Archive of Our Own ^beta

Title: Lucky Threats
Author: alisanne
Characters/Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Word Count: 2060
Rating: R
Warnings: AW, EWE.
Summary: Star Quidditch player, Draco Malfoy, is receiving death threats. Interestingly, the only man he trusts to find the culprit is Auror Harry Potter.
Notes: Written for sassy_cissa as part of 3fan_holidays 2009 fest. Nothing recognizable belongs to me. Thank you to sevfan and eeyore9990 for the use of their sharp, beta-reading eyes. :)

~

Lucky Threats

~

“Ah, Potter.” Robards looked up as Harry walked into his office. “I’ve a new assignment for you.”

“Sir?”

Robards chuckled. “You’ll love this.”

“Oh?” Every instinct Harry had went on high alert. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Gesturing towards the chair facing his desk, Robards slid a folder across the desk. “High profile case. A celebrity Quidditch player has been getting threatening letters, and he wants Auror protection.”

Harry, eyebrow raised, opened the folder. “Who--? Oh no,” he muttered, scanning the contents quickly. “You’re sure he asked for me?”

Robards nodded. “He requested you specifically,” he said, tone dry. “Is there something we should know about you and the infamous Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons?”

“No, sir.” Harry tucked the folder in his robes. “We were at school together, but I haven’t spoken with him in years. I wonder why he asked for me?”

“Who can say?” Robards smirked. “Perhaps you can ask him when you report to Falcon headquarters and see what’s going on.” He scribbled something on a parchment before looking back up. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go protect Draco Malfoy.”

Harry shook his head. “Yes, sir,” he muttered as he walked out. Why was it always Malfoy?

~

“Right, that’s it!” Martin, the Falcons’ trainer, called out. “Good practice, everyone. Hit the changing rooms.”

The team and all the extras began coming in for landings, all except Draco, who continued circling in the air, deep in thought. Several minutes passed while he swooped around, reflexively executing training manoeurvres.

“Oi! Malfoy! Come on, practice ended ages ago.”

Startled, Draco realised he was the only one still flying. He began his descent. “All right, keep your knickers on,” he muttered as he landed. Gathering his broom, he walked past Martin.

“What’s wrong with you, anyway?” Martin caught his arm. “You all right? You’ve been really distracted lately.”

Draco shrugged him off. “Death threats will do that,” he snapped.

Martin held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, but don’t let it affect your game, yeah?”

“Merlin forbid,” Draco said dryly. “Right, well I’m off to the showers if that’s all right with you?”

“Everyone else is probably done,” Martin called after him.

“Which means I should have the place to myself. I can take a nice, long shower in peace,” Draco muttered. When he hit the changing rooms, he stripped, dropping his Quidditch gear into the hamper for the team elf. With a sigh, he then waved his wand at the taps, finally relaxing as he stepped under the hot water.

He soaped himself slowly, enjoying the sensation of being clean, of sliding slippery hands over his aching muscles. Tipping his head back, Draco then shampooed his hair, rinsing it clean.

As the water continued flowing over him, Draco licked his lips and considered what to do. Potter would probably be here soon, and Draco didn’t need any...distractions.

His cock, already half-hard, twitched. Draco gave himself a quick stroke. Surely I’ve time to wank before Potter arrives?

Biting back a moan, he moved his hand slowly, savouringly. Draco closed his eyes and leaned against the tile wall as he masturbated. In his mind he envisioned a faceless man, dark hair, broad shoulders, reaching for him, helping him. The man leaned close, whispering filthy things in Draco’s ear, making Draco groan, making his hand move faster.

“Fuck,” Draco whispered, his hand moving furiously, his thumb swiping the tip of his cock for extra stimulation. “Yes--”

“Come for me, Draco,” his fantasy man murmured, and in Draco’s mind he saw green eyes gazing at him.

“Potter!” Draco gasped, and then he was coming, spurting his seed onto the tile, watching it flow down the drain through blurry eyes as he collapsed onto the floor of the large, communal shower.

Draco sat for a moment and caught his breath, then froze. Someone else was there, he could hear them. “Who is it?” he said, scrambling to his feet. “Who’s there?”

“Malfoy?”

Damn. Draco knew that voice. “Potter?”

“Yes, I need to talk to you about--” Potter came around the corner and stopped, staring. “Bloody hell, you’re naked!”

Potter’s reaction was so funny that Draco smirked. He’d forgotten how very obvious Potter could be. “Yes,” he purred, pushing past Potter. “I tend to be when bathing. Do Gryffindors do it with clothes on, then?” He raised an eyebrow as he reached for a towel. “Explains a lot.”

Potter, predictably, turned red. “Prat. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

I’m just glad I finished wanking before he got here. Draco dried himself quickly, then pulled on some pants, but when he raised his head to look at Potter, Potter was staring at Draco like a starving man. Draco couldn’t help himself. He smiled. “Like what you see?”

Potter blinked, looking away. “I, er... Sorry. Right, can we start over? Just...tell me about these threats you’ve been receiving.”

Draco shivered. Oh yeah. Those. “I can do better than that, Potter,” he said. “I can show you. Come with me.”

~

Harry inspected the pile of parchments on the table, then looked up at Malfoy. “How long have you been getting these?”

“About a week.” Malfoy sighed. “Just my luck to find the perfect job and then have this happen. At first I thought they were a joke, but then there was that attack at one of our games a couple of days ago. You heard about that?”

“Yeah. It was the one where you trounced the Cannons, right?” Harry smiled at the memory.

Malfoy nodded. “It was.” He grinned. “I take it you follow the league.”

“Ron’s a huge Cannons fan. He was at that game and told me all about it.”

Malfoy whistled. “Weasley’s a Cannon’s fan? Wish I’d known that before playing them. It would have made the victory all the sweeter.”

“Prat,” Harry muttered, hiding his smile. “So someone tried to hex you after the match?” At Malfoy’s nod, he continued. “I read that Auror report; you were lucky to escape. Have you checked these letters for spells or charms?”

“Of course.” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I am not an idiot, Potter.”

Harry ignored that. “Did you find anything?”

“No.” Malfoy stood up. “I suppose Aurors might have a way to trace who sent them, but I don’t.”

“Not even with Dark methods?” Harry tried to make his tone as neutral as possible.

Malfoy inclined his head. “Let’s say that I theoretically did that. I was clearly unsuccessful, hence why I contacted you lot.”

“Right.” Harry bit his lip. “I’ll let that go.”

Malfoy smirked. “Whatever. Do you want some tea? It looks like this will take a while.”

“Yeah, all right.”

While Malfoy summoned an elf and ordered tea, Harry took a chance to look around Malfoy’s flat, what he could see of it, anyway. It was tastefully decorated in shades of brown and cream, with comfortable chairs and plush carpet. He hadn’t got a very good look before, as Malfoy had dragged him through and all but shoved him at the table covered with threatening letters. He’d been working ever since.

“Here.” Draco handed him a cup.

Harry took a sip and closed his eyes. “Mm, this is perfect.” His eyes flew open. “Wait, how’d you know how I take my tea?”

“Years of observation.” Malfoy looked embarrassed, and for a moment Harry thought he was blushing. “So have you discovered anything new in those?” he asked, pointing at the letters.

Harry shook his head, allowing the topic change, and as the conversation returned to official business, Harry strove to forget the way Draco had looked in the shower, calling out his name as he came.

~

“What do you think you’re doing?” Draco muttered as he walked out onto the field.

“Protecting you,” Potter whispered back. “What’s the matter? Scared I’ll spot the Snitch before you do? Just doing my job, no need to feel threatened, Malfoy.”

“As if.” Draco jumped on his broom and was off. Potter had been shadowing him for days, and it was getting harder to hide his attraction the more time they spent together.

Draco surveyed the field from his vantage point, trying not to wonder where Potter was. He was under his Invisibility Cloak, hoping to lure the attacker into, well, attacking. All Draco knew, though, was that Potter’d looked spectacular in his leathers before disappearing from view, damn him.

The Falcons were playing their fiercest rivals, the Appleby Arrows. Draco intended to soundly defeat the Arrows’ Seeker, Roger Dorkins. He despised Dorkins and the feeling was mutual.

The match began, and Draco’s mind began to drift, as it often did, towards what Potter would be like in bed. Thus, when he spotted a glint of gold, he hesitated, and that was enough time for Dorkins to start after it, Draco in hot pursuit.

It led them off the field and through woods, yet he still followed, until finally, the Snitch doubled back, flying straight at Draco. Grinning, he reached for it, only to be hit by a hex as he touched it.

“Cheater!” he screamed as he plummeted to the ground.

Dorkins simply grinned and dived for the Snitch, but his chuckles turned into shrieks when Potter appeared out of thin air, bound Dorkins, and snatched the Snitch.

“Potter!” Draco cried.

Potter waved his wand and Draco stopped abruptly, hovering mere inches above the ground. Closing his eyes, Draco sighed in relief. For the first time in his life he was glad that there apparently wasn’t anything that Potter couldn’t do. It’s a shame he won’t do me, though.

~

“Just a simple Quidditch rivalry,” Robards said.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “There was nothing simple about it. I always wondered why his hatred of me seemed so personal. Who knew it was because my father revealed to the Wizengamot that his uncle had been a Death Eater?”

“In comparison to some of the cases we get, this one was simple.” Robards smiled. “Anyway, we’ve successfully solved it, so Harry won’t be your personal guard anymore.” Robards sat back in his chair. “Why did you specifically request him, anyway? I asked around, and apparently you two were rivals.”

Draco looked away. “Because I knew he’d find the culprit. Why else?” Getting to his feet, he said, “May I go now?”

Robards inclined his head. “Good day.”

Outside Robards’ office, Draco looked around for a familiar messy head, and, not seeing it, sighed. I’ll have to come up with some other way to see him again, I suppose--

“Mal--Draco!”

Draco turned around to see Potter hurrying towards him. “Yes?”

“So, um, now that I’m no longer your bodyguard, I need to ask you something.”

“What?”

“The first night I went to see you and I found you in the shower, I, er, overheard something.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “You what?” He closed his eyes. My humiliation is complete.

“I heard you call out a name.” Potter was whispering, and had dragged him into a secluded alcove. “Was it... Was that... Were you pulling my leg?”

Staring into Potter’s eyes, Draco knew then that the attraction he’d felt wasn’t one sided. He smiled and stepped closer. “I wasn’t pulling anything but my own anatomy that night,” he said softly. “Why?”

“Oh.” Potter licked his lips. “Then would you consider having dinner with me, now that I’m not, you know, working on a case involving you?”

“Why should I?”

Potter grinned. “Because I’ve been spending a fair amount of time pulling my own anatomy because of you,” he admitted.

Unable to resist, Draco grinned back. There’s something to be said for Gryffindor honesty. “I’d consider it.” He took a deep breath. “Is Italian all right? I know a great place around the corner from my flat.”

“Brilliant.” Potter was beaming, and, when he reached over and squeezed Draco’s hand, Draco felt something inside him loosen. “So, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you ask for me on this case?”

Draco paused. Robards asking was one thing, it hadn’t been any of his business, after all, but this did concern Potter, so... “I requested you because I knew, no matter what, you’d protect me.” He smiled lopsidedly. “It’s...what you do.”

Pausing, Potter finally nodded, and as they walked out of the Ministry together, Draco wondered if perhaps the threats hadn’t been lucky after all.

~