Gay Aurors

Over the course of what felt like a hellish week, Harry Potter's life had been pulled up by a mad Wizard of Oz-level twister, turned over, shaken about and then dropped on a wicked witch named Lavender Brown. While Ron moved back to the Burrow and the comfort of his mum and da to help him take care of the three children that weren't likely even his, Harry did his best to cajole and intimidate Lavender into an answer.

The years using the Polyjuice potion had not been kind to her, and her body was now rather bulbous, her skin magically saggy and full of silvery veins. In spite of this, she refused to give up what had become of Hermione Granger beyond what she'd told Draco when he woke her up. There were still magical lesions from where the purple frogs had cascaded from her forehead and the way they pulled her skin as they ran down her. Dark magic, but technically not forbidden. Draco knew his boundaries.

Of course, the story that Draco got from her had to do with a colony of freed house-elves creating a liberation army outside of the highlands. Harry was inclined to believe that Lavender was making it up, but Ron, quite sobered by what all had transpired and with more hope than Harry had seen in his eyes, had packed up to follow and see if it was true.

As for Draco, Harry hadn't seen him to try and apologize or explain to him. In retrospect, he could see how ridiculous he'd been. It wasn't as if Draco was the first person he'd ever kissed and he would've been just as narked if Draco had thrown a wobbly like that and bailed.

That said, Harry didn't regret following Ron out that door. It was instinctive and tainted by his anger with Draco sucking other cocks, but once he caught up to him, Ron was shivering and hysterical. He'd had children with that woman-- that woman who was not his Hermione, was not his wife. He'd settled in to have a family with her and while he knew she'd been odd, he'd been too blinded with getting her in the bum to notice that Lavender Mary Sue had inserted herself into that role. Ron had been so desperate, that Harry thought he might well do himself harm and therefore took him in for the night after a quick note to Molly to take care of the kids.

Every day, Harry came into work with the hopes that he would see Draco, that they could talk, but each day Kingsley informed him that Draco was on a special assignment that he didn't need a partner on. Harry missed the little things Draco would do, like leaving pornographic toys on his desk, or sucking off ice. It was perverted, but now that it wasn't happening, he started to really appreciate how much effort Draco really was putting into their flirtation.

With Ron gone, there wasn't anyone likely to tattle on his indiscretion with Draco. Well, aside from Lavender, but her time was limited. If they didn't find Hermione soon, she was scheduled for the Kiss. At the moment, Harry was inclined to think of no finer person to receive it.

After several days of not really speaking to anyone besides Kingsley and finishing up with the paperwork, Harry asked Kingsley if Draco was assigned out of town. Though Kingsley made much of the fact that he could not officially answer that question due to the "special circumstances" of what Draco was up to, something about Harry's harried hygiene likely spoke to his need to see his partner. Harry caught Kingsley's curious glance at his demeanor, but otherwise, Harry couldn't be arsed to care. The answer was that Draco was still in town and likely at his flat.

In the spirit of needing to show Draco that he did actually care and that he was over whatever madness had possessed him, Harry picked up flowers on the way to Draco's flat. It wasn't as if he could write this visit off as anything other than personal anyhow, and it was time to address their issues outside of using the work excuse. Plus, he needed to let Draco know that he was over whatever nefarious past with Kirley-- or anyone-- that there was, although he still grit his teeth whenever he thought of anyone putting anything near that mouth. His mouth. The only mouth he'd had his cock in and the only mouth he wanted it in. Right. He was going to have to get a grip and push it out of his mind. He had a sudden sympathy for how Ron had felt about Hermione sixth year. Inferior. Tongue-tied. Stupid. Like he wouldn't measure up.

Then again, according to Draco, Harry was the only man he was having it off with, and that had to count for something. He stopped off at a flower seller, picking an assortment of rolling roses and python peonies and dancing daises and took the lift up to Draco's floor.

The bell chimed and the doors rolled open. As if on cue, Kirley Duke opened the door of the flat to pick up the current issue of the Prophet from the floor. He stood, keeping his glare on Harry and his sneer as cocky as he could make it. Kirley wore a bright paisley silk dressing gown, opened but for the belt loosely tied in front. His long legs were well-muscled and led to his boxer briefs that were a bit better filled out that Harry would've preferred. On his chest, that was likewise cut from stone, were a series of protective runes that floated over his olive skin like the thin sail of magic.

They were arcane as far as runes went, although he remembered them all thanks to the early days where Hermione had helped him study for the written Auror tests. He could picture them on the flashcards even as they turned and flitted up to form a dragon sigil. While Harry wasn't an expert on symbolic magic, it looked like a symbol of protection.

Kirley snorted, "Potter. I'd invite you in, but he's still sleeping and doesn't want to see you ever again." His face held a placid sneer until he noticed Harry looking down at his chest. Then he appeared shifty. "Doesn't matter. I'm here now and you're standing out there with the lame flowers. Sod off, Potter."

Harry was still grinning as the door slammed as the puzzle pieces fell into place. Draco wasn't dating Kirley Duke, he was protecting him. Dating was a convenient cover for when Duke wanted to go out, but now that he thought back to the mini show at the Leaky, Draco was very clearly protecting him, and not watching. In fact, he'd spent more time flirting with Harry than doing his job. Was Draco moonlighting as a bodyguard?

It didn't explain why the Ministry seemed to be allowing it, so perhaps it was set up for the Ministry, but either way, he started to see where he'd been misled and how much of it had come from Kirley Duke. Maybe they had started seeing each other, but Harry had put the kibosh on that. He could mostly believe it now. It didn't mean that Draco hadn't fallen back into his arms. There was a lot that it could've meant.

Though it took all of his restraint, Harry managed not to bang down the door and instead decided to figure out another plan. He thought he'd heard on the Wizarding Wireless Network that Kirley Duke was going to give a concert at the end of this week. It might be the only time he could see Draco before he quit being an Auror or put in for a partner transfer. Harry would go. The tickets were sold out, but Harry had loads of money to waste, and he had to make it up to Draco.

--

Harry played with the tickets he held. He'd tried to get someone else to go with him, but with Ron off looking for Hermione and Hermione... well, who knew and Ginny still not speaking to him over their crappy break up, he was left with Luna Lovegood.

"Area you sure you want to go in there, Harry? This was the sight of the Dead Blue Parrot rebellion of 1976. Right here... er..." she moved over a few feet, looked around again and pointed down. "Right here, a man tried to return a blue parrot to what used to be a pet store on this very place."

"I see." Not that Harry saw or wanted to see. He was toying with the little gold ferret on the front of the ticket. It would stop swirling long enough to bite the tip of Harry's finger, turn around and shake its tail at him and then return to what it was doing. The ferret was from the logo of the opening band 24 Karat Ferret. Harry smirked at how much that name had to irk Draco.

"I really love Kirley Duke, though. And the opening band sounds good too. New band that I've never even heard of," she said dreamily. She wore a long, flowing robe that seemed to be made of patchwork, but each had their own special layers. Luna matched prints in a way that no one else seemed to and her fashionable creations were causing quite a stir amongst what Draco called, "quilt dressers." He'd also called it "Weasley Fashion" which had ticked off Ron. Memories.

Speaking of, Harry looked up and around for a white blond head amongst the crowd. He'd conned Luna into looking as well, but instead she kept calling out, "Moonfrog! Oh no wait, it's a piece of paper."

By the time the lights were lowering, Harry figured he was just going to have to deal with the opening act. Draco was probably sulking backstage and wouldn't come out until he was needed.

The stage erupted into lights and the crunching sound of Magitars, but the song sounded familiar. Like a cover of a Muggle song that Harry had heard a few years before. Seemed like 24 Karat Ferret was a cover band?

And it all breaks down at the role reversal
got the muse in my head she's universal
spinning me 'round just coming over me
And it all breaks down at the role reversal
got the muse in my head she's universal
spinning me 'round just coming over me

The man stalking the stage was head-to-toe in gold lamé, looking like a glam rocker. Or at least what Sirius had lovingly referred to as a glam rocker when he showed Harry his secret stash of Muggle record albums. Harry was vaguely familiar with David Bowie on his own, though, and that was very much who he thought of as the lithe blond man sang about 'eyeholes in a paper bag' being the greatest lay he'd ever had.

The man, wearing exorbitant amounts of glittery eye make-up in jewel tones with pale white face, turned and locked eyes with Harry. It took a moment for Harry to resolve the flinty grey and put together the smooth line of the body and then the voice.

The secret life of Draco Malfoy was evidently him as a rock star. A glam rock star. A glam rock star in gold shiny latex that showed everything. Everything, every crease, every wrinkle, Harry imagined he could see every vein and the outline of his sack. Harry wanted to fling himself on stage to stop the display, but that was exactly the sort of crap that had gotten him into this mess to begin with.

No, this time he was going to trust Draco and believe that he wasn't just going to let some half-wit musician steal him away and turn him into a rock star. If he did though, Draco was an extraordinary performer. Harry had never seen Bowie perform live, but he'd seen a video once late at night when the cupboard wasn't quite closed and he could watch late night reruns. The next day he'd gotten in trouble from mucking about in Petunia's make-up box and pummeled for being a "girl" by Dudley's friends. He'd never tried it again at the time, but watching Draco strut and prance... he was born to it.

Harry slunk to the back to the bar to get a drink. He would need a few to keep watching this. He was hard just thinking about the way that Draco had once moved against him. So many of those shimmies and shakes were now taking place against the pole of the microphone or simulated against the Omniano player.

God, he was beautiful. Draco Malfoy was a beautiful man and up until he'd bollixed it up with a moment of insecurity and need to comfort his friend, he'd had him all to himself. Harry wanted to cry. He wanted to grab Draco off the stage and make him understand.

Failing that, he wanted to go home.

Luna stood towards the back of the crowd, spinning around so that her patchwork robe splayed and twirled around her. Her hands were up and waved in crazy patterns like she was summoning some bird-like creature only she knew about. She banged people in the heads with her flailing fists, but no one seemed to mind. It was just Luna, and everyone seemed to expect that from her. Harry was relieved that things had gotten so much better for her.

The music weaved over him in nonsensical words, grunts and the sway of Draco's hips. Harry was captivated by Draco, even if he had no clear idea what he was on about. All he could do was drink and stare, brooding over what he'd had; what he'd let slip through his fingers. Any moment now, Kirley Duke was going to come out. They'd kiss. Not just kiss for the press, but full body kissing. The sort of kiss that he used to give Harry with his hand on the back of his head and their bodies pressed together. He'd draw Kirley in and Kirley would be left completely at Draco's whim with the only word that he could possibly say being "Yes," agreeing to anything Draco asked of him.

Or at least, that's how kissing Draco felt to Harry.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man who looked as lovesick and maudlin as he felt, sipping a pint. The stranger didn't remove his gaze from Draco until Harry sidled up next to him. Briefly, Harry wondered how many people Draco had really had sex with and told he was a virgin, because this man appeared to want him as badly as Harry did. It was probably the ale talking, but at the moment he felt exceptionally bitter.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" asked Harry, testing the waters, wondering just how masochistic he could be.

"Maybe. I guess. Sort of. A pretty victim." The other man was taller than Harry and had dark brown hair. He had a wild-eyed air of danger about him, especially when he pulled his hat off, revealing more of his face. Harry looked at the man and then turned to glance at Draco flouncing about on stage, simulating fucking the air.

"Yeah. He's a bit of a tart, isn't he?" said Harry, keeping a beady eye on the other man. Could this be who Draco was watching out for?

"Probably. He's not the problem. It's Kirley. Kirley just wants what he wants and when he has it, he doesn't want it anymore. Heard his new boy-toy is a virgin. I had a family once. Kids. He had me..." said the man.

Harry assumed that he meant Kirley had the man. He was relieved that he didn't seem to mean any harm to Draco, as he certainly could've had it by now. "Yeah. Musicians are jerks. That boy-toy is my partner."

"Life partner?" growled the man. "That bastard! He has no respect for any sanctity of relationships! He just gets off what he wants when he wants it! He doesn't care who it hurts!"

"No, he's my..." but Harry's voice was cut off from a huge cheer in the crowd and he turned to see Kirley walk out onto the stage. He held his breath, waiting for the deep, loving kiss that he just knew that the two would share.

It never happened. Kirley went in for the kiss but Draco turned his face, giving him a cheek and looked over his shoulder. It would be impossible for Draco to see Harry way in the back like this, but Harry felt it. He was just about to flee up to the stage to Draco, taking it as an invitation, when out of the corner of his eye he saw the man next to him flourish his wand.

Harry had no idea how he'd gotten it in past security. Harry had his because he was an Auror, but this man... he had no idea who he was or what he was capable of.

"DRACO!" Harry shouted in warning as if Draco would hear it. He tried to grab the wand from the man's hand as he fished out his own wand to create a shield, but it was too late.

Before tackling the man down to the floor, it looked as if the hex was headed towards Kirley. So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodnight! Guiltily, Harry felt happy with the notion that Kirley would at least suffer, if not die. As far as Harry was concerned, it was justice. But once he had the man pinned down, he turned his head to see Draco's golden body prone on the stage with witches and wizards trying to resuscitate him.

"HAHAHAHA!" cackled the man as if he'd heard the funniest joke. "He'll have to find his true love now! Someone will have to be truly in love with the git for him to survive! Sleeping Beauty Hex! HAHAHA! He has three days for someone in love with him to shag him or else he's asleep for 100 years!"

"You hit someone else," Harry snarled, glaring down at him.

The man's glee faded instantly. "Give me my wand! Kirley Duke must be hexed!"

"YOU HIT MY PARTNER!" Harry roared.

"Sorry..." the man said, looking sheepish under the intensely riled glare of Harry Potter's full fury.

This time, Harry wasn't going to need magic. He railed back and punched the man so hard that his head bounced on the pavement. After a hard nudge to the man's ribs, Harry determined he was out cold.

Harry stood and bound him magically and looked over at Draco, who was being packaged up to go to St. Mungo's. He loved Draco. Was he in love with him? What did that even mean? He kicked the defenseless bound man in the shins and looked back at the stage. Draco was being carted out and Kirley Duke was on the other stage reenacting the scene to impress chavs who had leapt up onto stage as if they might help.

Maybe it was juvenile, but he'd wanted to do this since he'd met Kirley. Now that he saw how little he truly cared about Draco or anyone by himself, Harry flourished his wand and hexed Kirley flaccid for as long as it took for Harry's anger to abate. And Harry Potter could hold grudges.

--

After spending the day glaring at Kirley Duke, who was sitting on the other side of Draco's bed at St. Mungo's, Harry was rather relieved to see Tonks arrive. Her hair was a muddy, dark shade, not a cheery portent of her feelings or her news. He eyed her belly, but it was flat as it ever had been.

She told him that Ron was back at the Burrow and wanted to talk to him. Harry wasn't sure if he should leave Kirley alone with Draco. Kirley had been speaking to a reporter from the Daily Prophet earlier that day expressing concern that Draco would be left to slumber for 100 years because they wouldn't let him get on with it. Not that he could, thanks to his flaccid hex, but no one knew that, exactly. Besides, with as lascivious as Kirley seemed to be acting, Harry wondered if he hadn't sussed out a way to remove it. Chances were Harry wasn't the first to curse Kirley in such a way.

The notion of allowing Kirley to paw at Draco in his sleep turned Harry's stomach. Aside from his own petty jealousies, Kirley had pretty obviously had it off with one of his groupies and clearly wasn't in love with Draco. It made Harry wonder why Kirley had put so much effort into trying to be with Draco, but that wasn't a question he wanted to ask. Maybe in his own way he did think he was in love with him, but Harry didn't like the way that Kirley looked at Draco. He didn't look at him as if he treasured him; he looked at him like he wanted to devour him. Maybe it was idealistic projection or just what Harry wanted to see, but Harry couldn't bear to leave Draco alone with the depraved musician.

Finally, Tonks agreed to sit with Draco to keep him safe. She remarked that Harry was a bit over involved for a mere partner, but let the matter drop at that pontificating that he was, after all, her family, and she probably had special dispensation to stay by his side that others wouldn't anyway.

Without an excuse to stay in the peach, antiseptic-smelling room any longer, Harry left for the Burrow to talk to Ron. He hadn't been gone long, but Harry thought perhaps he'd come to his senses about house-elf colonies and abandoned his search.

When he arrived at the Burrow, Molly let him in, looking very somber, and Harry's heart sank. Suddenly, he felt horrid for the time he'd spent guarding Draco when he probably should've gone with Ron. He was starting to feel stretched too thin with his responsibilities and accountability to his friend versus his own personal wants and needs, and yet, he couldn’t push away those feelings of regret for what Ron might've seen and that he'd seen it alone.

Harry sat at the table next to Ron who was slumped over a cup of tea. He was pleased that at the very least, Ron didn't appear to be drinking, until he got a whiff of the toddy. Well, he would be warm, anyway. He rested his hand on Ron's back and moved it in slow circles and Ron leaned in against him to press his head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Ron," said Harry, at a loss for anything else to say. He wanted to break the silence, to find out what happened, but he didn't want to press.

"She's alive, Harry."

His hand stilled on Ron's back and his mind reeled at the notion. His voice sounded strange, slurred to the point of being lispy. Perhaps it was the drink.

But Harry had to wonder, if Hermione was alive then why was he so upset? Harry wondered if perhaps Ron didn't want to be married to her anymore. But then, he'd stayed married to that awful self-inserted hag Lavender for so long, how horrid could the real Hermione be by now? "Isn't that a good thing?"

Ron sighed and pulled away. He took another slow sip of his toddy and dropped the cup onto the saucer with a loud clang. "Yes. It's good. I mean, it's good, right? It is good. Yes. Good."

There was so much pain etched over Ron's visage that Harry felt panic rising yet again, choking his throat as he imagined all of the horrible possibilities of being alive might mean if Ron was so upset by it. "Was she... is she hexed?"

"Yes. Well. Sort of." Ron turned to Harry, his blue eyes dulled with too much grief and drink. "She was Obliviated. She knows nothing of the Wizarding world. Or of you. Or of... me."

Harry stared at Ron for a moment, his eyes wide in shock and then he grabbed Ron to hug him tightly, as much to keep Ron from breaking down as for his own solace. The horror of it washed over him slowly as memories of what they'd all been together and the adventures they'd had bubbled to the surface, making him blink back the rising tide of emotions. "Oh Ron."

"She's married now," he went on, stiff and still numb, his voice flat from the retelling of it. "Met someone. She's happy like that, as a Muggle. I couldn't... I can't... she has a baby. I couldn't... tell her about... any of it."

Nodding, Harry squeezed Ron's back as he envisioned what that must have been like for him to watch. Hermione would be happy with a child, a husband, a domestic and easy life as compared to the complexities of magic.

"She's a dentist. Isn't that funny? She doesn't even remember her parents, really, and she ended up taking up their profession."

Ron's laugh lacked mirth and came out like a hollow, racked sob. Harry clutched him tighter and smoothed his fingers through his hair, wishing that he could make it better somehow. But there really weren't any magic words for this. Nothing would simply take that pain away, no matter how much Harry wished he could take it for him.

"She's the brightest... woman... it's not surprising she'd end up a doctor, is it?" asked Harry.

"No. No. I don't even... Tonks found her. She... I guess Lavender confronted her about our 'affair' and she... got the notion-- like Malfoy-- that she wasn't really Hermione and Tonks... Tonks went the other way about it, I guess. Prying around until she found Hermione. Then she said... she wasn't sure how to break it to me and then... everything happened and she had to come after me to find me and bring me back. I asked her to show me and... " Ron sat back and pulled back his lips to show off the metal wires of braces on his teeth.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed, feeling the tears overwhelm his restraint. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry that Ron had undergone such extremes to spend time with Hermione. He wiped the tears on his sleeve and shook his head. It was like Hermione had died, and yet she hadn't. She was alive and she was happy. There was something to be said for that.

Ron ran his index finger over his teeth and then shrugged. "I look ridiculous, I know. But now I've regularly scheduled visits to see her, at least? I know she's not... her. And I know that I accepted a substitute for her and maybe I've cocked it up so much I should just let it go. I know that I'm not in love with her. Maybe I never really was if I didn't know her from someone else. Or maybe we just started too early to even know what love was. But I can't just let her go completely."

"You love her," Harry assured him, grabbing Ron's shoulder to give it a squeeze. "No man endures all of that," he said, gesturing to Ron's teeth, "for anything other than love."

"Yeah. Maybe." Ron rolled his eyes and smiled, exposing his bracketed teeth. That was going to take some getting used to, but Harry was glad he'd get to visit her, anyway. As for him, Harry decided that he wanted to remember Hermione as she was and who she was to him.

"I’m glad she's alive," said Harry. Molly brought Harry out a cup of tea, real tea, and he gratefully accepted it, finding tea the very English way of dealing with adversity and complex emotions. Toddys were well and good, but there was nothing like a strong Earl Grey and a stiff upper lip to see you through.

After a long silence in which much tea and toddy drinking was accomplished, Ron broke it with, "So what's going on with Malfoy?"

Harry cleared his throat, well aware of the last time Ron had seen he and Draco. They hadn't spoken of it, really, for which Harry had been grateful, but he supposed it was going to come up eventually. "I've not really spoken to him since..."

"I meant with the curse," said Ron hurriedly.

"Right." Harry frowned down at his tea. Not that he'd really expected Ron to accept his being gay all at once, but time had passed. "Well, it's a so-called 'Sleeping Beauty' hex. Basically someone in love with him has to shag him. Or so that's what the maniac who hexed him says. The Healers at St. Mungo's are trying to verify the hex and see if there's a way around it."

"I thought that in the story she just needed to be kissed?" Ron finished his toddy and pushed it aside. When Molly walked over to him with the whiskey, he asked for tea. She smiled warmly and patted his head and poured him a cup.

"Hence the doubt that this is exactly what the hex requires. The man refuses to give the incantation but insists that if Malfoy isn't shagged in three days by someone in love with him, he'll be asleep for a hundred years." Harry turned down another cup of tea and instead just stared down at the empty cup. Wizards easily lived over 100 years, but so much of his life would've passed him by.

"You're not in love with him?" asked Ron. When Harry looked at him, Ron's eyes were averted as he seemed to find something on the wall opposite Harry intensely interesting. "I mean, I know you told me it was just a shag to get out of the closet but..."

"But what?"

Ron turned to look at Harry, this time very seriously. "In all the time I've known you, you've never been one to have it off for no reason. There were other ways out of that closet and you definitely weren't in such dire straits to be that desperate yet. I thought about it when I was in the Scottish Highlands. Though a lot about it. Malfoy didn't use some dark magic trick to get you out of that kitten-in-a-tree-cave. You two shagged to get out, didn't you?"

Harry's blush seemed to serve as an answer.

"So you were both virgins, so I'm guessing he doesn't take it lightly, either. I think... you might both be bumbling idiots, but I think you're also in love with him. I didn't... I didn't even get it when he was my partner. He talked about you incessantly, comparing what I did with you, complaining about all of your little habits that he said irritated him--"

"What? What habits? I'm not irritating! That prat thinks he knows everything and lectures as if anyone cares to listen to him and he--"

Ron chuckled and shook his head. "You two are silly for each other."

Harry flailed and then dropped his hands on the table. What could he say to that? He liked the idea that Draco might want him, that he might think about him as much as Harry did. He closed his eyes and felt his cheeks burn with the pleasure of the notion of Draco talking about him. Then they brightened further as he remembered shagging Draco on top of Ron. Right. Well. He didn't need to know about that. "Be that as it may, I must admit to being tweaked by the idea of shagging him while he's asleep-- especially since we've not been speaking."

"Well, maybe Duke will do it, then." Ron finished his tea and set it down. If Harry didn't know Ron better, he might've thought that he was trying to goad him with that remark.

"Duke doesn’t love him. It wouldn't work even if he tried it, which he won't get the chance to. They've never shagged. Ever. Malfoy said so. And he was already moving in on some groupies when Malfoy was being sent to St. Mungo's! He didn't even care!" Harry exclaimed.

"Saw his remarks in the Prophet, though. Bet by day three when the Healers are getting desperate, they might look the other way to let him have a go."

"What? They can't do that!" But Harry figured they really might. They were already eyeing both of the men up, although due to Kirley being out about being with Draco, they were mostly giving Harry the stink eye over his not leaving. "They wouldn't leave me alone with him, anyway. They think Duke is who he's with."

Ron tapped his fingers on the table. "Sounds like you could use a lookout."

"Yeah, if I were going to..." said Harry, eyeing Ron curiously.

"No reason both of us need to be heartbroken, yeah? Malfoy's a bit of a prat, but he's an all right sort. If you love him then that's good enough for me. Bloke, bird, so long as you're not trying to stuff my bum it's not really my business anyway."

Harry thought back on what all Ron had said before about it and wondered if he was really as unbothered as he seemed. But as he was blinded by the braces-smile, he decided to let it go for now. Ron was willing to help and he definitely needed it. "All right, but we need a plan."

--

Getting in after dark was easy enough. Tonks was considered family and she managed to authorize Harry to get in after Ron did some fast talking. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted that or not. After all, it still felt a little... snakey to slip in under the cover of darkness to shag Draco while he slept. Sure, it was for his own good, and even Tonks noticed that the Healers seemed to be urging Kirley to stick around. That is, until Kirley picked up on a medi-witch to take home as a consolation prize.

Even though the conversation had Harry on pins and needles, he couldn't help but notice the way that Tonks and Ron looked at one another. There was a fond familiarity there, which could've been borne of the fact that they'd shagged and had been partners, but Harry fancied that he saw some sparks. Maybe it was wishful thinking, though. Surely Ron would need time to get over things and move on. He was heartened when she complimented Ron's braces.

But now he was in Draco's room, the shades pulled against a magic window that simulated a starry night. It left slats of light across Draco's pointed face and lit his hair in that eerie blue way that reminded Harry of being outside, and how beautiful Draco was restrained as a Veela. But then, he found Draco beautiful all of the time now. Had he always been? Harry remembered thinking of him as being ferret-like and certain the blunt slope of his nose hadn't changed. His cheeks had hollowed some, but that just made him look pointier.

There were dark circles under his eyes that showed off his pale lashes. They'd been there since at least sixth year, hadn't they? Yet somehow, even though Draco was nowhere near perfect, even though his hair and skin were too pale, making him appear surreal and odd, Harry couldn't help looking at him without thinking about what a stunning man he was.

Harry rolled the soft, white blanket down from Draco's chest, revealing the cotton gown beneath that had ridden up to the top of his thighs. Harry could barely make out the tenting of his cock through the gown. It was almost as if Draco was quietly agreeing to this violation. Or maybe Harry was just hoping.

Pinching the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, he pulled the gown up, crunching it up over his abdomen to see the dark outline of Draco's hard cock leaning against his skin. He slid his hand over it, slowly teasing him as he watched Draco's face flinch and contort.

"Am I affecting your dreams, Draco?" he asked softly, as if he could answer.

With Draco's cock firmly in his hand, Harry leaned in to kiss the side of his face, nuzzling the soft white hair. He even enjoyed the light scrape of stubble from Draco's cheek as he kissed down to his lips. Right. Kissing. He was supposed to try kissing first and yet he'd already grabbed Draco's cock. It had only been a few days, but he'd already missed touching him. Missed just the sound of his voice and the expressions on his face when he thought Harry was saying something particularly objectionable.

He thought about how much he missed him, how much he wanted him back, if even to snap at him as he delved his tongue into Draco's warm but lifeless mouth. He stroked the familiar places, the roof of his mouth, the sharp of his teeth, the softness of his tongue, trying to coax it back to life. But all he received in return was the strange taste of potions.

Harry tried to breathe life into him as he continued the kiss as he crawled into the bed with him, straddling Draco as he pulled his robe up. He hadn't worn anything under it, not sure of how much time he'd have. It made him feel satisfyingly naughty to be walking about with his prick half hard under a single layer of material.

Spread out over Draco, his legs on either side of his hips, Harry thought about the curse flung at Draco. Obviously the kiss wasn't enough, so he broke it, pressing soft kisses over Draco's face, the moisture glittering when highlighted by the limited light in the room. No one really knew about the curse, only really knew what the perpetrator said, which was that a "shag" had to occur. But he never said who needed to be the receptive partner.

Maybe it was warped logic, but as far in the dark as he was about the dubiousness of this consent, Harry thought perhaps it would be less invasive if he let Draco inside of him. His hand started to shake at just the notion of it. It had never really occurred to him until now to do this. Circumstances seemed to keep leading Draco to bottoming, and he still could now. His legs would be easy enough to move. Dead weight, but not stiff. He could fuck Draco like this, turn him over and take him, or just push his legs up and slide in. It would be so easy to do. Too easy, maybe.

But would that show Draco, or show the curse that he loved him? Pulling the lubricant from his robe pocket, he spread it out over Draco's cock and continued to stroke him, keeping him hard and spreading the fluid around on him. He reached back with his other hand, sliding his fingers between his cheeks and fingered himself.

Harry still wasn't entirely convinced that this was what he wanted to do, but he wanted to know how it would feel. Would it hurt? Pushing his finger inside of himself, it didn't exactly hurt, but it didn't feel brilliant, either. Uncomfortable, a little. He moved a second finger into himself and it pinched a bit as the skin stretched out to accommodate him. Already he was breaking out in a sweat.

He jumped when he heard a bump at the door and stared down at the shadows in front of it. They weren't moving. But no one was making any noise of warning, either. Still, it was a reminder that he needed to get on with it before someone came in and he was arrested.

Standing up on his knees, he crawled forward and grabbed Draco's cock again to line him up against his opening. Harry took a long, deep and shaky breath, preparing himself for the widening invasion and then pushed back, grunting at the hard stretch he was being forced to endure. He fought his body's natural urge to force him back out, trying to relax the clenching so that he could fit more of Draco inside of him.

He almost thought he couldn't do it, but then he gazed at Draco's face. It was pinched up in bliss, his face contorted and blushing. Harry inhaled deeply again and then exhaled slowly, sitting down onto him. "Draco," he whispered as he spread out over him. He wrapped his arms tightly around his limp torso, trying not to cry that though Draco seemed conscious enough to register it, he wasn't awakening. "I think... I really do... love you. I know I bollixed it up. I'm sorry. I've never done this before and I don't know what I'm doing." He nudged his face against Draco's neck and moved against him.

"Harry?"

Harry hadn't thought so far as to sort out what to say when Draco awoke. He burned with humiliation over what he'd just said. Not to mention that he had Draco lodged inside of him. But the simple answer seemed the best. "Yes?"

Draco was gasping for breath and blinking as he looked around wildly for a moment and then shifted his hips and groaned. "Oooh, God... "

Hissing at Draco's movements, Harry watched Draco come to his senses and then eyed Harry in alarm. "Where are we?"

"St. Mungo's."

"Why am I fucking you at St. Mungo's?" asked Draco as he brought his arms around Harry. He slid his hands down his back and pushed Harry down harder on his cock as he started to move in a steady rhythm.

"You were hexed. I had to... you wouldn't wake unless you were shagged." He decided to leave out the part about his being in love with Draco. Even magic seemed to know it before he did and now that he knew, he wasn't sure if he was ready for Draco to know.

"I was having this dream that you were touching me... after staring Kirley down all day," Draco gasped, his body moving ever faster.

It was starting to hurt to withstand the force of Draco's crude thrusts, but that wasn't all that was bringing tears to his eyes. Suddenly, he seemed to understand the immenseness of this moment, of feeling completely open and vulnerable to someone else. He understood now why it was that Draco cried after they'd first fucked. "I was here all day," he whispered, just clinging to Draco, trying to relax, wanting to feel Draco get off inside of him, to know that he could do this for him, so he could be this for him. "He wanted to be the one to shag you."

Just when Harry thought he might go mad from how hard that Draco was pushing into him, Draco froze and shuddered, back arched and cheek pressed against the pillow as he cried out. He pushed into him a few more times after that, dragging out his orgasm until he flopped against the mattress, panting for breath.

Harry just watched him in his release for a moment, amazed with what he'd done to him, that he was responsible for that and that now he was slick inside with Draco's come. Reflexively, he squeezed around Draco's prick; his body trying to expel him again and Draco whimpered and twitched till he dragged out of Harry. After a beat, Harry felt the slow dribble of Draco's release oozing down out of him. He felt empty now, stretched out and clenched his arse as if it were a muscle spasm that could be stretched out past the soreness.

He was about to explain more to Draco when he felt a cool, soft hand reach under his robe and wrap around his waning length. He'd been excited enough about Draco being inside of him, but the pain from his roughness had wilted him some. Now that Draco had a hard hold of his cock, he was left speechlessly rutting into it.

With force that Harry didn't expect from someone so recently unconscious, he was pushed down against the bed with Draco's face hovering over his cock. In a blink, Harry felt first the balmy breath of Draco's mouth and then the blessed, exquisite warmth of his mouth wrapped around his cock. He only managed to get half of him into his mouth, but it felt more than brilliant, even with the warm dribble of come slipping between his cheeks and oozing onto the bed. This time, he was going to block out any other thoughts than just how good this felt, because nothing but this really mattered.

He wanted to fuck Draco's mouth deeply, to get himself into him all the way to the base, but it was all Draco could manage and Harry realized he was lucky to be getting anything from him. He slid his fingers through Draco's silky hair, trying his best not to force his head further down onto him. Harry groaned, twisting against the bed, arousal and surprise keeping him from holding out for as long as he wanted. He wanted to keep sliding in and out of Draco's mouth all night, but there were time constraints and he could feel Draco getting sloppy and his head bobbing was erratic as he got tired.

"Close," Harry warned, but Draco didn't let up and Harry shivered that Draco wanted to swallow his come. Grabbing the sheets tight, he pulsed his release into Draco's mouth, listening to the quiet slurping and sucking as he drank him down and then lapped at the tip of his cock, cleaning him up, leaving Harry twitching an exhausted as he gazed down at the lump of Draco's head over his groin.

"Draco," he breathed, caressing the side of his face, trying to coax him up to kiss him.

Draco gazed up at him and crawled up his body to share a languorous kiss. Harry tasted himself on Draco's tongue and mouthed I love you into the kiss as if Draco might understand it by sheer will and would return it. He tried to will him to say it back, concentrating hard as if that would work.

The kiss ended and Draco just gazed down at him and said nothing. In fact, he looked almost scared. It took Harry a moment to figure out why that was and he shook his head and whispered, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... it was stupid."

"Yeah, it was." Draco kissed Harry's forehead, brushing his lips over his scar, and then pushed back to lie down on the bed.

Right, the sex was over. Time to face the music. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to think of me with..."

"Chang? The Weaslette? Potter, your sexual history is public record and while I realize you didn't have sex with them, I can't eliminate the possibility that you've done loads of things with them that I wouldn't wish to witness or think about. This is why I don't think about those things. It's called being a grown-up."

Awake for all of twenty minutes from a serious curse and already giving lectures. Harry couldn't help but smirk a little, realizing this meant he felt better. "Right. I get it. I do. It was just a... stressful moment. My best mates and all..."

Draco's hardened expression softened as he seemed to realize what all else had been going on and that Harry did have reason to be a bit wiggy. He nodded. "Not our finest hour."

Tonks's voice sounded loudly from the other side of the door and Harry sprang from the bed, dropping his feet to the floor as Draco grabbed up his covers. Her voice grew in volume until the door was thrown open by a Healer who snapped the lights on with her fingers causing Harry and Draco to cover their faces at the sudden onslaught.

"What is going on in here? It smells like... Mr Malfoy! You're awake! Where's Mr Du--" her eyes widened as she looked at Harry Potter, her expression practically writing the headlines already. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Buggered. "Oh, my."

"Your discretion in this matter will be appreciated," said Draco sternly as he straightened out his bed linens.

"Oh, of course, sir!" she said, clearly thinking of what she could ask for compensation from the Prophet.

"I'm fairly certain that St. Mungo's doesn't want the reputation of being a facility where coma patients might be buggered in the night. Of course, to combat that they would likely blame the night Healer on duty. Seems like it would be a bad job for that night Healer, don't you think?" said Draco.

Harry was impressed with how well Draco could make blackmail sound perfectly reasonable, and even polite. But then, Slytherin. Although he really thought it would be cooler if Draco could just wave his hand like a Jedi and say, "This is not the monkey sex you are looking for." But then, what were the odds of Draco Malfoy saying "monkey sex" anyway? Or knowing what a Jedi was. Ah well. Harry was still impressed anyway.

She looked fussy as she left and prattled on about him needing rest and being released in the morning. Draco was chuffed and tilted his head up in victory.

"Wotcher, Harry! All made up, then?" Tonks grinned at Harry and even Draco.

Harry looked at Draco with his brows up. "Yes, yes, everyone's friends again. And I suppose this means my private assignment is over. Provided Kirley's stalker was apprehended?"

Nodding, Harry could only breathe a sigh of relief. It appeared that his whole attachment to Kirley really had been for protection. He wanted to ask more about it, but remembered his past reactions and decided to leave that to the past.

"Brilliant. Well. It is quite late and... as thrilling as company is, I'm quite spent." Draco leered at Harry, who blushed.

Ron made a face and headed out, followed by Tonks. Before Harry could go, Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him in, "We still need to have our meeting. There's a lot we need to talk about."

"Yes. Do you want to meet Monday?" asked Harry as he pressed his hand over Draco's.

Draco smiled and nodded. "Monday would be perfect."


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Song Lyrics to "Nancy Boy" by Placebo