heated his blood, touches that clouded his senses. Draco mumbled as he covered his lover with his body, “Well, we were interrupted last night”. Harry laughed aloud and gave himself up. To his lover’s touches and kisses. He opened up willingly to him, Draco dictating the pace, nice and slow, feeling everything, then plunging into Harry’s willing tight heat over and over until they shrieked their release. In a tiny corner of his mind, Draco hoped that the furniture shop beneath them was empty right now as they both came down together.

They spent a sweet languid day together. They went out that night, Harry feeling considerably refreshed. They had a meal and went to the pictures. A beautiful film that left both a little teary. The tale of two men who met year after year in the same place, they’d married, borne children, but their real love was for each other in a time when such a thing was unacceptable. Draco cried buckets although he tried not to show it as one of the characters visited his now-dead lover’s parental home holding the shirt that his beloved had last worn as if they were about to dance. Draco had balled knuckles held in front of his face, tears falling freely. Harry gathered him into his arms as the film finished.

“Sorry, Harry, it was the scene with the shirt that undid me. I have nightmares that when He’s finished with you, all that’s left is a shirt that still smells of you”, he turned frightened eyes to Harry as they waited for the last Tube of the night.

Harry glanced up and down the platform, everyone was ignoring them. He took Draco into his arms and kissed him, “I’m sorry, baby. I really wanted to see that film. There’s been so much hype about it. I didn’t mean it to affect you so much”. In his arms, Draco smiled. “Harry it was brilliant. Good stories should affect you, stay with you, disturb you a little with their intensity. It was just the loss bit that rattled me. I didn’t know that that Death-Eater was Severus. I thought as I was dragged away, that I was glad you didn’t end your life on your knees. I saw you struggle to your feet as I was dragged around the corner and I couldn’t see you anymore. I was proud of you, Harry, even while I was in agony and I was sure you were going to die”, he couldn’t help the tears. The train drew in and Harry found them both seats in a quiet compartment, holding his Dragon as the train took them home.