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Fic update
In the interest of pure spam, I was going 'waaaah' about my writing and found this lingering on my harddrive, although it's been finished for months. See, the thing is, I was waiting for a beta *cough![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
straypenstokescough* to get it back to me, but it's been months *beady look* and apparently she doesn't have time and it's already been beta'ed several times as is. I'm not exactly pleased with it, though, but I suppose I'll just have to deal.
You know the drill.
Previous chapters:
Enigma: Prologue
Enigma: Chapter 1
Enigma: Chapter 2
Enigma: Chapter 3
Enigma: Chapter 4
And for those who have been waiting, I present:
Enigma
~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 5
~*~*~*~*~
Hermione's wand tumbled to the ground. "Oh my god, Harry. What has he done?"
Harry looked toward her, almost eerily calm. “Tell me where he is, Hermione.”
Hermione stepped closer, bare feet inaudible on the green rug. “I told you before that I don’t know.”
“Suddenly, I don’t believe you,” Harry whispered, standing up and stalking toward her. “Where is he?”
Hermione looked toward the ground and clenched her eyes shut before taking a deep breath and looking at him bleakly. “I would have told you if I knew.”
“It’s dusty in here, Hermione. How long has it been since anyone’s been here?” Harry demanded.
Hermione looked at Harry, her eyes gleaming sardonically as she gestured to the closet and bed. “How can you even tell if it’s dusty in here, Harry? You’ve destroyed everything!” She tucked her hair behind her ears and sighed before continuing gently, “Do you want to know the truth? The truth is he’s missing. I really don’t know where he is. All right? Are you happy now?”
Harry’s breath caught in his throat. “My god, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t I tell you? Wh—” A choked laugh escaped Hermione’s lips, disbelief stamped across her face. “Harry.” She said his name softly as she strode to his side and grabbed his shoulders firmly. “Harry. The last time he got a hold of you, he sent you to St. Mungo’s! God, he’s not even here, and look at what he’s done to you!” Hermione’s hands were gentle as they cupped Harry’s face, forcing him to keep eye contact with her. “What kind of friend would I be if I let him do that to you again?”
Harry’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and he nodded reluctantly. “You’re right. I’m… sorry I snapped at you.”
“It’s all right,” Hermione smiled sweetly and let her hands fall to her sides. “I forgive you. Now,” her voice turned brisk as she looked at the notes in his hand. “What exactly are those?”
“Caligromancy Trans-audio intercepts,” he answered automatically.
Hermione gave Harry a wry look and crossed her arms over her chest. “I know that much.”
Harry righted the bed and sat down on the mattress, looking intently at the pages in his hand. "Five letter groups. This isn’t a direct Inner Circle transmission.”
Hermione sat next to Harry and tugged the records closer to her, angling the pages so she could read by the moonlight. “Picked up at Beaumanor.”
“Between 9:30 and midnight on May 23.” Harry shared a puzzled look with Hermione before turning back to the intercepts for any other clues. “These weren’t deciphered… ADU. ADU, does that mean anything to you, Herm?”
“Angels Dance Upward,” Hermione breathed.
Harry shot her a puzzled look. “What?”
Hermione blushed. “Angels Dance Upward—that’s what we would file it as. I don’t know exactly what it means—”
“You could find out,” Harry’s eyes danced with a mischievous light Hermione knew better than to trust.
Hermione scrambled away from the bed, staring at Harry in dismay. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”
Harry stood up and looked at Hermione, all traces of levity gone from his face. “I’m saying that to find Draco, we need to find out what he’s hiding.”
Hermione went over to Draco’s vanity, and took a deep trembling breath as she clenched her hands into fists. “Do you think he’s a traitor?”
Harry shrugged. “Does it really matter?”
Hermione whirled around, eyes stark in her pale face. “Does it really matter? Of course it matters! There are… there are a lot of reasons he could have them here. He could…” Hermione chewed on her bottom lip as she thought. “He could have forgotten to write them into the book and he might have been afraid of getting into trouble. Or he was just taking extra pages home to learn the code himself; you know how he always likes knowing everything. Or he could—”
“Or,” Harry interrupted quietly, “He could have stolen these intercepts and run away.”
Hermione shivered, wrapping her arms around herself and shaking her head. “You’re mad, and I would be madder, if I even… contemplated what you want me to do.”
“Hermione,” Harry said, and didn’t continue until she looked at him. “Wouldn’t it be better to know?” He read defeat in the slump of her shoulders, and hurried over to her with a quick embrace.
“I don’t know how you talk me into these things, Harry James Potter,” Hermione muttered finally, running a hand through her frazzled hair.
“It’s my boyish charm and charisma,” Harry told her earnestly, and Hermione gave a small snort of laughter.
“You need to go now, Harry. It’s getting late, and if we’re really going to do this…” Hermione pushed Harry toward the door, and he gave her a brilliant smile.
“Just remember, Hermione. ADU,” and then he was gone. Hermione sat in silence for a long while. She stood up slowly, carefully placing the pillows in the pillowcases and making the bed with single-minded intensity. There were so many memories in this house—when she had gone to the Auror Academy and discovered Draco Malfoy among their ranks, she had always thought it would be a blessing for him to vanish.
She was so wrong.
~*~*~
Harry wasn’t all that tired as he flew back to Hogwarts; it seemed to him that he was filled with a nervous energy that wouldn’t go away. I need to tell Ron about this, Harry thought to himself. And it’ll be like old times, solving the mystery. Except we’re trying to find Draco Malfoy and that’s not exactly how it used to be.
He had just made his way in from the Quidditch field and into his room when footsteps rang outside his rooms.
“Severus,” Sirius was saying in a low, hurried tone, “It’s awfully early. We shouldn’t be bothering Harry.”
“I have Sir Cadogan’s word that Harry is up and about,” Snape answered. “Surely he wouldn’t mind his godfather paying him a visit?”
Harry looked anxiously around his room, and the clock said "Almost Time to Wake Up!" He hadn’t even thought he'd been out so late. And now Snape was going to come ‘talk’ to him, and he didn’t doubt an interrogation of some sort.
He still had the intercepts.
Harry looked around again quickly; he couldn’t let it end this soon. Come on! His mind yelled. Where? Damn it! Harry took a deep breath and dashed to the next room before running back and removing his jacket as the door swung open.
“Um… hi!” He said pertly, offering Sirius and Snape a weak smile as he draped his jacket over his arm.
“Hello, Harry,” Sirius smoothed over his puzzled features as he nodded at Harry, while Snape simply glowered.
“It seems we have not disturbed you,” Snape said, giving Sirius a look. Sirius scowled.
“No, no, I’m awake. I couldn’t sleep, Hermione made me eat too much at dinner tonight, you know,” Harry babbled, and Snape’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Ah, yes, Miss Granger does tend to exert herself on her charity cases, does she not?” Snape asked.
Harry stared at Snape as he replied, “You would know, wouldn’t you? You seem to be friendly with her.”
“We… tolerate each other,” he acknowledged, inclining his head.
Sirius sighed, raising a hand to his temple. “Why do you two always argue with each other? Just once I would like to see you two be friendly.”
“But where is the amusement in that, Sirius?” Snape said archly, his mouth twisting into a derisive grin. “Surely you realize I’m being civil?”
“As a Horntail,” Harry mumbled.
Sirius laughed, shaking his head in bemusement as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sirius,” Snape asked solicitously, looking intently at the other man. Harry averted his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Snape behaving tenderly. It turned his stomach. “Are we giving you a headache? I believe there is some headache potion in our quarters, if that is indeed the case. Besides, I’d like to have a talk with Harry.”
He called me Harry, Harry realized, and his stomach dropped to his feet. Uh oh.
Sirius gave Harry a sheepish grin and shrugged. “I give up on you two. Don’t kill yourselves,” he told them sternly, and Harry offered Sirius a mischievous smile.
“I’ll make sure Snape has a beautiful funeral,” Harry assured him, and Sirius shook his head, shaking a fist in Harry’s direction. Harry and Snape watched in silence as Sirius left, and as soon as the door closed, Snape faced Harry with a sneer, all attempts at civility gone as he looked about the room.
“It is so very difficult to pretend as though I care a whit about you,” Snape explained.
“I thought you did a fairly decent job,” Harry answered.
“I did try,” Snape affirmed, leaning against the wall.
“So what can I do for you?” Harry asked, tossing his jacket over the back of a chair before sitting on his bed.
“I have been thinking,” Snape admitted, “about you a great deal. You broke the code, after all. Champagne and happy days with blue skies and no rain. And then you… cracked.” Snape’s voice was mournful as his eyes glittered maliciously in his pale face. “What happened, I wonder?”
“It’s personal.” Harry stated coolly.
Snape leaned forward. “I can keep a secret.” He straightened and stalked about the small room, his eyes darting back and forth to take in everything. “That’s the wonderful thing about war,” he continued mildly. “Peace is about keeping people in their place. War is a glory—it enriches the mass of life, creates heroes… Anyone who hadn’t cared about you before certainly did after you solved the code, did they not?” Snape walked the length of Harry’s room, his robes a soft hiss against the floor. "They just gave you whatever you wanted, didn't they? Everyone falling at your feet... offering any service..."
Harry jumped to his feet, his eyes glittering in fury as he motioned toward the door with his hand. "Get out. Now."
Snape inclined his head, striding toward the door. He turned his head slightly as he came to the door and paused. “I am, of course, talking about Draco.” Snape turned to Harry in a small swish of movement. “We’re rather worried about him. Officially, he’s been missing fourteen hours, but it’s more like forty-eight. He hasn’t been seen since Thursday.”
Harry straightened in annoyance. “I haven’t seen him since before I…”
“Have you heard from him?” Snape inquired smoothly, staring unblinkingly at Harry.
Harry glared, crossing his arms. "That's really none of your business, Snape."
Snape narrowed his eyes. "Everything is my business now, Potter. Haven't you realized that yet?"
Harry shook his head firmly. “No, I haven’t heard from him.”
Snape smirked, gesturing at the nightstand where the postcard lay. “Now, now, Mr. Potter, lying will get you nowhere. Please don’t waste my time. Are we in agreement?” Snape stalked closer to Harry, who defiantly refused to back up. “Did you go to the cottage tonight?”
Harry faltered, lowering his gaze. “Yes.”
Snape smiled, bearing his teeth in an almost-grimace. “Yes. Now we are getting somewhere.” Snape glided over to Harry’s bed, his eyes glittering as he stared at the younger man. “Did you ever discuss your work with him?”
Harry started, frowning angrily. “No! Of course not!”
Snape made a sound of discontent and opened the nightstand drawer, examining its contents. He turned back and made a motion toward Harry. “If I may see your jacket?” Harry glowered for a moment and went over to the chair, smoothing the creases of the folded jacket before handing it to Snape, who then proceeded to search the pockets. Snape cocked his head to the side as he pulled out the crumpled program, and Harry shrugged. Snape placed the jacket on the bed and moved closer to Harry, patting down his vest. He stopped for a moment to look inquisitively at Harry. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Harry’s mouth thinned into a hard line and his eyes narrowed. “I’m beginning to.”
Snape’s mouth twisted in amusement as he finished his search of Harry’s person, then shrugged in one smooth movement. “You understand the need for precautions, don’t you?” Snape asked as he looked about the room once more. “One day, blackout. Next day, vanished boyfriend. Rather suspicious, don’t you think?”
“Draco wasn’t my boyfriend,” Harry stated flatly. Snape stared at him curiously, and Harry shrugged. “We were seeing each other.”
“Is that what they call it these days?” Snape cleared his throat, his mouth contorting into a thoroughly entertained smirk.
“We were only seeing each other,” Harry insisted stubbornly.
“Very well,” Snape acquiesced. “What is it then that happened to you?” Harry frowned uncertainly, and Snape usurped an armchair, staring up at Harry in mock fascination. “Please take your time. Tell me everything.”
Harry looked into the fireplace, crossing his arms. "It started with the concert. The first one, you know, with the students who took Magical Music before Hogwarts closed?" He glanced at Snape, who inclined his head briefly. "And he was there."
"Music, Granger, is a step above mere academia," Draco was commenting as the musicians ended their piece. "And when a Malfoy takes a girl to a concert, they don't bring a book." Harry yelped, his attention torn away from the performers as a heavy book hit the back of his head. He swung around to glare at the person who had thrown it and locked eyes with a surprised Draco.
"Watch it, Malfoy. Some people would rather listen to music than you," Harry muttered, and Draco shrugged.
"That is highly unlikely. But I forgive your ridiculous assumption, as you have so recently sustained a head injury."
“And whose fault is that?” Harry grumbled, rubbing his sore head as Draco grinned engagingly.
“Hermione should know better than to carry such large books on her person,” Draco intoned agreeably. “She never knows when she’ll have a random urge to throw them.”
Harry fought against the smile tugging the corner of his mouth as Hermione flushed a deep red. “Harry, I didn’t—”
“Yes, Granger, we know,” Draco soothed. He leaned closer to Harry and whispered, “Humor her. You’ll stand a better chance at surviving the encounter.”
Harry grinned. “I know.”
“I would have never expected to see you here,” Draco continued, lounging in his seat.
“I’m just full of surprises, Malfoy,” Harry declared.
The crowd began to disperse, and Harry was slightly disturbed at how easily he fell into step beside Draco as the three of them made their way across the lawn. “If I had known you liked classical music, I would have invited you along with Hermione.” Draco mused, flashing a quick smile at the two of them. “In fact, next week, they’re playing Bach! What do you say the three of us attend?”
Hermione shook her head regretfully. “I can’t. They have me working the night shift that day.”
“Oh,” Draco said, crestfallen. “Poor you.” He turned and grabbed Harry’s arm. “What about you, Potter? Do you want to come with me?”
“‘Poor you.’ He always said that, you know,” Harry added, looking at Snape. “I never really recalled him saying it at Hogwarts, but then, we weren’t really friends, and he didn’t consider me poor, I suppose. But once we started training for our Auror licenses that’s all I heard. ‘You don’t know about this piece of history? Poor you,’ or ‘Poor you, you don’t know anything about the Dark Arts after all.’”
Snape nodded, and interlocked his fingers, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. “And then?”
“And then?” Harry offered Snape a weak smile. “And then I had the best month of my life.” Harry went over to the bed and sat down, staring at the postcard. “And a night…”
“Come on, Harry, surely you’ve learned to dance by now?” Draco pulled Harry out into the middle of the dance floor as Harry vainly tried to tug his arm away.
“No, not really. I can’t dance, okay?” Harry insisted, ignoring Draco’s sideways look.
“I’ll teach you, come on! It’s easy!” Draco prodded Harry through several steps, collapsing against Harry in laughter as Harry stepped on him for the fifth time. “Okay, maybe it’s not so easy. It’s all right. Not everyone can be as perfect as I am,” Draco smirked at Harry, who glowered back, flushing in embarrassment. “I suppose I don’t have to dance…”
“No, you want to dance, go ahead,” Harry relented with a sigh. “That girl’s been eyeing you since we came in, go dance with her.”
Draco stared at Harry intently. “If you’re sure…”
Harry smiled. “I’ll just watch from the sidelines to make sure she doesn’t try to steal you away.”
“As if anyone ever could,” Draco said, pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s mouth before fading into the crowd. Harry moved closer to the wall of the club as his eyes followed Draco’s head through the mass of dancing bodies. He was actually quite content to simply watch the way Draco moved--the way the light glowed on his skin, the way he swayed to the music--Harry was sure that 'poetry in motion’ was a phrase created specifically for Draco.
Draco flitted from one partner to another, never staying for more than one dance, until he made his way to where Harry was standing.
"Are you ready to go?" Harry asked curiously.
Draco scowled. "You’ve spoiled it."
"How did I spoil it?" Harry demanded, frowning at Draco.
Draco's face fell, and he moved closer to Harry, arms wrapping around his waist. "None of them were you."
"Draco," Harry breathed, and pulled him closer, blond hair tickling his cheek as Draco buried his face against Harry's shoulder. Harry noticed that several of Draco's dance partners were looking forlornly over to where they stood and he fought against a grin. Yes, this childish idiot is mine.
"Let's go," Draco commanded, pulling away abruptly. "Your Gryffindor sentimentality is showing through." Harry opened his mouth to retort, but shut it when he saw the shadowed look in Draco's eyes before the blond turned away.
“Where are we going?” Harry questioned as he followed Draco out of the club and they began to make their way across the crowded parking lot.
“Does it matter?” Draco wondered, stopping at a black convertible and sliding into the driver’s seat. “I just want to go.”
Harry looked admiringly at the sleek finish of the automobile as he climbed into the passenger’s seat. “I still don’t have any idea how you get these things, Draco.” Harry murmured enviously. “You’re always complaining that you don’t have any money.”
Draco shrugged, looking out of the corner of his eye at Harry. “I know a chap,” he declared neutrally, and started the automobile up. “Buckle up, Harry. I’m taking her skyward.”
“How’d you get so fascinated with spelled Muggle things, anyway?” Harry asked as he obediently buckled his safety belt.
“Let’s just say that my first exposure to the idea was very intriguing,” Draco remarked as they lifted off the ground. “After all, it’d become something of a fad before the war, and, simply put, I always have to have the best. Trying to get petrol for this thing is insane, I’ll give you that…”
Harry tilted his head back, looking toward the sky as Draco continued to prattle on. He tried to count the stars as they flew past, but they vanished too quickly from his sight, and he was too relaxed to try and chase after them. He angled his head to the side and watched Draco chatter, occasionally using a hand gesture to illustrate a point.
“…Of course, I told Cousin Matilda that what she had done was wrong. After all, experimenting on goats with strange hexes is the territory of a Dumbledore, and therefore should never be broached by a Malfoy. However, I don’t think I managed to help as much as I hoped, because she then graduated on to elephants, and that was when Mother said that Matilda couldn’t visit the manor anymore—”
"I love you." Harry declared abruptly, and instantly knew it was the truth, his chest tightening with realization.
Draco's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, and his mouth snapped shut with an audible click. "Oh, really? ... How do you know?"
"I'd rather look at you than at the stars," Harry answered softly.
Draco shot an amused glance over at Harry and shook his head. "You shouldn't say things like that during a war, Harry. It's hardly ever true."
"But I am being honest. I love you. I think I'll tell everything!" Harry unbuckled his safety belt and grinned impishly at Draco.
"What are you doing, you idiot!" Draco wondered, staring at Harry with wide eyes. "I always said Gryffindors were stupid, but I really don't need the proof!"
Harry ignored Draco and clambered on top of his seat, keeping his balance with tightly clenched hands gripping the upholstery. Okay, perhaps climbing onto the top of the passenger seat while Draco Malfoy was driving the automobile through the sky was a bad idea, but Harry was so happy it simply didn’t matter. Harry tossed his head back, letting the wind whistle over him, and cried out, "I love Draco Malfoy!" Before settling himself breathlessly back into his seat.
"You are..." Draco murmured, "...Unbelievable." He shook his head. "Mad."
"Mad for you," Harry agreed happily.
Draco shot a look toward Harry out of the corner of his eye, tilting his head slightly. “Harry?”
“Draco?” Harry answered, looking over at the blond.
Draco remained silent as he maneuvered the convertible down to the ground. There was a small bump as the car met the road, and Draco grinned. “Hold the wheel for me,” Draco requested, and Harry reached over to grab the steering wheel, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Do you have it?”
“Yeah,” Harry nodded, concentrating on the road with narrowed eyes. Harry gasped in surprise as Draco’s mouth covered his, and promptly swerved off the road and headlong into a tree.
“What part of ‘hold the wheel’ didn’t you understand?” Draco coughed as the dust from their collision cleared.
“Oh, god, are you okay?” Harry looked over at Draco in concern, and cringed at the frosty look in Draco’s eyes.
“I’m fine, Potter,” Draco said coolly, his eyes narrowed into slits. “But my car isn’t.”
“I’m so sorry, Draco,” Harry said, his voice tight with embarrassment.
Draco shook his head. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” he said, crawling over into Harry’s lap. “First, you ruin my dancing, and then you ruin my car.” Draco sent Harry another cold look as his fingers trailed down Harry’s chest. “By every single rule of polite society, you owe me compensation.”
“Compensation?” Harry gulped as Draco flipped open the button on the fly of his jeans.
“Yes, Potter,” Draco said slowly, as if speaking to a confused child. “Compensation.” Harry’s breath hissed out between his teeth as Draco’s hand wrapped around his cock. “And I must insist on prompt payment.” Draco leaned forward, his tongue moving over Harry’s throat. “Very prompt payment.”
“I could… I could fix your car,” Harry offered breathlessly, and Draco tugged sharply on Harry’s growing erection.
“Potter,” Draco said his voice full of disgust. “I’ve got your dick in my hand. Don’t irritate me.”
Whatever answer Harry had been trying to formulate in his mind vanished as Draco tightened his hand around him, pulling in a slow steady rhythm, and a low purr of delight spilled past his lips to take its place, his eyes falling shut.
“Harry,” Draco said in a reproving voice. “Open your eyes.” Harry opened his eyes slowly, and Draco nodded, a half-smile twisting his mouth. “Good boy. I want to see you.” Draco looked calm and absolutely indolent in Harry’s lap, and Harry was almost offended until he saw how Draco was watching him, intent and unblinking, nearly glowing with an inner light. Harry’s breath caught in his throat at the sheer hunger in Draco’s usually veiled eyes and he stifled a cry, burying his head against Draco’s shoulder as he climaxed in Draco’s hand.
“Well, that was fast,” Draco said lightly, removing his hand from Harry’s trousers and licking his fingers clean. Harry mumbled something against Draco’s throat, and Draco tilted his head. “What was that? I can’t quite hear you.”
“I said,” Harry rasped as he lifted his head. “That I want you. Now.” From what little expression Harry could see in his post-coital daze, Draco looked surprised.
“Harry, our first time is not going to be in my car,” Draco said huffily. “My trousers would be unsalvageable!”
“And they’re not now?” Both Harry and Draco looked down at their laps, where the evidence of Harry’s pleasure was slowly soaking into Draco’s trousers.
“Hmm,” Draco shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. Fancy that.” Harry opened his mouth to retort and found himself pinned against his seat, Draco’s hands in his hair as his mouth was thoroughly and enthusiastically explored. Harry leaned back to give Draco more room and rested his hands on Draco’s hips, tugging him closer.
There was a sudden ‘sproing’ sound as a spring gave way, and the seat flattened. Harry grunted in surprise at the short fall back onto the seat and the unexpected weight of Draco landing on his chest. He found himself picturing what he and Draco must look like— trousers half undone, hair a disheveled mess, making out at the scene of an accident. Harry started to laugh helplessly, and judging by the small sounds that Draco was stifling against Harry’s shoulder, the blonde was struggling to hold his laughter in as well.
Draco propped himself up on Harry’s chest with his elbows, looking down at Harry in amusement. “You do realize that you’re going to fix my car, right?”
Harry nodded, rising out of the seat a little and rubbing his nose against Draco's forehead. "I feel like I'm dreaming," Harry whispered, “Except I can’t figure out if it’s good or bad, and I keep expecting you to walk away.”
Draco stared quizzically at Harry. "You honestly don't know how long I've been waiting for you."
"Mmm. How long?" Harry asked as he pressed a kiss against Draco's mouth.
Draco's hands grazed Harry’s shirt as it ghosted up his spine, tracing the ridges of each vertebra in a soft caress. "Forever."
"So you let him—” Snape shook his head, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair.
"That's none of your business, Snape." Harry answered coldly.
"Forgive me," Snape remarked snidely. "Undoubtedly, it was some highly transcendent and magical moment for you. It is wrong of me to belittle such an experience."
Harry remembered everything about that night; how Draco had whispered his name, the sound of their breaths mixing as their hands clutched tightly together, the feel of Draco’s skin… but he’d be damned if he ever shared anything that personal with Snape. “Fuck you,” Harry spat, eyes narrowing in anger.
“Your proposition amuses me, but I fear I must decline. I prefer to find my partners attractive.” They glared at each other for a few minutes, indulging in a mutual ‘In Merlin’s Name How I Hate You’ moment before breaking the stare. “Is that all?” Snape questioned.
“Yes,” Harry answered quietly.
Snape frowned. “What happened between you?”
“Nothing,” Harry declared.
Harry clenched his eyes shut to drive the sunlight out and turned over, drowsily moving his arm to search for Draco. He heard a rustle in the room and craned his eyes open to find Draco wandering the room, poking through the things on his dresser. He could barely remember even getting back to his room. “Mmm. What are you doing, Draco?” he muttered, rubbing his eyes and reaching for his glasses.
“I’m looking for a souvenir, silly.” Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry and moved toward Harry’s bookcase, fingers brushing the binding of the books as he walked past. He randomly picked one out and looked at the title. “The Lord of the Rings?” Draco questioned as he flipped through the book. “Did you know he was a wizard?”
Harry shook his head. “No, we learned about Tolkien in Muggle Studies.”
Draco glared and dropped the book, stepping over it as he brandished a piece of paper. “I never liked Tolkien anyway.”
“What have you got?” Harry wondered, sitting up and watching Draco curiously.
Draco shrugged. “Just something with weird notations on it. What is it?”
“It’s notes for a theoretical magic I was tampering with,” Harry answered shortly. “Please give it back.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed mischievously. “I think I’ll keep it.” He clenched the paper in his hand and stepped away.
“I’m warning you, Draco, give it back to me. It’s mine.” Harry swung his legs over the bed and stared at Draco.
“Oh, really. What are you going to do about it, Potter?” Draco challenged, arching his eyebrow.
Harry pounced on Draco without another word and pinned the other man against the wall. The bones of Draco’s wrist ground together as Harry grasped at his hand, forcing his fingers to uncurl until he let go of the paper. Harry picked up the notations and put it in his dresser drawer, biting his lip anxiously. “I’m sorry if I hurt you Draco. I just… it was important to me, and no one else…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Draco husked into Harry’s ear, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. “I didn’t know you liked things rough. This opens an entirely new avenue of play, don’t you think?” Harry looked up uncertainly and caught Draco’s eyes in the mirror, stomach clenching in dread at the shuttered look in his eyes. Then he blinked and Draco was smirking playfully, leaning forward to nip at Harry’s shoulder. “I think this time you can top…”
“Nothing?” Snape murmured in disbelief.
Harry shrugged. “He moved on.”
Harry ran toward the shore of Hogwarts Lake, intent on reaching the blond man before he managed to successfully avoid him again. “Why won’t you answer any of my owls, Draco? What’s going on? I thought—I thought… Is there someone else?”
Draco turned toward Harry angrily, eyes flinty and hard as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t get it, do you? There’s always someone else.”
“He moved on,” Harry repeated.
Snape rose to his feet. “Not right.” At Harry’s look, Snape tapped a finger to his cheek and shook his head. “I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s not right. Draco has been obsessed with you since he was a child. He certainly wouldn’t move on.”
“Maybe he just found out how uninteresting I am and decided I wasn’t worth his time,” Harry answered hotly.
“Perhaps,” Snape scoffed. “But I sincerely doubt it. Draco never proved himself to be quite that logical. No, it wasn’t that at all.” Snape’s eyes narrowed, and he stared calculatingly at Harry. “So how does it feel?”
Harry grimaced. “How does what feel?”
“How does it feel to be a traitor, of course.” Snape arched an eyebrow. “It makes a great deal of sense, actually. We gave you the perfect cover by sending you away for a rest, didn’t we? And while you’re relatively useless in the long run, you are still the great Harry Potter. You could have easily sent a note of some sort, and a vast number of people would look the other way. Perhaps you are not as disturbed as everyone thinks you are.” Snape moved closer to Harry as he continued. “Tell me, how long has this deception of yours been in play? And… what was the expression on Voldemort’s face when he realized his greatest ally was the boy he’d been trying to murder for years?”
Harry made a disgusted noise, staring at Snape in horror. "What are you talking about?"
"The Death Eaters still have a margin for human error. But you took care of that for us, didn't you? They don't know our system, and that we don't use humans. They know there's a crack in their code because someone told them." Snape frowned and pinned Harry with an icy look. "Maybe even how we do it." Snape walked over to the bookshelves lining one wall and trailed his fingers over the bookbindings. Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. "And if they find out... there goes the war." Snape looked at his fingers and grimaced at the dust coating them before turning back to Harry. "Where is your lavatory? The house elves have been performing their duties less than satisfactorily as of late."
"It's right through there," Harry pointed the way and cleared his throat. He lingered in the doorway as Snape washed his hands, and bit his lip when Snape looked around the room. Snape noticed a pile of newspaper clippings on the counter of the sink and his mouth curled distastefully. Snape turned toward Harry and grabbed a towel to dry his hands, leaning against the counter.
"You take the term 'bachelor pad' to a new level, Potter," Snape said conversationally. "Being here makes me itch."
"Perhaps if you showered more often, itching would not be a problem," Harry shot back.
"You think that lowly of Sirius, do you?" Snape shook his head.
"Speaking of Sirius, I think he's calling for you," Harry cocked his head to the side. "Shall I go and tell him he isn't the only dog in your relationship?"
"Your witticism wounds me." All traces of amusement vanished from Snape's face as he glowered at Harry. "I am going to be watching you very closely, Potter. Very closely."
Harry glared and stepped out of Snape's way. "Have you told Sirius about your voyeuristic tendencies?" Snape sneered at Harry as he left, and Harry darted to the door, locking it before he took a deep breath. "Oh, that was close. Stupid jagoff." Harry went into the bathroom and picked up the newspaper clippings; his shoulders slumping in relief as he pulled out the intercepts he had hidden.
He had no idea what to do with them. Harry sat down on the bed and fingered the pages for a moment, staring down and wondering what kind of information lay in these pages. If I'm caught with these, Snape will be positive I'm a traitor. And if he says it, how long will it be before everyone else believes it? And what about Draco? Harry placed the intercepts into his fireplace and picked up his wand, twirling it absently.
"Talk to me," Harry pleaded, his feet skidding on the gravel in front of what used to be Hagrid's Hut as he shouted to Draco. "What do you want to know? Any secret. Ask me, damn you! I'll tell you! I'll tell you anything!"
Draco turned toward Harry, his eyes dark with pity. "Poor you. I really got under your skin, didn't I?"
"Incendio," Harry whispered. He lay back on his bed and watched as the intercepts burned.
TBC...
I hope you enjoy it! <33
straypenstokescough* to get it back to me, but it's been months *beady look* and apparently she doesn't have time and it's already been beta'ed several times as is. I'm not exactly pleased with it, though, but I suppose I'll just have to deal.You know the drill.
Previous chapters:
Enigma: Prologue
Enigma: Chapter 1
Enigma: Chapter 2
Enigma: Chapter 3
Enigma: Chapter 4
And for those who have been waiting, I present:
Enigma
~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 5
~*~*~*~*~
Hermione's wand tumbled to the ground. "Oh my god, Harry. What has he done?"
Harry looked toward her, almost eerily calm. “Tell me where he is, Hermione.”
Hermione stepped closer, bare feet inaudible on the green rug. “I told you before that I don’t know.”
“Suddenly, I don’t believe you,” Harry whispered, standing up and stalking toward her. “Where is he?”
Hermione looked toward the ground and clenched her eyes shut before taking a deep breath and looking at him bleakly. “I would have told you if I knew.”
“It’s dusty in here, Hermione. How long has it been since anyone’s been here?” Harry demanded.
Hermione looked at Harry, her eyes gleaming sardonically as she gestured to the closet and bed. “How can you even tell if it’s dusty in here, Harry? You’ve destroyed everything!” She tucked her hair behind her ears and sighed before continuing gently, “Do you want to know the truth? The truth is he’s missing. I really don’t know where he is. All right? Are you happy now?”
Harry’s breath caught in his throat. “My god, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t I tell you? Wh—” A choked laugh escaped Hermione’s lips, disbelief stamped across her face. “Harry.” She said his name softly as she strode to his side and grabbed his shoulders firmly. “Harry. The last time he got a hold of you, he sent you to St. Mungo’s! God, he’s not even here, and look at what he’s done to you!” Hermione’s hands were gentle as they cupped Harry’s face, forcing him to keep eye contact with her. “What kind of friend would I be if I let him do that to you again?”
Harry’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and he nodded reluctantly. “You’re right. I’m… sorry I snapped at you.”
“It’s all right,” Hermione smiled sweetly and let her hands fall to her sides. “I forgive you. Now,” her voice turned brisk as she looked at the notes in his hand. “What exactly are those?”
“Caligromancy Trans-audio intercepts,” he answered automatically.
Hermione gave Harry a wry look and crossed her arms over her chest. “I know that much.”
Harry righted the bed and sat down on the mattress, looking intently at the pages in his hand. "Five letter groups. This isn’t a direct Inner Circle transmission.”
Hermione sat next to Harry and tugged the records closer to her, angling the pages so she could read by the moonlight. “Picked up at Beaumanor.”
“Between 9:30 and midnight on May 23.” Harry shared a puzzled look with Hermione before turning back to the intercepts for any other clues. “These weren’t deciphered… ADU. ADU, does that mean anything to you, Herm?”
“Angels Dance Upward,” Hermione breathed.
Harry shot her a puzzled look. “What?”
Hermione blushed. “Angels Dance Upward—that’s what we would file it as. I don’t know exactly what it means—”
“You could find out,” Harry’s eyes danced with a mischievous light Hermione knew better than to trust.
Hermione scrambled away from the bed, staring at Harry in dismay. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”
Harry stood up and looked at Hermione, all traces of levity gone from his face. “I’m saying that to find Draco, we need to find out what he’s hiding.”
Hermione went over to Draco’s vanity, and took a deep trembling breath as she clenched her hands into fists. “Do you think he’s a traitor?”
Harry shrugged. “Does it really matter?”
Hermione whirled around, eyes stark in her pale face. “Does it really matter? Of course it matters! There are… there are a lot of reasons he could have them here. He could…” Hermione chewed on her bottom lip as she thought. “He could have forgotten to write them into the book and he might have been afraid of getting into trouble. Or he was just taking extra pages home to learn the code himself; you know how he always likes knowing everything. Or he could—”
“Or,” Harry interrupted quietly, “He could have stolen these intercepts and run away.”
Hermione shivered, wrapping her arms around herself and shaking her head. “You’re mad, and I would be madder, if I even… contemplated what you want me to do.”
“Hermione,” Harry said, and didn’t continue until she looked at him. “Wouldn’t it be better to know?” He read defeat in the slump of her shoulders, and hurried over to her with a quick embrace.
“I don’t know how you talk me into these things, Harry James Potter,” Hermione muttered finally, running a hand through her frazzled hair.
“It’s my boyish charm and charisma,” Harry told her earnestly, and Hermione gave a small snort of laughter.
“You need to go now, Harry. It’s getting late, and if we’re really going to do this…” Hermione pushed Harry toward the door, and he gave her a brilliant smile.
“Just remember, Hermione. ADU,” and then he was gone. Hermione sat in silence for a long while. She stood up slowly, carefully placing the pillows in the pillowcases and making the bed with single-minded intensity. There were so many memories in this house—when she had gone to the Auror Academy and discovered Draco Malfoy among their ranks, she had always thought it would be a blessing for him to vanish.
She was so wrong.
~*~*~
Harry wasn’t all that tired as he flew back to Hogwarts; it seemed to him that he was filled with a nervous energy that wouldn’t go away. I need to tell Ron about this, Harry thought to himself. And it’ll be like old times, solving the mystery. Except we’re trying to find Draco Malfoy and that’s not exactly how it used to be.
He had just made his way in from the Quidditch field and into his room when footsteps rang outside his rooms.
“Severus,” Sirius was saying in a low, hurried tone, “It’s awfully early. We shouldn’t be bothering Harry.”
“I have Sir Cadogan’s word that Harry is up and about,” Snape answered. “Surely he wouldn’t mind his godfather paying him a visit?”
Harry looked anxiously around his room, and the clock said "Almost Time to Wake Up!" He hadn’t even thought he'd been out so late. And now Snape was going to come ‘talk’ to him, and he didn’t doubt an interrogation of some sort.
He still had the intercepts.
Harry looked around again quickly; he couldn’t let it end this soon. Come on! His mind yelled. Where? Damn it! Harry took a deep breath and dashed to the next room before running back and removing his jacket as the door swung open.
“Um… hi!” He said pertly, offering Sirius and Snape a weak smile as he draped his jacket over his arm.
“Hello, Harry,” Sirius smoothed over his puzzled features as he nodded at Harry, while Snape simply glowered.
“It seems we have not disturbed you,” Snape said, giving Sirius a look. Sirius scowled.
“No, no, I’m awake. I couldn’t sleep, Hermione made me eat too much at dinner tonight, you know,” Harry babbled, and Snape’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Ah, yes, Miss Granger does tend to exert herself on her charity cases, does she not?” Snape asked.
Harry stared at Snape as he replied, “You would know, wouldn’t you? You seem to be friendly with her.”
“We… tolerate each other,” he acknowledged, inclining his head.
Sirius sighed, raising a hand to his temple. “Why do you two always argue with each other? Just once I would like to see you two be friendly.”
“But where is the amusement in that, Sirius?” Snape said archly, his mouth twisting into a derisive grin. “Surely you realize I’m being civil?”
“As a Horntail,” Harry mumbled.
Sirius laughed, shaking his head in bemusement as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sirius,” Snape asked solicitously, looking intently at the other man. Harry averted his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Snape behaving tenderly. It turned his stomach. “Are we giving you a headache? I believe there is some headache potion in our quarters, if that is indeed the case. Besides, I’d like to have a talk with Harry.”
He called me Harry, Harry realized, and his stomach dropped to his feet. Uh oh.
Sirius gave Harry a sheepish grin and shrugged. “I give up on you two. Don’t kill yourselves,” he told them sternly, and Harry offered Sirius a mischievous smile.
“I’ll make sure Snape has a beautiful funeral,” Harry assured him, and Sirius shook his head, shaking a fist in Harry’s direction. Harry and Snape watched in silence as Sirius left, and as soon as the door closed, Snape faced Harry with a sneer, all attempts at civility gone as he looked about the room.
“It is so very difficult to pretend as though I care a whit about you,” Snape explained.
“I thought you did a fairly decent job,” Harry answered.
“I did try,” Snape affirmed, leaning against the wall.
“So what can I do for you?” Harry asked, tossing his jacket over the back of a chair before sitting on his bed.
“I have been thinking,” Snape admitted, “about you a great deal. You broke the code, after all. Champagne and happy days with blue skies and no rain. And then you… cracked.” Snape’s voice was mournful as his eyes glittered maliciously in his pale face. “What happened, I wonder?”
“It’s personal.” Harry stated coolly.
Snape leaned forward. “I can keep a secret.” He straightened and stalked about the small room, his eyes darting back and forth to take in everything. “That’s the wonderful thing about war,” he continued mildly. “Peace is about keeping people in their place. War is a glory—it enriches the mass of life, creates heroes… Anyone who hadn’t cared about you before certainly did after you solved the code, did they not?” Snape walked the length of Harry’s room, his robes a soft hiss against the floor. "They just gave you whatever you wanted, didn't they? Everyone falling at your feet... offering any service..."
Harry jumped to his feet, his eyes glittering in fury as he motioned toward the door with his hand. "Get out. Now."
Snape inclined his head, striding toward the door. He turned his head slightly as he came to the door and paused. “I am, of course, talking about Draco.” Snape turned to Harry in a small swish of movement. “We’re rather worried about him. Officially, he’s been missing fourteen hours, but it’s more like forty-eight. He hasn’t been seen since Thursday.”
Harry straightened in annoyance. “I haven’t seen him since before I…”
“Have you heard from him?” Snape inquired smoothly, staring unblinkingly at Harry.
Harry glared, crossing his arms. "That's really none of your business, Snape."
Snape narrowed his eyes. "Everything is my business now, Potter. Haven't you realized that yet?"
Harry shook his head firmly. “No, I haven’t heard from him.”
Snape smirked, gesturing at the nightstand where the postcard lay. “Now, now, Mr. Potter, lying will get you nowhere. Please don’t waste my time. Are we in agreement?” Snape stalked closer to Harry, who defiantly refused to back up. “Did you go to the cottage tonight?”
Harry faltered, lowering his gaze. “Yes.”
Snape smiled, bearing his teeth in an almost-grimace. “Yes. Now we are getting somewhere.” Snape glided over to Harry’s bed, his eyes glittering as he stared at the younger man. “Did you ever discuss your work with him?”
Harry started, frowning angrily. “No! Of course not!”
Snape made a sound of discontent and opened the nightstand drawer, examining its contents. He turned back and made a motion toward Harry. “If I may see your jacket?” Harry glowered for a moment and went over to the chair, smoothing the creases of the folded jacket before handing it to Snape, who then proceeded to search the pockets. Snape cocked his head to the side as he pulled out the crumpled program, and Harry shrugged. Snape placed the jacket on the bed and moved closer to Harry, patting down his vest. He stopped for a moment to look inquisitively at Harry. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Harry’s mouth thinned into a hard line and his eyes narrowed. “I’m beginning to.”
Snape’s mouth twisted in amusement as he finished his search of Harry’s person, then shrugged in one smooth movement. “You understand the need for precautions, don’t you?” Snape asked as he looked about the room once more. “One day, blackout. Next day, vanished boyfriend. Rather suspicious, don’t you think?”
“Draco wasn’t my boyfriend,” Harry stated flatly. Snape stared at him curiously, and Harry shrugged. “We were seeing each other.”
“Is that what they call it these days?” Snape cleared his throat, his mouth contorting into a thoroughly entertained smirk.
“We were only seeing each other,” Harry insisted stubbornly.
“Very well,” Snape acquiesced. “What is it then that happened to you?” Harry frowned uncertainly, and Snape usurped an armchair, staring up at Harry in mock fascination. “Please take your time. Tell me everything.”
Harry looked into the fireplace, crossing his arms. "It started with the concert. The first one, you know, with the students who took Magical Music before Hogwarts closed?" He glanced at Snape, who inclined his head briefly. "And he was there."
"Music, Granger, is a step above mere academia," Draco was commenting as the musicians ended their piece. "And when a Malfoy takes a girl to a concert, they don't bring a book." Harry yelped, his attention torn away from the performers as a heavy book hit the back of his head. He swung around to glare at the person who had thrown it and locked eyes with a surprised Draco.
"Watch it, Malfoy. Some people would rather listen to music than you," Harry muttered, and Draco shrugged.
"That is highly unlikely. But I forgive your ridiculous assumption, as you have so recently sustained a head injury."
“And whose fault is that?” Harry grumbled, rubbing his sore head as Draco grinned engagingly.
“Hermione should know better than to carry such large books on her person,” Draco intoned agreeably. “She never knows when she’ll have a random urge to throw them.”
Harry fought against the smile tugging the corner of his mouth as Hermione flushed a deep red. “Harry, I didn’t—”
“Yes, Granger, we know,” Draco soothed. He leaned closer to Harry and whispered, “Humor her. You’ll stand a better chance at surviving the encounter.”
Harry grinned. “I know.”
“I would have never expected to see you here,” Draco continued, lounging in his seat.
“I’m just full of surprises, Malfoy,” Harry declared.
The crowd began to disperse, and Harry was slightly disturbed at how easily he fell into step beside Draco as the three of them made their way across the lawn. “If I had known you liked classical music, I would have invited you along with Hermione.” Draco mused, flashing a quick smile at the two of them. “In fact, next week, they’re playing Bach! What do you say the three of us attend?”
Hermione shook her head regretfully. “I can’t. They have me working the night shift that day.”
“Oh,” Draco said, crestfallen. “Poor you.” He turned and grabbed Harry’s arm. “What about you, Potter? Do you want to come with me?”
“‘Poor you.’ He always said that, you know,” Harry added, looking at Snape. “I never really recalled him saying it at Hogwarts, but then, we weren’t really friends, and he didn’t consider me poor, I suppose. But once we started training for our Auror licenses that’s all I heard. ‘You don’t know about this piece of history? Poor you,’ or ‘Poor you, you don’t know anything about the Dark Arts after all.’”
Snape nodded, and interlocked his fingers, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. “And then?”
“And then?” Harry offered Snape a weak smile. “And then I had the best month of my life.” Harry went over to the bed and sat down, staring at the postcard. “And a night…”
“Come on, Harry, surely you’ve learned to dance by now?” Draco pulled Harry out into the middle of the dance floor as Harry vainly tried to tug his arm away.
“No, not really. I can’t dance, okay?” Harry insisted, ignoring Draco’s sideways look.
“I’ll teach you, come on! It’s easy!” Draco prodded Harry through several steps, collapsing against Harry in laughter as Harry stepped on him for the fifth time. “Okay, maybe it’s not so easy. It’s all right. Not everyone can be as perfect as I am,” Draco smirked at Harry, who glowered back, flushing in embarrassment. “I suppose I don’t have to dance…”
“No, you want to dance, go ahead,” Harry relented with a sigh. “That girl’s been eyeing you since we came in, go dance with her.”
Draco stared at Harry intently. “If you’re sure…”
Harry smiled. “I’ll just watch from the sidelines to make sure she doesn’t try to steal you away.”
“As if anyone ever could,” Draco said, pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s mouth before fading into the crowd. Harry moved closer to the wall of the club as his eyes followed Draco’s head through the mass of dancing bodies. He was actually quite content to simply watch the way Draco moved--the way the light glowed on his skin, the way he swayed to the music--Harry was sure that 'poetry in motion’ was a phrase created specifically for Draco.
Draco flitted from one partner to another, never staying for more than one dance, until he made his way to where Harry was standing.
"Are you ready to go?" Harry asked curiously.
Draco scowled. "You’ve spoiled it."
"How did I spoil it?" Harry demanded, frowning at Draco.
Draco's face fell, and he moved closer to Harry, arms wrapping around his waist. "None of them were you."
"Draco," Harry breathed, and pulled him closer, blond hair tickling his cheek as Draco buried his face against Harry's shoulder. Harry noticed that several of Draco's dance partners were looking forlornly over to where they stood and he fought against a grin. Yes, this childish idiot is mine.
"Let's go," Draco commanded, pulling away abruptly. "Your Gryffindor sentimentality is showing through." Harry opened his mouth to retort, but shut it when he saw the shadowed look in Draco's eyes before the blond turned away.
“Where are we going?” Harry questioned as he followed Draco out of the club and they began to make their way across the crowded parking lot.
“Does it matter?” Draco wondered, stopping at a black convertible and sliding into the driver’s seat. “I just want to go.”
Harry looked admiringly at the sleek finish of the automobile as he climbed into the passenger’s seat. “I still don’t have any idea how you get these things, Draco.” Harry murmured enviously. “You’re always complaining that you don’t have any money.”
Draco shrugged, looking out of the corner of his eye at Harry. “I know a chap,” he declared neutrally, and started the automobile up. “Buckle up, Harry. I’m taking her skyward.”
“How’d you get so fascinated with spelled Muggle things, anyway?” Harry asked as he obediently buckled his safety belt.
“Let’s just say that my first exposure to the idea was very intriguing,” Draco remarked as they lifted off the ground. “After all, it’d become something of a fad before the war, and, simply put, I always have to have the best. Trying to get petrol for this thing is insane, I’ll give you that…”
Harry tilted his head back, looking toward the sky as Draco continued to prattle on. He tried to count the stars as they flew past, but they vanished too quickly from his sight, and he was too relaxed to try and chase after them. He angled his head to the side and watched Draco chatter, occasionally using a hand gesture to illustrate a point.
“…Of course, I told Cousin Matilda that what she had done was wrong. After all, experimenting on goats with strange hexes is the territory of a Dumbledore, and therefore should never be broached by a Malfoy. However, I don’t think I managed to help as much as I hoped, because she then graduated on to elephants, and that was when Mother said that Matilda couldn’t visit the manor anymore—”
"I love you." Harry declared abruptly, and instantly knew it was the truth, his chest tightening with realization.
Draco's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, and his mouth snapped shut with an audible click. "Oh, really? ... How do you know?"
"I'd rather look at you than at the stars," Harry answered softly.
Draco shot an amused glance over at Harry and shook his head. "You shouldn't say things like that during a war, Harry. It's hardly ever true."
"But I am being honest. I love you. I think I'll tell everything!" Harry unbuckled his safety belt and grinned impishly at Draco.
"What are you doing, you idiot!" Draco wondered, staring at Harry with wide eyes. "I always said Gryffindors were stupid, but I really don't need the proof!"
Harry ignored Draco and clambered on top of his seat, keeping his balance with tightly clenched hands gripping the upholstery. Okay, perhaps climbing onto the top of the passenger seat while Draco Malfoy was driving the automobile through the sky was a bad idea, but Harry was so happy it simply didn’t matter. Harry tossed his head back, letting the wind whistle over him, and cried out, "I love Draco Malfoy!" Before settling himself breathlessly back into his seat.
"You are..." Draco murmured, "...Unbelievable." He shook his head. "Mad."
"Mad for you," Harry agreed happily.
Draco shot a look toward Harry out of the corner of his eye, tilting his head slightly. “Harry?”
“Draco?” Harry answered, looking over at the blond.
Draco remained silent as he maneuvered the convertible down to the ground. There was a small bump as the car met the road, and Draco grinned. “Hold the wheel for me,” Draco requested, and Harry reached over to grab the steering wheel, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Do you have it?”
“Yeah,” Harry nodded, concentrating on the road with narrowed eyes. Harry gasped in surprise as Draco’s mouth covered his, and promptly swerved off the road and headlong into a tree.
“What part of ‘hold the wheel’ didn’t you understand?” Draco coughed as the dust from their collision cleared.
“Oh, god, are you okay?” Harry looked over at Draco in concern, and cringed at the frosty look in Draco’s eyes.
“I’m fine, Potter,” Draco said coolly, his eyes narrowed into slits. “But my car isn’t.”
“I’m so sorry, Draco,” Harry said, his voice tight with embarrassment.
Draco shook his head. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” he said, crawling over into Harry’s lap. “First, you ruin my dancing, and then you ruin my car.” Draco sent Harry another cold look as his fingers trailed down Harry’s chest. “By every single rule of polite society, you owe me compensation.”
“Compensation?” Harry gulped as Draco flipped open the button on the fly of his jeans.
“Yes, Potter,” Draco said slowly, as if speaking to a confused child. “Compensation.” Harry’s breath hissed out between his teeth as Draco’s hand wrapped around his cock. “And I must insist on prompt payment.” Draco leaned forward, his tongue moving over Harry’s throat. “Very prompt payment.”
“I could… I could fix your car,” Harry offered breathlessly, and Draco tugged sharply on Harry’s growing erection.
“Potter,” Draco said his voice full of disgust. “I’ve got your dick in my hand. Don’t irritate me.”
Whatever answer Harry had been trying to formulate in his mind vanished as Draco tightened his hand around him, pulling in a slow steady rhythm, and a low purr of delight spilled past his lips to take its place, his eyes falling shut.
“Harry,” Draco said in a reproving voice. “Open your eyes.” Harry opened his eyes slowly, and Draco nodded, a half-smile twisting his mouth. “Good boy. I want to see you.” Draco looked calm and absolutely indolent in Harry’s lap, and Harry was almost offended until he saw how Draco was watching him, intent and unblinking, nearly glowing with an inner light. Harry’s breath caught in his throat at the sheer hunger in Draco’s usually veiled eyes and he stifled a cry, burying his head against Draco’s shoulder as he climaxed in Draco’s hand.
“Well, that was fast,” Draco said lightly, removing his hand from Harry’s trousers and licking his fingers clean. Harry mumbled something against Draco’s throat, and Draco tilted his head. “What was that? I can’t quite hear you.”
“I said,” Harry rasped as he lifted his head. “That I want you. Now.” From what little expression Harry could see in his post-coital daze, Draco looked surprised.
“Harry, our first time is not going to be in my car,” Draco said huffily. “My trousers would be unsalvageable!”
“And they’re not now?” Both Harry and Draco looked down at their laps, where the evidence of Harry’s pleasure was slowly soaking into Draco’s trousers.
“Hmm,” Draco shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. Fancy that.” Harry opened his mouth to retort and found himself pinned against his seat, Draco’s hands in his hair as his mouth was thoroughly and enthusiastically explored. Harry leaned back to give Draco more room and rested his hands on Draco’s hips, tugging him closer.
There was a sudden ‘sproing’ sound as a spring gave way, and the seat flattened. Harry grunted in surprise at the short fall back onto the seat and the unexpected weight of Draco landing on his chest. He found himself picturing what he and Draco must look like— trousers half undone, hair a disheveled mess, making out at the scene of an accident. Harry started to laugh helplessly, and judging by the small sounds that Draco was stifling against Harry’s shoulder, the blonde was struggling to hold his laughter in as well.
Draco propped himself up on Harry’s chest with his elbows, looking down at Harry in amusement. “You do realize that you’re going to fix my car, right?”
Harry nodded, rising out of the seat a little and rubbing his nose against Draco's forehead. "I feel like I'm dreaming," Harry whispered, “Except I can’t figure out if it’s good or bad, and I keep expecting you to walk away.”
Draco stared quizzically at Harry. "You honestly don't know how long I've been waiting for you."
"Mmm. How long?" Harry asked as he pressed a kiss against Draco's mouth.
Draco's hands grazed Harry’s shirt as it ghosted up his spine, tracing the ridges of each vertebra in a soft caress. "Forever."
"So you let him—” Snape shook his head, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair.
"That's none of your business, Snape." Harry answered coldly.
"Forgive me," Snape remarked snidely. "Undoubtedly, it was some highly transcendent and magical moment for you. It is wrong of me to belittle such an experience."
Harry remembered everything about that night; how Draco had whispered his name, the sound of their breaths mixing as their hands clutched tightly together, the feel of Draco’s skin… but he’d be damned if he ever shared anything that personal with Snape. “Fuck you,” Harry spat, eyes narrowing in anger.
“Your proposition amuses me, but I fear I must decline. I prefer to find my partners attractive.” They glared at each other for a few minutes, indulging in a mutual ‘In Merlin’s Name How I Hate You’ moment before breaking the stare. “Is that all?” Snape questioned.
“Yes,” Harry answered quietly.
Snape frowned. “What happened between you?”
“Nothing,” Harry declared.
Harry clenched his eyes shut to drive the sunlight out and turned over, drowsily moving his arm to search for Draco. He heard a rustle in the room and craned his eyes open to find Draco wandering the room, poking through the things on his dresser. He could barely remember even getting back to his room. “Mmm. What are you doing, Draco?” he muttered, rubbing his eyes and reaching for his glasses.
“I’m looking for a souvenir, silly.” Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry and moved toward Harry’s bookcase, fingers brushing the binding of the books as he walked past. He randomly picked one out and looked at the title. “The Lord of the Rings?” Draco questioned as he flipped through the book. “Did you know he was a wizard?”
Harry shook his head. “No, we learned about Tolkien in Muggle Studies.”
Draco glared and dropped the book, stepping over it as he brandished a piece of paper. “I never liked Tolkien anyway.”
“What have you got?” Harry wondered, sitting up and watching Draco curiously.
Draco shrugged. “Just something with weird notations on it. What is it?”
“It’s notes for a theoretical magic I was tampering with,” Harry answered shortly. “Please give it back.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed mischievously. “I think I’ll keep it.” He clenched the paper in his hand and stepped away.
“I’m warning you, Draco, give it back to me. It’s mine.” Harry swung his legs over the bed and stared at Draco.
“Oh, really. What are you going to do about it, Potter?” Draco challenged, arching his eyebrow.
Harry pounced on Draco without another word and pinned the other man against the wall. The bones of Draco’s wrist ground together as Harry grasped at his hand, forcing his fingers to uncurl until he let go of the paper. Harry picked up the notations and put it in his dresser drawer, biting his lip anxiously. “I’m sorry if I hurt you Draco. I just… it was important to me, and no one else…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Draco husked into Harry’s ear, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. “I didn’t know you liked things rough. This opens an entirely new avenue of play, don’t you think?” Harry looked up uncertainly and caught Draco’s eyes in the mirror, stomach clenching in dread at the shuttered look in his eyes. Then he blinked and Draco was smirking playfully, leaning forward to nip at Harry’s shoulder. “I think this time you can top…”
“Nothing?” Snape murmured in disbelief.
Harry shrugged. “He moved on.”
Harry ran toward the shore of Hogwarts Lake, intent on reaching the blond man before he managed to successfully avoid him again. “Why won’t you answer any of my owls, Draco? What’s going on? I thought—I thought… Is there someone else?”
Draco turned toward Harry angrily, eyes flinty and hard as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t get it, do you? There’s always someone else.”
“He moved on,” Harry repeated.
Snape rose to his feet. “Not right.” At Harry’s look, Snape tapped a finger to his cheek and shook his head. “I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s not right. Draco has been obsessed with you since he was a child. He certainly wouldn’t move on.”
“Maybe he just found out how uninteresting I am and decided I wasn’t worth his time,” Harry answered hotly.
“Perhaps,” Snape scoffed. “But I sincerely doubt it. Draco never proved himself to be quite that logical. No, it wasn’t that at all.” Snape’s eyes narrowed, and he stared calculatingly at Harry. “So how does it feel?”
Harry grimaced. “How does what feel?”
“How does it feel to be a traitor, of course.” Snape arched an eyebrow. “It makes a great deal of sense, actually. We gave you the perfect cover by sending you away for a rest, didn’t we? And while you’re relatively useless in the long run, you are still the great Harry Potter. You could have easily sent a note of some sort, and a vast number of people would look the other way. Perhaps you are not as disturbed as everyone thinks you are.” Snape moved closer to Harry as he continued. “Tell me, how long has this deception of yours been in play? And… what was the expression on Voldemort’s face when he realized his greatest ally was the boy he’d been trying to murder for years?”
Harry made a disgusted noise, staring at Snape in horror. "What are you talking about?"
"The Death Eaters still have a margin for human error. But you took care of that for us, didn't you? They don't know our system, and that we don't use humans. They know there's a crack in their code because someone told them." Snape frowned and pinned Harry with an icy look. "Maybe even how we do it." Snape walked over to the bookshelves lining one wall and trailed his fingers over the bookbindings. Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. "And if they find out... there goes the war." Snape looked at his fingers and grimaced at the dust coating them before turning back to Harry. "Where is your lavatory? The house elves have been performing their duties less than satisfactorily as of late."
"It's right through there," Harry pointed the way and cleared his throat. He lingered in the doorway as Snape washed his hands, and bit his lip when Snape looked around the room. Snape noticed a pile of newspaper clippings on the counter of the sink and his mouth curled distastefully. Snape turned toward Harry and grabbed a towel to dry his hands, leaning against the counter.
"You take the term 'bachelor pad' to a new level, Potter," Snape said conversationally. "Being here makes me itch."
"Perhaps if you showered more often, itching would not be a problem," Harry shot back.
"You think that lowly of Sirius, do you?" Snape shook his head.
"Speaking of Sirius, I think he's calling for you," Harry cocked his head to the side. "Shall I go and tell him he isn't the only dog in your relationship?"
"Your witticism wounds me." All traces of amusement vanished from Snape's face as he glowered at Harry. "I am going to be watching you very closely, Potter. Very closely."
Harry glared and stepped out of Snape's way. "Have you told Sirius about your voyeuristic tendencies?" Snape sneered at Harry as he left, and Harry darted to the door, locking it before he took a deep breath. "Oh, that was close. Stupid jagoff." Harry went into the bathroom and picked up the newspaper clippings; his shoulders slumping in relief as he pulled out the intercepts he had hidden.
He had no idea what to do with them. Harry sat down on the bed and fingered the pages for a moment, staring down and wondering what kind of information lay in these pages. If I'm caught with these, Snape will be positive I'm a traitor. And if he says it, how long will it be before everyone else believes it? And what about Draco? Harry placed the intercepts into his fireplace and picked up his wand, twirling it absently.
"Talk to me," Harry pleaded, his feet skidding on the gravel in front of what used to be Hagrid's Hut as he shouted to Draco. "What do you want to know? Any secret. Ask me, damn you! I'll tell you! I'll tell you anything!"
Draco turned toward Harry, his eyes dark with pity. "Poor you. I really got under your skin, didn't I?"
"Incendio," Harry whispered. He lay back on his bed and watched as the intercepts burned.
TBC...
I hope you enjoy it! <33
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I love how Hermione is rational, willing to consider the other possibilities. “He could have forgotten to write them into the book and he might have been afraid of getting into trouble. Or he was just taking extra pages home to learn the code himself; you know how he always likes knowing everything." Because I, like Harry, immediately jumped to the same conclusion, but this is Hermione all over.
And ah, Snape. You will always write wonderful Snape.
"Perhaps if you showered more often, itching would not be a problem," Harry shot back.
This line rules all. :)
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*laughs and loves*
Cai