A Lifetime of Looking

Title: A Lifetime of Looking
Author: Mania_regale
Archived: Also posted on my LJ; No archiving without prior permission of the author.
Summary: Draco\'s birthday ends in an encounter with aurors and an unexpected request for help.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: HP/DM
Disclaimer: Characters and canon are the exclusive property and J.K. Rowling and her assignees. No money is being made from this endeavor.

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A single man sat at the bar of London’s most upscale club. He and the barkeep were the sole occupants of the club, which was hardly surprising since it was only half past three on a Saturday afternoon. The club usually didn’t start hopping until at least ten o’clock, and the barkeep couldn’t help but wonder why he had a visitor so early in the day. Sneaking furtive glances at his lone patron, the barkeep set out to prepare the club for the large crowd that would be there later that night while still trying to appear attentive to his customer. The gentleman appeared to pay no mind to the barkeep, instead maintaining his gaze on the glass of dark liquid in his hands that seemed to constantly stay full, even though the barkeep had seen him drinking from it, and in spite of the fact that he had not refreshed the drink. The barkeep’s years of experience told him that this was not one of those patrons who would insist on divulging their life story to him, so with a backward glance at the man, the barkeep turned his attention away from the bar and continued with his preparation of the club, assuming that the gentleman would let him know if he needed anything.

On the other side of London, Blaney the house elf was struggling keep up with the mound of clothes that was being heaped upon her. As fast as Blaney could fold or hang clothes and vanish them into the other end of the walk-in closet, a new set was unceremoniously dumped on top of her as her Master scoured the closet for the perfect outfit for the evening. From time to time a string of foul language accompanied the throwing of the clothes, and it appeared that at this rate, her Master was going to clean out the entire closet before he found what he was looking for. While that was no small feat, Blaney had witnessed it before, and like a good and obedient house elf, she swallowed her thoughts on the matter and refrained from shaking her head at the sight before her.

“Bloody hell! Why don’t I have any clothes?” was exclaimed as another few shirts were tossed over her Master’s head, his platinum blonde hair shimmering under the special lighting that he had insisted on having in the closet to ensure that he could see all of his belongings under natural lighting conditions.

Blaney let slip a small sigh and continued to take care of the bottomless pile of clothes surrounding her.

“Now that’s more like it,” exclaimed her Master as he strode over to the mirrored alcove holding his current selection in front of his lithe form. Turning to survey himself from all angles, a smirk slowly spread across his face as he slowly nodded to himself. “Yes, this will do quite nicely.” Turning suddenly, he tossed the outfit to Blaney, “see to it that this is laid out for me when I return.”

Blaney quickly said “yes, Master Draco” as she slipped out of the closet. Draco had meanwhile turned back to the mirrors and was intently surveying his appearance. Starting at the bottom of the mirror, he let his gaze slowly travel up to his perfectly pedicured toes, the black pants that perfectly skimmed his tight leg muscles, his well-defined chest devoid of any hair to mar the view, and up to his finely chiseled features surrounded by the long locks of blond that was almost white. Although typically tied back into a ponytail which skimmed part way down his milky back, his hair flowed loose at the moment, have been released from its tie in anticipation of a shower. Looking pleased with himself, he stared his reflection in the eyes and whispered “Happy birthday, Draco,” before he turned and left the closest, flicking his wrist to turn off the light and close the door behind him.

Hours later, Draco was back in the mirrored alcove, surveying himself yet again. Pleased with his reflection, he glanced at his watch to see that it was now ten o’clock. With a grin that brought the palest of flushes to his high cheekbones, he hurried through the apartment to the entryway where he paused only to snatch his leather jacket and sunglasses from Blaney’s outstretched hand before swinging the jacket over his shoulder and apparating away.

Landing in a deserted alley, Draco took a moment to smooth his jacket, adjust his sunglasses and run a smooth hand over his ponytail, ensuring that it hung perfectly. Draco’s infamous smirk again crossed his lips before his visage was carefully wiped clean and he sauntered out of the alley. With his sunglasses on, the street lamps cast only a dim glow over the street, although to anyone watching him, which included everyone on the street, it appeared that the street lamps shone only to provide a spotlight for Draco as made his way down the street. Fully aware of the attention he was attracting, a smile played in Draco’s eyes, carefully shielded by the sunglasses. Draco swung into an open doorway and stopped, letting his lanky frame fill the entire opening. All eyes in the club immediately turned to him, and Draco dropped his chin slightly, peering into the darkened club over the top of the shades.

The patrons all gawked, drinking in the view in front of them, including the man who had barely moved from his barstool all day. His non-descript hazel eyes had turned towards the door seconds before Draco arrived in the doorway, as if he had known in advance to watch the scene unfold. When Draco stepped into the doorway, those hazel eyes had briefly flashed a brilliant emerald green hue before they returned just as swiftly to their previous hazel. Their owner had remained seated at the bar of the club, where he had been unusually isolated from the crowd all day with an empty seat on either side of him. Oddly, as soon as anyone approached either seat, they were inexplicably called away.

As the seconds dripped by, most patrons had started to avert their eyes, feeling that they should be embarrassed by their stares. The man at the bar did nothing of the sort, rather his gaze seemed to intensify as he took in the figure of Draco Malfoy framed in the entranceway. Those hazel eyes flicked to the bottom of the door frame and noticed the black dragonhide boots that laced up the front to just below his knees, where a pair of tight black leather pants continued up his legs. The hazel eyed man drew in a sharp breath as he followed the line of those pants up to the obvious bulge at the vee between Draco’s legs. He tore his eyes away, and continued upwards to the tight, black, silk shirt that was taut over Draco’s well-defined stomach muscles before traveling to the equally gorgeous pecs. Finally his gaze wandered up to Draco’s face, his porcelain skin harboring the trademark Malfoy smirk, those deep silver-grey eyes just barely visible over the edge of his sunglasses, and his platinum blonde hair, longer than it had ever been before, pulled back behind his head. He hadn’t thought it possible, but Draco seemed to look more beautiful every time he saw him.

Draco had kept up his survey of the club, and only now pulled off his sunglasses as he sauntered over to the best booth in the club, joining a large number of well-dressed men who were apparently waiting for him.

The man at the bar couldn’t hear what was being said, but he had turned on his barstool to give himself a better view of the booth. The men milling about clasped Draco’s hand as joined them, and quite a few had pulled out small packages or envelopes that they handed to him, which Draco was placing into a bag on one end of the table. The other was covered in any number of various delicacies surrounded by bottles of the finest champagne.

The man at the bar reached into his pocket and pulled out a small package of his own, wrapped in shiny silver paper tied with green ribbon. Steeling himself by downing the rest of his drink in a single swallow, he slowly got to his feet and took a tentative step towards the blonde, his eyes sharply focused on his intended destination. Before he had gotten more than a handful of steps away from the bar, he observed another man walk over towards Draco. This one, however, did not stop with clasping Draco’s hand. Rather, he used the grip to pull Draco into a hug before turning his face towards Draco and letting his lips flutter against Draco’s. The sight stopped the man in his tracks, and he quickly whipped back around towards the bar, missing the light punch that Draco had given to the arm of his apparent paramour, and the laughter that followed.

Instead, the man leaned over the bar and drew the attention of the barkeep who had been observing him since he arrived at the club early that afternoon. He whispered into the barkeep’s ear before slipping him the silver package and a wad of notes. The barkeep nodded and reached below the bar to store the package. By the time he looked up, the man was already gone.

Draco had enjoyed the attention he received as he entered the club, as he always did when chose to indulge his admiring fans. Now, with his friends, the mask of arrogance was allowed to slip slightly. Since it was his birthday after all, Draco had decided that he was entitled for a little fun tonight. And the fun he had in mind involved finding what was rightfully his and claiming it. So it was only natural that Draco was carefully searching through the club, looking for the man who would catch his fancy tonight and have the good fortune to go home with him.

After an hour or so, Draco had found a few prospects, but wasn’t quite taken with any of them. As he continued to survey the wares in the club, he noticed a large group of men, sixteen to be exact, enter the club at the same time, from various directions. Dressed all in black, the group started to fan out, blocking all of the exits and dispersing through the crowd.

Draco knew instantly that these were aurors, and not just any aurors, but the elite squad. What they were doing in a muggle establishment was beyond him, but he had a feeling that it couldn’t be good. As soon as they had entered, he had grasped the end of his wand, although for now he kept it sheathed. He watched intently as one of the men stalked towards his booth as the others spread out.

It was all Draco could do not to snicker. The black knit cap the auror was wearing was a valiant but wholly unsuccessful attempt to hid his shockingly red hair. Draco thought to himself that this had to be a Weasley. Seeing that the auror was still heading towards him, Draco looked away, not wanting it known that he had spotted the man.

In another moment, the auror was now right next to Draco, and he quickly looked from side to side before ducking down and hissing “Say nothing.”

Draco looked up quickly and caught a glimpse of Ronald Weasley starting to move towards the center of the club. Ron looked back towards Draco, and when he saw Draco staring at him, he gave a short, terse nod. Draco slid down a bit in his seat deciding that this was going to be a long night, and not in the way he had intended.

Draco watched as a number of the aurors gathered in the center of the club, surrounding the man who had led the group into the club. Watching them, Draco recognized the leader as none other than Mad Eye Mooney, resulting in a groan escaping from Malfoy’s lips.

“What’s wrong, Drake?” asked one of his friends, oblivious to the fact that the club had been surrounded.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Draco answered, his gaze never waivering from the group of aurors.

“Somnius muggles” was shouted by Mad Eye, and almost instantly the majority of the people in the club had slumped or fallen over, and were lightly snoring. “Lumos!” In a moment the club was filled with light, and Draco, as one of the few who were not asleep, shielded his eyes from the brightness having grown accustomed to the dark shadows of the club.

The aurors quickly surveyed the club, looking for those who were not fast asleep. Draco, the only one at his table, was quickly rounded up with the other wizards and witches, and was seated around a table at one end of the club, surrounded by aurors.

“This will take only a minute of your time,” Mad Eye growled, and all of the seated wizards grimaced slightly at the forced intrusion into their minds. Draco’s eyes blazed with indignation, but he kept his mouth shut, as instructed. He did, however, throw a glare in Ron’s direction, letting him know that he fully expected an explanation for all of this.

“This can’t be,” Moody uttered as he violently shook his head and peered around the club at all of the sleeping figures.

“What is it?” asked one of the other aurors.

“They don’t know anything. There had to be a reason he was here. He wouldn’t have come out of hiding for just anything.”

“Maybe one of the muggles knows something?”

“Doubtful. But someone get those muggle watching thingys and take them back to the Ministry. Maybe there will be something there.”

One of the aurors quickly walked through the club to the office at the back, apparently to comply with Moody’s request for what Draco surmised was the surveillance tapes.

“What a waste,” one of the younger-looking aurors muttered.

“Shut up! We will find him,” Moody snapped before turning to the rest of the aurors. “Weasley, you stay here and keep an eye out. Everyone else, back to the Ministry.”

Ron nodded his head, and the remaining aurors moved over to the exit.

Moody uttered a “Finite incantium” and suddenly the Muggles were awake again, not realizing they had been asleep in the first place.

Draco stood up and walked over to Weasley, crooking his finger at him to follow as Draco headed back to his table. Ron looked around and sighed before following Draco and sliding into the booth next to him.

“What the fuck was that about?!”

“Malfoy, it’s classified,” replied Ron knowing that Malfoy would never let him get away with that answer.

“Nice try weasel. And what was that ‘say nothing’ about?” spat Draco.

Ron sighed before replying “fine, just not here.”

Draco nodded his agreement, and he quickly leaned over to his friends and let them know he was leaving. They all turned and looked at Ron, appraising the red-head and wondering if he knew just how lucky he was to have snagged Draco for the night. Draco knew that his friends would automatically assume that the weasel was his birthday conquest, but he did nothing to dissuade them, figuring it would make his escape that much easier.

Draco and Ron started moving towards the door when the barkeep looked up and noticed their movement. He hurriedly ducked his head under the bar and rushed out to them, a silver package in his hands.

Thrusting the package at the blonde he said “this was left for you,” before starting to turn back towards the bar.

Ron took in the silver package and the green ribbon tied in a simple bow, and quickly grabbed the barkeep’s arm, whirling him around. Draco stared at Ron with a questioning look on his face.

“Who gave you this? What were you told?” Ron quickly inquired. The barkeep looked taken aback by the intensity of the questioning, but he pulled his arm loose from Ron’s grasp and looked lost in thought.

“Some guy,” he answered. “Left it at the bar and asked that I give it to the blonde.”

“What did he look like?” A glimmer of hope had started to appear in Ron’s eyes, although Draco was only becoming more confused.

“Average height and build, brown hair, hazel eyes. Nothing remarkable.”

“If he wasn’t anything remarkable, how do you remember his eye color?” Draco thought that was a good question, and he silently had to admit that the weasel was doing a decent job with his questions.

“I should remember, he was there most of the day. Came in about 3:30, just when my shift started. Sat at the bar all day, left about half an hour ago.”

“Damnit! Do you remember anything else?”

“Don’t think so. Can I get back to work now?”

“Sure” replied Ron. “Just one minute.” Before Draco realized what was going on, Ron had put his hand on the bit of wand that stuck out of his pocket and had mouthed “obliviate.” The barkeep’s eyes glazed slightly, and he shook his head before heading back to the bar.

Ron grabbed Draco’s arm and roughly dragged him out of the club and into the alleyway that Draco had initially apparated into. Draco assumed they were going to be traveling and although he didn’t like being dragged around and kept in the dark, he was curious enough to endure it a bit longer.

But instead of Ron apparating them anywhere, he pulled a strange device out of his pocket and hit a few buttons. Moments later the device started making noise, and Ron spoke into it, “’Mione?”

Draco couldn’t hear the reply, but he guessed it was affirmative.

“Mad Eye should be there by now. Get the tapes from him and tell him they are blank. Bring them with you and I’ll meet you there in a few. Sounds like he was here.” Ron stopped speaking briefly and listened before he said “By the way, I’m bringing company.” Draco cocked his head at Ron, as he assumed that the “company” he was speaking of was himself.

Ron placed the device back in his pocket and turned back to Draco.

“Ready?” he inquired.

“I suppose. But first I want to know who you were talking about and why are you taking me with you? Who was it that was at the club tonight?”

Ron’s eyes grew dark and a shadow seemed to envelope his face before he answered Draco.

“Harry. Harry Potter.”

Draco looked at Ron, the shock evident on his face. He looked down at the silver package he was still holding as Ron grabbed his arm again and the two of them apparated out of the alleyway.