Dragon Hunt

“Moody!” Sirius called happily, pushing open the French doors to the balcony where he had just landed on his broom. “What—“

“Just came from the Dursley’s,” he grumbled. “Found a dead Deatheater apparently mauled by a dragon.”

“At the Dursley’s?” Sirius asked, confused.

“Family’s all right and we got a crew over there now memory charming all the neighbors who saw anything,” the weather Auror explained. “The young one, Dudley. Apparently, Harry had given him the egg for safekeeping.”

“Oh, gods—“

“It’s all right. Draco came and picked it up. According the muggle, a white and black dragon crash landed in his back yard and killed the Deatheater. He called for Dobby. The white dragon turned into a man. Dobby gave him a pack of supplies, Dudley gave him the egg after a bit of an argument and explanation. Draco told him that Harry was the black dragon, but that he couldn’t turn human.”

“Makes sense,” Charlie piped in. “When Draco first turned, he couldn’t turn human for awhile.”

“Yes,” Moody agreed. “But, what we should all really pay attention to is the fact there was a Deatheater there. It’s means they’re being hunted. They won’t return until they either know it is safe, or they’re back to full strength.”

“So, you Aurors have a job for yourselves,” Sirius said grimly. “What about the Minister? What did he say when you gave him the body?”

Moody laughed. “After screaming and cowering in fear?” he asked lightly. “After we managed to convince him that the Dark Lord really was dead, he wanted a full account.”

“What did you tell him?”

Moody shrugged. “The truth, more or less. I told him that the Order of the Phoenix had spies including Draco in his circle, that through their information, we had tracked him down. I told him Harry and his boyfriend were both heroes and they were both in protective custody until it is sure that they are safe from further Deatheater attack.”

“He accepted that? Didn’t demand that Harry come in and smile for the cameras?” Sirius asked gruffly.

“I made it clear to the Minister that both Harry and Draco were wounded from the battle and that they had no interest in the cameras and frankly, that I wouldn’t be allowing them to risk further attempts at their lives by putting them in public until we were sure it was absolutely safe.”

Sirius nodded. “Well, at least they’re safe for now.”

“I’ve got good news for you, though,” Moody said with a sly smile. Sirius looked at him expectantly. “We were interrogating some of the captured Deatheaters. One of them was Peter Pettigrew. He was swearing up a storm about how you had been at the battle, had fought on the side of the Light. When they tried to get more out of him regarding that, he laughed about how you were a patsy and that he had killed the Potters and the others, how you’d been tortured and imprisoned and ostracized all because the Ministry was too blind to look for truth and would take whatever was spoon-fed to them as fact,” he laughed.

Sirius looked at him strangely. “I—“

“He was under Veritaserum. I confirmed most of his story myself. And look what I have for you?” Moody suggested, lifting up a scroll and handing it over.

Sirius took the scroll and read it, his brow furrowing with each sentence. Remus stepped to his side, attempting to read over his shoulder. “What does it say?” he asked.

Sirius looked up at Moody. “Is this real?” Moody nodded. “I’ve been pardoned. All my rights have been restored. I—I’m free,” he sighed happily.





“You look better,” Draco said gently as he watched Harry dry himself one handed. The bruises had faded more. “I don’t know how, but—“

“Magic,” Harry said lightly. “Right?”

“I guess it’s possible.” Draco shrugged as he stepped into the sleep pants he’d found. “I still need to have a look at that arm.”

Harry immediately stopped drying himself, dropping the towel and stepped up next to his mate. Draco was struck by the scent of his mate’s clean skin, the sandalwood and lavender from the water, but more than that. His mate was confused, but happy. His breath washed over Draco’s face and Draco shivered. Harry smelled like heat and desire and comfort and pleasure. He smelled intoxicating.

Draco cleared his throat and tried to focus, running his hands over Harry’s shoulder, feeling the tense muscle and swollen joint. “It’s out of socket,” he whispered, afraid to disturb the air around him. If felt so electric and so pure. He ran his fingers lightly down Harry’s arm, feeling the goosebumps jump from his mate’s flesh. He reached Harry’s hand and lifted it up, bracing it on his own shoulder. “Hold your arm straight,” he said softly as he took half a step back so that Harry could extend his elbow. He glanced up nervously and saw Harry’s emerald gaze pinning him hotly. Draco gulped. “This is going to hurt,” he said and then pressed on Harry’s shoulder quickly before Harry had a chance to stiffen up.

Harry screamed in pain and Draco folded him in his arms, curling to the ground with him. Harry took a couple of calming breaths before looking up at Draco. “How’d you learn to do that?”

Draco shrugged. “Quidditch injury. My arm comes out every once in awhile.”

Harry again looked up at Draco, this time through long lashes. Draco’s skin began to hum and he was forced to swallow. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out before he managed to check himself.

Harry smiled and leaned in, kissing Draco’s lips lightly. Draco pulled away shaking his head, laughing at himself. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, if you don’t have your memories, love.”

Harry fixed him with a hurt look that quickly turned calculating. Draco felt pinned. He couldn’t move away, couldn’t even look away. It was so odd. This was Harry, his Harry, and yet he was different, stronger. It had to be the dragon in him, it—his thoughts were cut off. “I don’t care,” Harry said simply and before Draco could ponder the words’ meaning, he found himself lifted from the floor fluidly and tossed onto the bed like a doll.

“Harry!” Draco shouted indignantly, the towel tied to his waist having flown off in mid-air, leaving him completely naked in the center of the bed. “I—“

His words were cut off by a pair of insistent lips and an even more insistent tongue. He thought about pushing Harry away for about half a second until those hands, those strong, callused, familiar hands tangled into his hair and then he had no recourse but to melt.

Draco felt himself being pulled into a sitting position and then Harry pulled back to look him in the eye. What he was looking for, Draco couldn’t tell. “Your purr is bewitching, knowing your thoughts, your feelings, your—desires. It’s so much.”

“What am I thinking, feeling, desiring?” Draco asked coyly.

Harry smiled. “You’re thinking that when I get my memory back I’ll be upset that you made love with me when I had no memory. You’re feeling like you don’t really care because I’m too enticing,” he said with a smirk. “And you desire me, deep, deep inside you, groaning your name.”

Draco groaned just at his mate’s words. “Yesss,” he hissed his head falling backwards

Harry smiled and eased his mate back down onto his back. He leaned over, brushing his lips over Draco’s once more, his hands loosened their grip in the blond locks and slid down Draco’s neck, feeling the fluttering pulse. He replaced his hands with his mouth and allowed his hands to wonder further. It was bizarre. He knew this body, knew his mate, and yet—it was all new. “Tell me about our first time together,” Harry commanded gently.

Draco groaned, trying to pull himself back together and focus. “What?”

Harry didn’t stop his ministrations: hands brushing over fevered skin, tongue lapping at the love bite he’d just provided his mate. “Tell me about our first time. How did we meet?”

Draco laughed lightly, running his hand through Harry’s thick locks. “Two different questions with far different answers, love.” He groaned again when his nipple was pinched and the tongue moved to sooth that hurt. “We met long before we got together. But, when I came into maturity, when I got my powers, I hunted for you, stalked you. You refused my touch for a long time. I thought you might never have me,” Draco admitted.

“What changed?” Harry asked as his tongue licked a trail down to Draco’s naval at the same time his hand ran up the inside of Draco’s thigh.

Draco shuttered and tried to focus. “I was kidnapped.”

Harry’s movements stopped and Draco growled in frustration. “Please don’t stop!” he cried.

Harry moved back up to look into Draco’s eyes. “Is this our first time?” he asked seriously. Then shook his head. “No, we have a child.” He then grinned before Draco could begin an explanation. “You make a habit of getting kidnapped,” he teased kissing Draco’s lips again as his hand brushed over the blond’s arousal. Draco gasped and shuttered. “You were kidnapped? This changed our relationship?” Harry asked.

Draco whined. “Can we talk later?” he pled, gripping Harry’s hair again as he moved down his body once again.

“No,” he answered simply, teasingly. He grabbed one of the bed ties and wrapped it around Draco’s wrist, tying them quickly to the headboard above him.

“Harry, please!”

Harry laughed gently. Draco could feel his breath ghosting over his own abdomen. “No,” he said simply. “I think I like seeing you flustered and anxious and wanting.”

Drace whined. “I fought my way free and you were there, already on your way to rescue m-AHH!” he called when Harry’s hand slid quickly beneath him and breeched him without warning. “Harry!”

“Did we touch then?” Harry asked.

“Uuuuhh,” Draco groaned, pressing back, trying to work that single digit deeper.

“Draco?” He whined in response. “Did we touch then?”

“No,” Draco murmured. “I was ashamed. I ran. You—chased.” Harry added a second finger, working them in and out in a steady rhythm.

“Did I catch you?” Harry asked.

“In—In the g—garden,” Draco panted out. “Under—uh, Harry—under the—the willow.” Harry smiled at his mate’s difficulty forming words.

“And then we touched?” Harry asked when he added a third finger and curled them to brush that spot deep within Draco. Draco cried out, arching off the bed, almost losing Harry’s fingers. “There in the garden, we touched?”

“You tortured me first,” Draco complained. “T—teasing me, t-tell—telling me to touch you, knowing that I c—uh—couldn’t, sa—saying it had to be my, uh, Harry—harder, choice. Please, love, I need more. I—Please!” he begged.

“But then?” Harry prompted, ignoring his mate’s pleas. Draco couldn’t form words. He was lost in the feel of his mate’s finger’s working him, his mate’s breath against his belly, and cock, another tease. “Draco.” Draco continued to push back onto the fingers within him, ignoring the questions. “Draco?” Harry prompted again, ignored. He removed his hand and Draco cried at the loss. “Tell me about the touch.”

“Uummm,” Draco whined, struggling with his bonds. “Our fingers threaded together and it felt—like fire. It felt like fire through my whole body. I couldn’t tell where I ended and you began. I—It was overwhelming. I—ug—couldn’t breath. I wanted to kiss you so badly. I needed to—“

Harry knelt between Draco’s legs and leaned up over him, catching the crystal blue eyes. “And did you kiss me?” Harry asked.

“No,” Draco whined. “We were pulled apart again and I thought I would die. I wanted to die, being ripped away from you.”

Harry smiled at him. “I would never let that happen,” he whispered, kissing Draco softly. “We will always be together. Always, my dragon.” With that, he settled back on his knees, lifting Draco’s legs over his shoulders and pressing himself into that luscious heat.

“Harry!” Draco cried out, losing himself immediately, splashing come up onto Harry’s chest and neck. Harry seemed to smile at that and turned his head to kiss the inside of Draco’s knee. “Harry!” he shouted again, trembling with aftershocks as his lover continued to press into him steadily.

Harry reached for Draco’s cock, stroking it back to life quickly. “Faster!” the dragon demanded and Harry obliged with both his hand and body. Again his head turned, sucking at the soft flesh just above the side of Draco’s knee.

He could feel his orgasm approaching, could feel himself tightening up, but he needed Draco to come with him. He needed his mate to—“Draco,” he groaned. “Draco!” he called, trying to get his mate to look at him, to look him in the eye. “Dragon, please!” he groaned and Draco’s eyes unscrewed and fixed upon Harry’s electric green orbs. The moment they had, Harry erupted, screaming his completion as Draco did the same.