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 59: Out Of The Frying Pan…Into The Fire

Draco had endured a truly miserable day. First there was the fiasco with Harry this morning, which had left his heart smarting and raw, aching with tension all day. Then he’d pissed George off by stumbling onto their information network, and the conversation afterwards had made it clear that no help would be forthcoming from that quarter. His headache had only gotten worse, since he hadn’t eaten anything since the day before, and the growling and gurgling from his stomach was exceedingly annoying. To top things off, even though he had money in hand, he was recognized at two different restaurants in Diagon Alley, and it had taken a lengthy and patient discussion at the third before they would finally serve him.

Diagon Alley had been full of familiar faces and places, but the flashbacks just hadn’t come. That was one small relief. He remembered shop doors he’d begged in front of, but the images of them in his memory were hazy and indistinct. He even passed a corner he’d nearly been stoned to death on, and all he’d felt was a faint shudder of discomfort. Snape would probably never forgive him if he actually did it, but he considered breaking form and just hugging the man the next time they met.

His lunch had been a bit disappointing as well. Perhaps it was that they didn’t like him, knowing his identity, and simply served him without putting any effort into preparing his meal, or perhaps it was that Molly was a better cook than these prats could ever hope to hire, but the food just seemed bland and unappetizing, despite his hunger. Either way, he was content to simply enjoy the feeling of buying a meal with money he’d earned…honestly. At least the Butterbeer he’d ordered had been as good as any other Butterbeer he’d ever had, and it slightly improved his mood when he took his check and paid the staff for his meal.

He didn’t have a lot of time left before he ought to get back to work, but given his lousy day, and the small measure of cash left in his pockets, it occurred to Draco that a little shopping might improve his mood too. A new shirt was within his budget. Just one. Something sharp and sleek. Preferably in green. Harry would probably like seeing him in something like that, and looking attractive to Harry was at the forefront of his mind an awful lot lately.

That notion pushed forward the memory of their morning encounter, both good and bad. He couldn’t be sure that Harry saw him as a slut and a whore, but the possibility was very real. If it were true, how would he counter something like that? Dress down? Try to be shier than this morning? Acting hesitant about sex, or sexuality, seemed a plausible way to calm Harry, but Draco still hated that idea. He’d waited his entire life, even if that only consisted of a little more than nineteen years, to figure out what he wanted. He’d spent more than half his life hating the very idea of what he was, and the only experiences he’d ever had had been nightmarish, until recently. Until Harry. Now sex looked pretty good, even if everything had gone pear-shaped afterwards.

Gladrags was quiet, given that Monday was not a heavy shopping day, and that suited Draco just fine. It only took a few minutes, even without help from the scowling staff, to track down a shirt he liked. Long-sleeved, emerald green and vaguely shimmering material. Perfect. It was easy to feel more confident with clothes that suited his tastes, and he felt just a little like his old self when he paid for it. Maybe the staff were right prats, and maybe he wasn’t the most popular person in Diagon Alley these days, but he wasn’t homeless, helpless or unemployed. He made a final stop at an apothecary for a few other small purchases, and ignored the glares of others with an admirable stoicism. A quick spell and his packages were neatly shrunk and tucked into a pocket. The nature of his purchases had made him blush, but if his plans were to be made real anytime soon, he’d need them.

Draco started the last of the journey back to work with a spring in his step that had been missing for a long time. Ever since Snape had exercised his talents, Draco had felt better in so many small ways, and the knowledge that he could still find a little happiness on a day this lousy was a great comfort…right up until the spell hit him in the back, leaving him completely paralyzed, and a rough arm snaked out to haul him into the alleyway.

-----------------------------------------------------

Harry Apparated into Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes with a muted ’crack’. He made his way straight to Ella’s desk with a look on his face that would have made strong men tremble.

“Draco! Where is he? Is he here?”

Ella looked shocked and stunned by Harry’s savage tone. He’d always been unfailingly polite until now. His body language and tone screamed ‘emergency’.

“He went to lunch. About half an hour ago. He should have been back just about now. Is something wrong?”

Harry was already thinking on the fly, marching toward Draco’s office for something he’d need.

“Don’t know, but it’s better to make sure. If he comes back before I do, let him know to stay put!”

Draco’s office was empty and quiet, as well as very tidy. Harry looked for the one thing he needed now. On the back of Draco’s chair, a single fallen blond hair stood out against the black fabric. Harry picked it up carefully, then spelled it to hover in the air. Under his breath, a series of words were uttered while he breathed out and onto the spinning blond thread before him. In seconds, it began to glow, encapsulated by shimmering golden light, until it was almost three inches in diameter. Harry uttered a single command.

“Find him.”

The ball of light shot down the hall for the doorway to Diagon Alley, and Harry was running behind it like hell itself was on his heels.

---------------------------------------------------


Draco was aware of the stink of stale sweat coming from the man that had dragged him down the alley and into the shadows.

“I knew I’d finally catch one of you two alone someday! Let’s just get you situated, and you can answer a few questions for me, Mr. Malfoy!”

Draco was unceremoniously dumped onto the ground, and his gaze centered on the haggard figure of Auror Dawlish. The man had Draco’s wand in his pocket, and he was fumbling with the cork to a small vial of liquid, a feverish gleam in his beady eyes.

“Recognize this, Malfoy? Veritaserum. You’ll be singing a different tune in just a minute or so. Then we’ll get to the bottom of this and I can close this case once and for all! I’m adjusting the spell to let you swallow and talk, but don’t bother yelling…I’ve spelled this alley for silence.”

A muttered incantation later, Draco gasped for breath, wide-eyed with panic. Veritaserum would have him spilling secrets in no time, and these were secrets that couldn’t afford to be shared. An idiot like Dawlish couldn’t be trusted with knowledge of Horcruxes. It’d be all over the press by Wednesday!

“No! Please! I didn’t do anything wrong! I was cleared by the Ministry, and I‘ve talked to Kingsley...I swear it! You don’t have to…”

Dawlish grabbed hold of Draco’s jaw and poured the Veritaserum into his mouth, then clamped his mouth shut and pinched his nostrils closed while Draco struggled to spit the stuff out. It didn’t work, and worst of all, Draco realized that he’d taken more than twenty times the amount he’d ever been dosed with before. When he’d been questioned by the Ministry, he’d never had more than three drops at a time. There was no telling what this much of the stuff might do!

Draco’s struggles ceased, and he lost his train of thought as the Veritaserum kicked in fast and hard. His vision blurred, and his tongue suddenly felt heavy in his mouth. Dawlish loosened his grip and snickered to himself.

“That’s a boy, Malfoy. Now…let’s have the truth. What’s Potter been up to? And aside from being his little tart, how do you fit into all this?”

Draco’s world was out of focus, and his subconscious let words and notions bubble up without order or meaning.

“Killing. Vol…Voldemort. ’cruxes. Harry. Harry’s nice. Warm. Mmm…I like Harry. ’s good to me.”

Dawlish frowned. “Damn it! You’re not making any sense! Who’s the killer?! How does Potter do it?”

Draco hiccupped, then giggled. “Weasels an’ ferrets an’ sever a snake. Haha!”

Dawlish delivered a stinging slap to Draco’s face, leaving a bright red handprint across his cheek.

“Snap out of it! ANSWER ME! What’s going on?!”

Draco looked up with clouded gray eyes and a goofy smile, and told Dawlish the absolute truth.

“Yer really, really, really fucked.”

Dawlish didn’t quite have time to register the significance of that statement before a matched set of spells hit him in the back, sending him tumbling onto Draco, Stupefied to within an inch of his life.

Nymphadora Tonks pulled Dawlish off of Draco, while Remus Lupin checked Draco by spell, looking after his health and breaking the enchantment that bound him.

“You alright, Draco?”

Draco blearily stared at Remus Lupin, clearly having difficulty recognizing him.

“Woof-indor. Hic! Pssst! I like puppies. Wan’ Harry. I wanna see Har-harry!”

Draco was attempting to scratch behind his ears, and Remus rolled his eyes. There was no communicating with Draco while he was this high. He turned back to his wife, who already had Dawlish Immobilized and thoroughly searched.

“Good eye, love. I can’t believe you recognized him. Dawlish looks like he’s gone mental. Draco’s alright, but the poor thing’s doped to high heaven. Veritaserum overdose. He’ll be out of it for the rest of the day. We’ll have to get him home. What can you do with Dawlish?”

Nymphadora sighed. “It looks like it’s Azkaban for Dawlish. The Ministry frowns on abuse of power by Aurors, and he was already on administrative leave. He’s violated a half a dozen laws and regulations, and some of them are major. Black market Veritaserum, illegally administered? That alone would put him away. Throw in assault and battery against a citizen, and violating the terms of his leave by harassing Draco when Kingsley specifically told him to leave Harry and Draco alone, well…it’ll probably be five years before he sees sunlight again. I hate to see an Auror go bad, but good riddance!”

Nymphadora handed Remus Draco’s wand, then gave her husband a quick kiss. “You take Draco home, and I’ll cart off Dawlish here. By the way…you were great. I spotted him but lost him, and that keen sniffer of yours picked up his trail. Between the two of us, we make a nice team. Wish you were an Auror, love. I’d have you on my team any day!”

Remus smirked. “Like we’d get anything done besides a decent snog. Thanks, love. Let’s…”

A ball of golden light dodged into the alley, zipping straight toward them. Remus shielded Draco with his body by instinct, and Tonks had her wand out and ready for anything. A second later, Harry rounded the corner like the Hogwarts Express at full steam, skidding to a halt a couple of feet from them. As soon as he saw Draco on the ground, wide-eyed and mumbling, Harry lost it.

“DRACO! What happened? Who did this? Is that fucking Dawlish?! I’ll kill ’im! That fuck! What has he done?! What did he do to Draco?!”

Harry was panting like a bellows between shouted questions, and the air around them started to move, whipping papers and stray bits of trash into a cyclone. Tonks took a step back, while Remus stood up and spoke calmly.

“He’s fine, Harry. He needs to go home and sleep it off. Dawlish is headed for Azkaban. You can take Draco home now. He’s asking for you.”

Remus stepped out of the way, and let Harry see Draco, who was still mumbling nonsense to himself. Harry faltered, and the whirling debris of the alley slid back to the ground, the golden light above Draco winked out, and then he lunged down and snatched Draco into his arms.

“That’s it, love. I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you. We’ll just go home, right? Shh. No worries. Everything’s fine.”

Harry looked up from Draco for a moment, glanced at Dawlish, and something feral lit in his eyes for just a second.

“Get that fucking trash away from him! If I see him again, Auror or no, I’ll paint the place with his fucking blood. He’s just damn lucky you found him first!”

Even Remus was taken aback by Harry’s sudden vehemence. Tonks grabbed hold of Dawlish’s hand, nodded to Remus, and Apparated away. Remus stood in the alley facing Harry alone, wondering seriously if Harry was safe on his own.

“Easy does it, Harry. Draco’s fine. Dawlish doped him with Veritaserum. He’ll come around sometime tonight. Do you want some help getting him home?”

Harry was breathing a little slower, choking on curses and pointless anger that he couldn’t justify venting on his old friend.

“No. Go to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes main office. Tell them Draco will be back tomorrow. Tell them what happened. I’m going home.”

With a sudden, muted ‘crack’, Harry and Draco were gone. Remus Lupin put his hands in his pockets, and made his way down the alley and out into the street, wondering all the while what had happened to the dark-haired little boy he remembered from just a few short years ago.

---------------------------------------------------


Harry Apparated right into their bedroom, and placed Draco gently onto the bed. When he tried to pull away, Draco tugged at his sleeves and hands, pulling him back, suddenly sounding clearer.

“…no…don’ go ’way. Wan’ my Harry. Herey. Harry herey, haha. ‘M so ’n love wi’ you.”

Harry’s anger and fear melted away like ice in the sunlight. He suddenly felt tired, and shaky, and very, very old. It was impossible to resist the cloudy gray eyes that kept drifting out of focus, but clearly begged him not to leave. Harry kicked off his boots and laid down beside Draco, letting his boyfriend curl close to him, sniffling wetly into Harry’s shirt. Harry kissed Draco’s feverish head, and whispered soothingly to him.

“I love you too. I won’t go anywhere. I’m all yours. Forever and always. There’s nothing in this world I love more than you.”

“Fervor ‘n awas…luff you.”

Draco hummed softly into Harry’s chest, purring approval. Then his head shifted back and to the side, looking up at Harry, eyes ridiculously wide and serious.

“’m sorry I made you sick. ’s ’kay. I know ’m dirty….an’ ’m a whore. I was jus’ so…so horny. Whory…horny, Harny, whory.” Draco broke into another fit of giggles, then started crying into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry didn’t quite understand at first, then enlightenment stole upon him. Draco thought he’d been nauseated…because...because of Draco’s time in London. No wonder he’d taken off that morning! He’d thought Harry was disgusted with Draco’s past. It made sense, but it ripped Harry’s heart apart to think that Draco had spent the day thinking anything like that.

“That’s not true, love! You didn’t make me sick. I made myself sick. It had nothing to do with you. You were beautiful, and perfect, and I don’t want to do anything like this morning with anyone else. Only you. I love you so much it hurts. I don’t even know how to say it, love. There’s nothing wrong with you, and I love you just the way you are. You could never, never make me sick of you. Understand?”

“You mean ’at, Har-harry?”

“Of course I mean it. I can’t believe you even thought those things. I don’t care about your past. It’s all over. I love you right now, today, no matter what.”

Draco flopped contentedly back into Harry’s lap, sighing happily.

“Too…too goof…good for…me. ’m a liar, an’ no good, an’ sc-schem…hic!…ing. An’ you luff me an-way. ’s…so good. My Harry.”

Harry stroked Draco’s mussed hair away from his eyes, smiling and tearing up in spite of himself. Even healed, Draco still wrestled with his past, and Harry could barely stand that he was unable to make Draco believe that he wasn’t still hated for the things he’d done in school. What Harry didn’t know was that Draco was referring to his current deceptions, and not those of the past, and it was only by the slimmest of margins that he hadn’t said something more incriminating.

“You aren’t any of those things, love. You need to rest. I’ll stay with you…so don’t worry, but you need to sleep this off.”

Harry slid down a little, wrapping an arm around Draco, who suddenly wriggled away and started fumbling with his shirt buttons.

“Too…t’ warm. ’s hot. Too hot.”

Harry sat up and helped Draco, who was having serious difficulty with even basic motor skills, and a certain amount of giggling was involved, but he finally got Draco’s shirt off. Before he could turn around from discarding the shirt, Draco had flopped onto his back and wriggled out of his slacks, and Harry found Draco sprawled luxuriously across the covers in nothing but a very attractive looking, but very scanty, thong of silky, dark green material. Draco smiled with lazy-lidded eyes, and rolled a little to his side, displaying his backside to Harry provocatively, if a little clumsily.

The back of the thong consisted of only a single, incredibly slender, green string.

Harry’s glands ignited, and he clamped them back down under control, forcing himself to look away from the spectacle before him. Draco cooed to him, slurring the occasional word.

“D’you like? You bought this…these…for me. B’ you didn’ know.”

Harry mustered all his strength. He just had to get Draco under the covers and keep him still long enough to drift off to sleep. He wouldn’t dare touch Draco…that way…in a state like this. Draco had no idea what he was saying or doing, and it would be hours before he was back in his right mind. In the meantime, Harry would just have to cope. Somehow.

“You’re beautiful. Very beautiful, love. But you need to rest. Just ’til the serum wears off, okay? You don’t know what you’re doing right now, but if you just take a little nap, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Draco clambered across the bed on all fours, and started climbing into Harry’s lap, and Harry found himself more or less covered in pale, nearly naked, blond Slytherin, while his own self control hung by a thread. A second later, Harry was being sloppily snogged, and was painfully aware of the way Draco’s erection was poking out of the band of his thong and into Harry’s stomach. Draco interrupted the snogging just long enough to mumble a few more words, all the while trying to pull Harry’s t-shirt up.

“Wan’ you so bad. Wan’ new memo…memories…good ones. Wi’ you, Harry.”

Draco’s arms were under Harry’s shirt, soft and warm against his chest, and Harry’s pulse was burning and thundering in his ears. He barely dared to fight back, since the idea of handling Draco roughly was even more terrifying to him than this, and Draco’s next words chipped at Harry’s resolve. They came as a whisper, while Draco held himself close to Harry, grinding clumsily on Harry’s straining lap, as he worked his tongue and teeth along Harry’s neck.

“Wan’ you inside me. For weeks. All I…all I think ‘bout. I wanna make you come…from…for me. Jus’ for me, ‘cause you love me. Mmm…make love t’ me, Harry.”

Draco was so warm, and close…and very, very next-to-naked. Harry was answering every kiss with a kiss of his own, and he wasn’t exactly sure when his shirt had disappeared. When Draco slipped down and started fumbling with the fly of Harry’s jeans, Harry came back to himself, briefly, blessedly, cruelly free of the unstoppable influence of Draco’s mouth. Panting from desperation and barely contained desire, Harry made his plea.

“St-stop! Wait, love…I’m sorry. I can’t…can’t do this. You’re stoned on Veritaserum, Draco. This isn’t right. I want…I want the first…our first time…to be because we’re both ready. You deserve better…better than this. Please.”

Draco paused in his fumbling, one hand already down Harry’s boxers, a look of confusion, mingled with desire and adoration, on his face. He puzzled out Harry’s words for a moment longer, then smirked broadly, swaying just a little before he spoke, still idly caressing Harry’s stiffened and aching flesh, a vicious reminder of what Harry was frantically trying to refuse.

“You…you said it. Verta…serum. Truth posh…potion. I cand…couldn’ lie to you. You…you’ll always nuh-know this…this is how you m-make me really feel. Shhh. Firs’ time c’n be a ’nother time. Let…let me give you this…firs‘.”

Harry gasped as Draco pulled the fly of his boxers open and fumblingly directed Harry’s erection through the slot in the cloth. A heartbeat later, a velvet-soft tongue and skillful lips were working in tandem with a hand that knew by instinct what would please. The protest on his lips died a sudden and absolute death, and Harry’s world exploded.


TBC!!!