Chapter Text
Harry was staring at the clock. It was ten minutes to five, it was Friday, and as much as he loved his job, he was ready to leave.
Hogwarts had re-open for term this year and tomorrow was Ginny’s first Hogsmeade weekend. They had been back together for the eleven months since he defeated Lord Voldemort and, more importantly, had started having real sex. Harry was positively addicted. She decided when Hogwarts opened that she would go back and finish her education as a tribute to Dumbledore. She wanted to be a teacher. Harry generally thought it was a good idea, except that since she had started back over a month ago, he hadn’t gotten laid once.
He was an Auror, had been for over two months now, and was the lowest man on the totem pole. They had let him skip training since he had managed the little feat of defeating the Darkest wizard in the history of the world, but he had insisted that he start at the bottom when they had graciously offered him the position of Assistant to the Head Auror, a man named Jude Demerest, a man that Harry didn’t really have feelings for one way or another. He had a tough time deciding to work for the Ministry as they had been nothing but a nuisance to him his entire life, but decided in the end that even if the Ministry was, by and large, a pile of crap, the work the Aurors did was extremely important.
It was five to five. He started shoving folders that he hadn’t really been looking at into file cabinets and packing up his things. In less than twenty four hours, he hoped to be ensconced in a little room above the Three Broomsticks, banging Ginny for all she was worth.
He was just standing to leave when a memo fluttered onto his desk. He groaned, recognizing the seal on the parchment at once. It was from Demerest himself. Harry opened it at once.
Potter,
Please stop by my office before you leave. I have a new assignment for you that starts right away.
Demerest
“Shit!” Harry said rather loudly.
“Wotcher Harry! What’s the problem?” Tonks asked, herself on the way out.
“Ruddy memo from Demerest about a new assignment. I’m suppose to be seeing Ginny tomorrow,” he pouted.
Tonks looked shocked.
“Oh no, surely they wouldn’t….”
“What? Is there something going on?” Harry demanded. He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder.
“Oh no, nothing! See you Monday! I hope,” she said, the first bit a little too brightly and the last bit under her breath. She quickly scurried away.
Harry was hot on her heels.
“Tonks, if you know something you’d better tell me!” he shouted as she got on the lift.
“What’s that Harry? Oh, sure, I’ll tell Remus hallo! Bye!”
She waved frantically as the door slid shut before her.
“You bloody well heard me,” Harry muttered darkly. He turned a made his way to Demerest’s office.
Harry poked his head in the door. Demerest was reading some sort of brief on his desk and Harry could see several pictures of an overgrown, weed infested shack spread out between the pages of the report.
“I hope when you said ‘starts immediately’ you meant after this weekend,” Harry said.
Demerest looked up, his characteristic double hard bastard look in place.
“No, Potter, I meant immediately. Sit down and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“I have sort of an important date this weekend,” Harry informed his boss with as little snot as possible. He thought maybe if he could play nice he could get his assignment delayed until at least Sunday.
“Well, I am sorry, Potter, but you’ll have to cancel it. We have a situation.”
Harry could almost feel his prick shrivel up in disappointment, but the hair’s on the back of his neck stood at attention. There hadn’t been a “situation” since he started.
“Yeah, alright. What is it?”
“You know all about Draco Malfoy, yes?”
Harry’s eyes bulged. Draco Malfoy. There was a name that he had very conciously tried to forget ever since the night the blonde had appeared at 12 Grimmauld Place, throat cut and near death. That he had the strength to Apparate had amazed them all. If it hadn’t been for Draco Malfoy, Harry was sure he’d still be hunting Voldemort instead of sitting here in the Head Auror’s office getting an assignment he didn’t want, which even still was a better deal. Despite this, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be reminded of his old rival.
“Yeah, course I do,” Harry finally answered.
“Well then you know that he has been under Ministry surveillance ever since you…ever since the war ended. For his own protection, of course. We’ve had a rather extensive team of Aurors around Malfoy Manor for nearly the last year –“
“I know all of this,” Harry interrupted. “What’s Draco Malfoy got to do with me?”
“He was nearly killed this morning in an attack in his bedroom. How the attacker or attackers got past our men and the wards on the manor are a mystery. We’re putting him in a safe house until we can get to the bottom of things. You’re going to guard him.”
Harry’s mouth gaped in disbelief. He erupted in laughter.
“You’re taking the piss, right?” he asked.
Demerest didn’t even break a smile.
“I’m afraid not, Potter. Whoever did this is extremely powerful and very dangerous. When I say he nearly died, I mean it. It has Death Eater written all over it. Traitor’s Fate. We wouldn’t even be moving him from St. Mungo’s if we didn’t fear for his life. Considering the circumstances,” Demerest dropped his eyes here, “we think you’re the best man for the job.”
Harry cocked an eyebrow, though inwardly he cringed. He had seen a lot of the Traitor’s Fate during the war.
“Oh really? Why’s that? So you can keep me safe from these new and powerful wizards?”
“Not at all. You’re just the only Auror that isn’t married or has children. If the assignment runs long, you won’t be missed.”
“My girlfriend will miss me. My friends will miss me. Why can’t you send McElroy? As far as I know, not only is he not married with kids, he doesn’t have friends or a girlfriend!”
“He’s got rank and he didn’t want the assignment. You’ve got one hour to pack and be back here. I suggest you write your girlfriend and tell her it may be a while before you see her.”
Harry sat back hard in his chair.
“How long is a while?”
“As long as it takes.”
“So theoretically I could be locked up with him for months?”
“Theoretically, Potter, it could be years. Now, time’s wasting. I suggest you go home, pack, and get your affairs in order. Don’t worry about anything else. We’ll send someone round your home to feed your owl and such. Now, off you go.”
Harry stormed out of the office, angrier than he’d been since he got his life back. He knew they had chosen him to guard Malfoy so that they could lock him in a safe house, too. Maybe even more so than protecting Malfoy. Even with the perfectly logical comments about family and rank, the fact was, Harry was one of the Ministry’s most qualified Aurors.
“Shit!” he shouted once the doors of the lift closed. Fuming, he made the ride down.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry strolled cooly back into the Ministry twenty minutes late with a look on his face that dared Demerest to say anything. He didn’t.
“Where’s Malfoy?” he asked as he entered Demerest’s office.
“He’s already at the location.”
Demerest pushed a file across the desk to Harry.
“Here’s the information you need. Familiarize yourself with it and we’re done. Make sure you have the coordinates memorized. I have to take that down to the Unspeakables when you’re finished and they’re not always very forgiving when they have to stay late. I don’t want you Disapparating back here because you missed a coordinate.”
Harry regarded him with ire.
“Have I ever missed a coordinate?”
“First time for all things.”
Harry flipped open the file. He recognized at once the photos of the dilapidated house from earlier that day.
“Again, you’ve got to be taking the piss.”
“Again, unfortunatley, no. It’s not as bad as it looks, Potter. I’m sure you slept in much worse during the war. Now, really. Hurry up. You’re already late.”
Harry sent him a scathing look and went back to the file.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry Apparated underneath his Invisibility Cloak into a dark wood, crowded with brush and overhanging vines. He would be meeting Shacklebolt at the house. Silently, he headed in that direction, thinking that giving Kingsley a good scare might be fun.
When he arrived, he didn’t see his fellow Auror anywhere. The tiny shack was before him, almost covered in ivy and vines, looking as if it might fall in at the first strong breeze. He took a step towards the door, only to have a wand pressed into his neck.
“Not sure where I’m poking, but if that’s you Potter, I win. If not, you’re under arrest,” Kingsley said.
Harry ripped off his cloak and looked up. Kingsley was hanging upside down in midair, the exact same pattern and color as the forest behind him thanks to a Disillusionment Charm.
“Very nice, Kings. And here I was thinking I was being stealthy in my wee little Invisibilitiy Cloak.”
Kingsley lowered himself to the ground with a laugh and returned himself to his normal color.
“I know what a joker you are by now. I was ready for you. It wasn’t until you took that last step that I even knew you were here. Bent a stick, you did. Come on then. If a man’s home is his castle, then you’ve arrived,” the big man joked, clapping Harry on the back with one hand while the other made a wide, arching sweep towards he shack. He looked like a game show host presenting Harry with a prize.
“Ha, ha. Speaking of fucking jokes,” Harry muttered as he shot a dark look at the shack.
“Malfoy’s already here?”
“Yeah. I suspect you won’t get much out of him tonight. He’s still quite ill from this morning. Went straight to bed. Since you’re here, I’ll be off if you don’t mind. Wife and kids, you know.”
Harry humphed. “Yeah, wife and kids. Convienient excuse, that. I’ll have to look into getting me one and some.”
“Oho! I’ll be sure to let a certain Ms. Weasley know you’re in the market next time I see her.”
Harry smiled for what he was sure to be his last for a while.
“Yeah, you do that.”
“See you when I see you Potter.”
“Alright.”
And with a pop, Kingsley was gone.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The shack had three rooms. A bedroom with an attached bathroom, and a the living room. Shoved in one corner of said living room was a cooker, small refrigerator and stacked washer dryer. It was dark, cold and dank, and absolutely dismal. It also came with a long list of rules.
There was to be no magic, except in the event of an attack, to prevent any sort of detection by Dark Wizards. There was no electricity use after dark, in case a wizard powerful enough to see past all the spells and charms on the shack happened by one night during a walk in this tangled section of wood and wondered about the light. There was a bed in the bedroom and the two person love seat in the living room folded out into another bed. There was no telly, stereo or radio, but a large number of books, as reading made no noise. They were not to go outside unless it was an extreme emergency. A fellow Auror would be by once every two weeks to deliver food and mail. Other than that, they would have no outside connection with the world.
“Bloody overkill if I ever saw it. What idiot in their right minds would come out here?” Harry muttered.
He pulled out the sofa bed, found some linens in a small cupboard and flopped down. He regretted it at once. The mattress was hard and lumpy with springs poking through in several places. He decided it would probably be more comfortable to just sleep on the sofa cushions, so folded the whole thing back up and flopped down again. It wasn’t much better.
It was almost full dark now, so there was no point getting involved in a book. Thinking of what he was going to miss tomorrow, Harry sat on the sofa, arms crossed, lips poked out and pouted as it grew darker and darker. Soon, it was pitch black and the only sound was the branches and vines scraping against the house. To Harry, they sounded like a creature trying desperately to claw it’s way out of somewhere terrible.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He had only slept a few hours when the sun coming in through the dusty windows woke him again. In those scant few hours, the weather outside had turned from cold and crisp to gray and sleety. Harry sighed heavily and planted his feet on the floor. He had to piss.
Which meant going into the bedroom where Malfoy was. He had purposefully, obsessively ignored all rumors and tales about the former Death Eater turned war hero and the fact that he was now stuck with him for Merlin knew how long finally hit home. He briefly thought about going outside to relieve himself (he had to go pretty badly, maybe that constituted an extreme emergency), but in the end, he did the reasonable thing and pushed himself off the sofa and shuffled towards the bedroom.
He opened the door as slowly as possible, hoping that Malfoy was still sleeping and hoping even more that he would not wake him if he was. Relief coursed through his body when the only evidence that the other man was there was a vague lump underneath the covers and a small tuft of impossibly white hair sticking out the top.
Harry snuck by the bed and into the miniscule bathroom. After wedging himself into the shower so that he could shut the door, he leaned forward, forearm pressed against the wall in front of him, and went about his business. To his surprise, his morning hard on did not cease and desist as it usually did. Checking to make sure that the door was locked, he licked his palm, and went about taking care of that little problem too.
At Hogwarts, where you could be walked in on at virtually anytime, anywhere, he had trained himself to get off in about two and half minutes, though these days he usually liked taking his time when he wanked. It was one of the things he liked most about having his own place, the capability to just sprawl out and wank anytime, anywhere without the threat of being interrupted. This, however, was not his own place, and sleeping or not, there was another person just on the other side of the paper thin door that was only inches away from Harry’s shoulder. So he reverted back to his Hogwarts training and got off as quickly as possible.
When he was done, he crept from the bathroom, glad to see that Malfoy was still asleep. He had just wrapped his hand around the bedroom doorknob when his gladness was blown out of the water.
“In the future, Potter, if you’re going to wank, can you at least wait until I’m not a mere four feet away from you? And please, send my condolences to the Weaslette. She must be the most unsatisfied woman in all of Britain.”
Harry flushed.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“I was,” Malfoy threw the blankets off and sat up. Harry, even in his state of supreme embarrassment, couldn’t help but notice how pale and weak he was, or the thick, rope like scar that scanned his neck from jawbone to jawbone. “But now, thanks to you, I am awake.” Draco looked around the room with an utterly bored expression before his eyes landed on Harry. “God. How I hoped this was just a hallucination caused by the attack.”
He stood and staggered. Harry jumped forward and grabbed him by the arm. Draco shook him off with more strength than Harry would have thought him capable.
“Leave me alone. I don’t need your help,” he sputtered. Harry let him go and he sat down, hard, on the edge of the bed. He only missed landing on the floor by inches.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked. The odd feeling of pity that he remembered from the night he had caught Draco crying in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom long ago surfaced again. It was so strange it gave him a chill.
“M dizzy.” Draco’s eyes rolled wildly in his head. That made sense, thought Harry. If they had tried to perform the Traitor’s Fate on him, he would have lost a considerable amount of blood.
Harry leaned over and scooped Draco into his arms and lay him back on the bed.
“Lie still, you. I’ll go make some breakfast. Maybe you’ll feel better after you eat something.”
Draco did not respond.
Harry pulled back one of his eyelids. It appeared that Draco had fainted.
“Christ,” Harry muttered. Not knowing what else to do, he left Malfoy alone and went to make breakfast for himself.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry didn’t wake Draco for breakfast or for lunch. But it would be dark soon, which meant no electricity, and he wanted his charge to eat something. So, with about an hour of light left, Harry cooked Draco dinner and took it to the bedroom.
Draco had once again disappeared under the covers so that just the top of his head was visible. Harry sat the plate of food on the small nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. Very gently, he shook Draco.
“Hey, Malfoy. Wake up. I’ve made you some bangers and mash.”
Draco groaned and rolled over. Harry could at least now see his eyes, which had fluttered open and looked a little clearer than they had that morning.
“Bangers and mash?” he mumbled through the covers. Even still, he managed to sound disdainful.
“We don’t exactly have a lot of choice,” Harry informed him as he picked up the plate and held it out to Draco.
Draco must’ve been hungry, Harry reckoned, because no more was said. The blonde came as close to wolfing down the food as one with his background could. When he was finished, Harry took the plate back to the kitchen. Even though the sun would still be up for another half hour or so, it was already dark in their little patch of forest.
He went back into the bedroom. Draco was in the shower, which, considering his dizziness from that morning, worried Harry a bit. He knocked lightly on the door. He could have sworn he heard a little yelp on the other side.
“Are you okay?” he called, although raising his voice probably wasn’t necessary in the confines of the shack.
“I’ll be fine if you stop trying to cause me a heart attack, you ignorant sod!” Draco snapped back.
Harry smiled and sat down on the bed. Malfoy was clearly feeling better. He bounced up and down on the mattress. It wasn’t a good mattress, but compared to the sofa, it was like a feather bed. Exhausted form his lack of sleep the night before and just genereal boredom, Harry lay down on the opposite side of where Draco had slept that morning. He dozed almost at once.
“What are you doing?” Draco snapped, bringing Harry back around.
“Sleeping. What does it look like, you ignorant sod?”
Draco ignored the taunt.
“You can’t sleep in here. I’m sleeping in here!” Draco said, voice shrill.
“Do you know how to cook, Malfoy?”
He couldn’t see Draco clearly in the dark, but it was so quiet Harry clearly heard him swallow.
“No.”
“Then I suggest you be nice and share this bed, unless you want to starve. That sofa thing is torture. Besides, it’ll be warmer. It’s not like we can run the heat at night and what with the weather, I doubt it’s going to be very cozy in here tonight.”
Draco got in bed, grumbling the while. He settled in, clinging to the very edge as if getting close to Harry was the worst thing imaginable.
“I’d rather not use the word cozy in relation to being in bed with you, Scarhead.”
Harry just rolled his eyes in the dark. “When are you going to grow up, Malfoy?”
“Well, I’d call you Four-Eyes, but I noticed you’ve stopped wearing your glasses.”
“Ministry corrected my vision. It’s an Auror requirement. Now, can we go to sleep? I barely got any last night.”
“Yeah, my sleep was a little interrupted yesterday, too,” Draco drawled.
“How far did they get?” Harry asked, voice low and quiet.
“I’d rather not discuss this,” Draco said.
“Fine. See you in the morning.”
Draco did not reply. He yanked even more blankets over his body, and Harry yanked back. A silent struggle ensued, and Malfoy finally did come off the better in the blankets department. But only because Harry reminded himself that he was sleeping with an ill man. Draco found sleep almost at once, but it was a long time before Harry was able to join him. His mind raced with thoughts of what Malfoy must have been through in the last two and half years. He finally fell asleep, and sometime in the night, he turned towards Malfoy and rested a protective hand on the small of the man’s back.