FIC: Surrender the Grey (19/30)
Aug. 3rd, 2005 07:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emmagrant01NOTE: This is the first draft of this story. The final version can be read HERE.
Title: Surrender the Grey
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco Malfoy returns to London after five years of self-imposed exile to start a new life with Harry. But will the secrets of the past destroy everything they've worked for?
Sequel to: Left My Heart. This will make much more sense if you have read that first!
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no copyright violation intended.
Length: 150,000 words
Status: COMPLETED November 2, 2005 (Posted March 2 - November 2, 2005)
Notes:
1. Please don't archive this story yet! This is the first draft, and in the next few months, it will be revised and edited. I'll post the final version on my website and a few other select archives, but in the meantime, feel free to link to this post.
2. There aren't enough words to say THANK YOU to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jedirita, hazelhawthorne, and charlotteschaos for beta-ing this story! These are some of the hardest-working betas out there, and they deserve lots of snaps for putting up with me for eight months.
3. Even though the backstory of this fic only assumes canon up through Order of the Phoenix, I stole a few cool ideas from Half Blood Prince. Cause they were cooler than mine...
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18
(19)
Harry had double-encrypted the letter, first with his own private code and then with Draco's public code. To decrypt it, Draco had to reverse the process. He cast the spells one after the other, and the letters rearranged themselves on the page before his eyes. He settled back against the door and began reading.
Draco, Harry began, you have no idea how happy I was to find you at last. There are so many things I need to tell you, and I suppose it's good that I'm writing them down. It's easier than talking, sometimes.
Draco smiled -- he knew exactly what Harry meant. They'd been crossing wires enough lately as it was. For some reason, being around Harry could make Draco a bit irrational.
Harry explained that he'd been following several leads ever since it had become clear to him who was sustaining the smothering spell at the Ministry. He'd brought up the idea of shutting it down at a meeting more than a week before, but the others had objected. Including you, I know, and I do understand your reasons -- but for me, it was very important to learn more. Draco understood that feeling all too well.
Harry went on to explain that he'd learned it was Arnold Bass himself who was responsible for the smothering spell. Draco had to put the parchment down and pace the room at this news. He should have known, he thought, after the way Bass had been behaving. Always quiet, always hovering in the background, not drawing attention to himself. And then there'd been that very odd meeting Draco'd had with him the morning before he was arrested.
Draco picked the parchment up again and picked up where he'd left off. Harry had confronted Bass two weeks earlier, and Bass had told him it was for the good of everyone that the truth of what happened not be learned until it was time.
I asked how he knew when the time was right, and he said the strangest thing. He said, "You'll tell me." And I think I stared back at him for the longest time, and he just stood there and smiled. Then I asked him why he cast the spell in the first place, and he said -- and I'll never forget the look on his face when he said it -- "Because the Minister for Magic asked me to, Harry." So apparently Fallin is responsible for the smothering spell? Frankly, I've never thought him quite that bright.
Draco filed that bit of information away to stew over, along with everything else that had been revealed to him in the last few days. The pieces were all starting to fit together in a sort of blurry image. He just couldn't yet get a view of the entire picture.
He scanned Harry's confessions about his other activities -- Death Eaters he'd been in contact with, meetings he'd attended, several of which Draco had been present at as well.
You're probably wondering why I didn't say anything to you about those meetings. I was embarrassed, to be honest, that if I did tell you you'd wonder why I was there. It seems strange now, of course, but at the time, you seemed so in control of everything, and I thought that my presence there would just complicate things up for you. I was afraid you'd think I was spying on you.
Harry went on to explain how he'd felt increasingly guilty until the night they'd had their big fight, and he'd decided that he needed to make a bold gesture. When Draco had rejected his offer to move in, he'd been certain Draco knew he'd been less than honest.
Draco closed his eyes and sighed. He wondered how things would have been different had he accepted Harry's offer that night. How ironic that he'd said no for the same reason Harry had made the offer in the first place.
A knock on the door interrupted his reading. He stashed the parchment under his bed and opened the door. Heather was standing on the other side, looking furious. She stalked past him into the room.
"What the fuck is this?" she hissed, shaking the strappy dress he'd bought for her in the village.
Draco couldn't help but grin. "That's a rhetorical question, isn't it?"
She held the dress up to her body and glared at him. "I was hoping for something I could at least wear in public, you know. But this is…" She made a vague gesture with one hand, as if groping in the air for words.
"Look," Draco said, trying his best to sound soothing, "he loved it. He can't wait to see you in it."
"That's the problem!" she spat, shaking the dress again. "You have no idea what he's like in bed."
Draco winced -- he had more of an idea than he ought to.
"If I can't walk tomorrow, it'll be your fault!" She jabbed an acrylic-tipped nail into his chest. "And trust me, I know how to hold a grudge."
Draco blew out a breath. "Oh, come on -- I thought you'd…" He paused as an idea stuck him. He retrieved his wand from where he'd left it on the bed and accio'd the curtain ties from the far window. With a flick of his wand, he transfigured them into two pairs of Muggle handcuffs. Her eyes widened comically when he handed them to her.
"Do I really have to explain?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She gaped at him in response.
"Be strong," he said, turning her by the shoulders and steering her towards the door. "Dominating. You know... make him your bitch." A strangled sound between a sob and a laugh emerged from her still-gaping mouth. Draco pushed her through the open door. "And have fun. He'll love it."
He shut the door, leaving her standing in the corridor with a strange expression on her face. Had he really just given her advice about how to please his own father in bed? Draco shook his head to clear it and settled on the bed with Harry's letter.
So I overreacted, to be honest. I asked you to leave, and then I regretted it almost instantly. The following night, I had resolved to tell you everything, for better or worse.
Draco had to scan backwards to remember where he was in the timeline. Ah yes, the night they were to meet at Mela. Harry explained that he'd waited an hour that night, and when Draco hadn't shown up he'd feared the worst. He had contacted several people he knew in the Ministry, who knew nothing. He'd finally contacted Cho. After a tense conversation, she'd confirmed that Draco had been arrested. From Harry's description, it sounded as if they'd had a stunning row. In the end, Harry had decided it was best if he didn't interfere.
Everyone else was livid, thinking you had betrayed us all -- I've never seen Manny so angry -- but I couldn't tell them then, not in front of Aurors, that I knew what you'd been doing. I had a conversation with Tonks in private, and she told me that the two of you had been working together. She felt terrible about everything, and wanted to help. I had no pull left with the Ministry anymore, at least not with anyone who could make a difference. I suggested Tonks tell your assistant. I had remembered that she was in Slytherin and -- forgive the stereotype -- I thought she might have the best connections to someone who could help get you out. And to be honest, I knew it would probably be Lucius. I'm sorry about that, for what it's worth.
Draco couldn't help but smile. He knew how much Harry loathed his father. He wondered if Harry knew he'd been exchanging owls with Lucius for nearly a week before he was arrested. He'd forgotten to put that little detail in his own letter.
After Draco escaped, Harry had confessed everything to Hermione and Manny. They were both angry with him for a few days, during which time the story hit the papers and he'd gone into hiding to escape the media attention. He had then focused his attention on finding Draco and working on a plan for contacting him. Hermione came around at last and filled Harry in on what she'd learned about Ron's research.
She doesn't know what to think about what happened to Ron, but she agrees with me that it's difficult to imagine that you cast the spell that killed him. Manny says it's just what we want to believe, but to be perfectly honest, we're both waiting to find out what really happened.
Draco closed his eyes for a moment as anxiety washed over him yet again. He'd lost Manny forever, it seemed, and that knowledge was more painful than he could have anticipated. What would happen if he lost Harry as well? There was nothing he could do about it now, of course. Best to let it lie until he had to face it.
After a good deal of wheedling, Hermione had finally agreed to give Harry access to Ron's work. It had not proved terribly illuminating, but there was a single page at the very end of the log that had written on it only the words triple perfidio.
Draco repeated the words a few times. It didn't sound like a potion. And what did "triple" refer to? There had apparently been three of them involved, but could it be that simple? Maybe it didn't mean anything at all.
Draco re-encrypted the pages and settled back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
+++++
An hour after dinner, Draco was summoned to the main parlor by a scowling house-elf. He paused before the mirror to give his hair an artful ruffle before leaving the room. The house-elf muttered something under its breath and disappeared, having completed its task to fetch him.
He walked downstairs and paused outside the parlor's double doors to listen for a moment.
"--and I don't like it, Malfoy," a man's voice said. "I don't understand how you've managed to get this far."
"The situation is not nearly as dire as you seem to think," Lucius said. Draco could hear the forced smile in his voice. "Cognac?"
Draco stepped around the corner, a sly smile plastered on his face. "Good evening," he said.
The man who'd been speaking turned to look at him. He was older than Lucius, though he looked as if he took great pride in maintaining as youthful an appearance as possible. His robes were fashionable in that way that screamed mid-life crisis, and he had spelled his hair into a fairly obvious comb-over. Draco watched the man's eyes slide over his body and up again, only to dart away when Draco's met them. Draco allowed himself a small smirk. He shifted his glance to the figure standing behind the man, the reason Draco had been summoned here tonight.
Colby Hannick almost blended into the woodwork. He was dressed simply but provocatively in clingy black Muggle clothing; he was clearly meant to be seen and not heard. His posture indicated he understood his position. He kept his eyes down, and didn't acknowledge Draco at all.
"Rodolfus, may I present my son, Draco," Lucius said, watching the man's face. "Draco, this is Rodolfus Abernathy, an old acquaintance of mine."
Draco walked four steps into the room, feeling the weight of Abernathy's gaze. "Pleasure," he said, careful not to look at Colby at all.
"Indeed," Abernathy replied. He took a generous sip of cognac, keeping his eyes on Draco. Draco kept smiling, despite an overwhelming urge to go wash himself off.
"Rodolfus and I have much to discuss," Lucius continued. "Draco, would you see that his companion is made comfortable?"
Draco let his eyes shift to Colby then. Colby seemed to shrink before him, and still didn't look up. The mousy persona he displayed here was such a far cry from his obnoxious prattling several nights before that it took Draco by surprise. He hadn't known Colby was this good.
"Yes, father," he said, letting his gaze turn hungry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Abernathy stiffen. "Come with me, boy," he said. Colby nodded and crossed to him, looking more than a little reluctant to leave Abernathy's side. Draco smirked at Abernathy, who returned a mild glare.
Lucius nodded at Draco as he steered Colby out of the room. Lucius had arranged this meeting with the intention of getting information about Abernathy out of Colby, and he'd given that task to Draco. It had turned out to be fortuitous for Draco as well.
They were barely out of earshot before Colby heaved a huge sigh. Draco glanced over to see a grim expression settle on his face. Colby straightened up, seeming to grow a few inches, but he kept his eyes straight ahead. "Malfoy, at last."
Draco didn't reply. He led Colby up a flight of stairs and down a corridor to the room where he and Abernathy would be spending the night. It was a large suite, larger than the room Draco stayed in. The focal point of the room was an enormous bed, lavishly decorated with a frilly duvet and pillows.
"Get comfortable," Draco quipped as the door closed behind them. "But then, I suppose there are worse places to be on your back."
"Fuck you," Colby hissed, stepping past him and surveying the room. "What the hell is this place, anyway, a hotel?"
Draco shrugged. Heather had once suggested that the castle was a Muggle bed and breakfast before Lucius acquired it. Draco had never asked his father about it.
Colby turned to look at him as if expecting him to speak -- and so Draco stepped forward and kissed him. He could feel Colby stiffen in surprise.
"Surveillance," Draco whispered, nuzzling his cheek.
"I wondered why you hadn't decked me yet," Colby replied, voice more breathy than it had been a moment before. "Not that I'm complaining." He leaned forward and clamped his open mouth over Draco's with enthusiasm.
Draco pushed, walking him backwards towards the bathroom. He'd forgotten what an atrocious kisser Colby was: what he lacked in technique he tried to make up for with sheer quantity of tongue.
Draco had cased the room earlier that evening and determined that the bathroom was the safest place to talk freely. He'd even cast a silencing spell around it in advance. Once they were inside, Draco spun Colby around and pressed him against the closed door. He stepped back and cast a quick binding spell, fixing his arms to the door at his sides.
Colby's face split into a grin. "That a wand in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"
Draco responded by punching him in the stomach. Colby collapsed forward, hanging from the door by his arms and gasping for breath.
"That's for almost getting Harry killed," Draco spat, rubbing his fist. "Go near him again and I'll remove a favored bit of your anatomy."
"Fucking hell…" Colby groaned, still nearly on the floor. "Give me a break, all right? I didn't know."
"Didn't know Lucius intended to harm him? You may be a Muggle, but you aren't that stupid, Hannick."
"I'm sorry, okay?" Colby coughed. He managed to look up at Draco from his awkward position. "Do you think I had a choice?"
"You always have a choice," Draco replied, stepping back, making it clear he wasn't going to help Colby to his feet.
"Look, I fucked up, and no one has paid the price more than I have." Colby shifted and managed to get his knees under him. "I'd give anything to go back and change it all, everything from the first moment Lucius offered me a job. I had no idea I'd wind up…" He trailed off and winced, hunching over.
"A sex slave?" Draco finished. "Funny, it seems to be something you're quite good at."
"I can't afford to be bad at it," Colby mumbled. "I came here to ask for your help, all right? I know we've had our difficulties, but--"
"You want my help?" Draco snorted. "What in hell makes you think I would do anything for you, after everything you've done?"
Colby managed to straighten up again. "I was hoping we could help each other. I realize I don't have much to offer, but believe me, I'll do anything. I can't..." He shook his head and looked away. "I can't live like this."
"Some might say you got what you deserved," Draco said.
Colby laughed, the sound humorless and pathetic. "No one deserves this."
Draco pursed his lips. Colby seemed desperate, and that made him a bit more trustworthy than he'd ever been before. They could probably get information from Colby, at the very least.
"Tell me everything you've seen and heard in the last few weeks," Draco said. "And perhaps then I'll consider helping you."
"Everything?" Colby asked. "That'll take a while."
"What, have you got someplace to be?" Draco snorted, sitting on the toilet lid. "And don't bother lying -- I'll know."
Colby spent the next twenty minutes detailing what had happened to him since Lucius had taken him from San Francisco and forced him into service. Colby's task was to seduce the men Lucius assigned him to. Sometimes he was given to people as a reward for something they'd done. At other times, his job was to ensure the person wound up in a compromising position, so that Lucius could exploit them.
Draco listened, forcing himself to watch Colby's face, read his body language. It could very well have been him in that position. More than five years ago, Lucius had found him in London. He'd run away after his eighteenth birthday, and with no future in the Wizarding World to speak of, he'd promptly blown through all of his money partying. He'd stepped out of a dance club one night, high on a mix of coke and ecstasy, and was sucking off a hot bloke in an alley when someone apparated behind him and knocked him unconscious. He'd awakened at the Manor, with Lucius ranting at him: If you're determined to behave like a common whore, you can do it in the service of the Dark Lord!
Lucius's threat had cut through the haze of drugs, sex, and self-destruction he'd been living in for months. Draco knew he was serious, and he also knew that Lucius had no regard for him. As soon as an opportunity to escape presented itself, he had headed straight for the Ministry of Magic and appealed for amnesty. They hadn't known what to make of him, and after a few days of keeping him under observation, Severus Snape himself had shown up. He'd vouched for Draco personally, to Draco's surprise, and convinced the Ministry to allow him into the Auror training program.
Even more of a surprise, they had consented, despite the fact that Draco wasn't technically qualified -- he'd always suspected his NEWT results had been bought by Lucius; he couldn't possibly have done that well. He went into the program reluctantly, knowing no one thought he deserved to be there. It was a long, uncomfortable, lonely eight months, but it was a better fate than the one his father had intended for him. The one Colby was now trapped in.
Colby told him whom he'd been involved with, and what Lucius had wanted from each of the targets. He avoided personal details of what it had taken to get some of that information. Draco didn't ask him to elaborate.
"Why haven't you tried to escape?" Draco asked when Colby finally fell silent.
"I did," Colby replied, voice small. He paused for a moment and his eyes glazed over. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have sex used as a weapon against you?"
"Yes," Draco replied before he could stop himself. He frowned, but there was no taking it back. He looked down to see Colby's brown eyes staring up at him. "Unfortunately."
"At least Heather doesn't remember. My punishment is that I do." Colby stared into space for a moment. He seemed to be on the verge of breaking down. He closed his eyes, and then opened them again. "I know you have no reason to, but will you help me?"
Draco wasn't much of a Legilimens, but it was easier with Muggles than with wizards. There was nothing but desperation and fear in Colby's thoughts. Draco's eyes narrowed. "You must do something for me first, to prove that I can trust you. If you do, I promise I will help you."
"And Heather?" Colby pressed.
Draco was surprised -- the Colby he remembered was only out for himself. "Are you sure she wants rescuing?"
Colby nodded. "I can't leave her here. It's all my fault she's in this mess."
Draco nodded and released the binding spell with a wave of his hand. Colby collapsed to the floor, heaving a sigh of relief.
"Now, listen carefully," Draco said, standing over him. "There is something I want you to do."
+++++
Cold, rough brick pressed into Draco's back, but it was nothing compared to the hand clamped around his throat. Weasley's angry face loomed over his, the only thing in his field of vision.
"This was your doing," he growled, punctuating the word your with an extra squeeze of Draco's throat. "You must fix it."
Draco opened his mouth and managed to squeak out a sound of protest.
"We each had a key," Weasley said. "Harry holds one. Find the others."
Draco nodded. He was starting to see stars.
"Do you understand me?" Weasley asked, his face a strange mix of anger and concern. "You must find those keys."
He released Draco suddenly, stepping back. Draco stared at him, watching his freckled face grow pale. He rubbed at his throat. "Keys," he managed, though he sounded as if he had laryngitis.
"And blood," Weasley whispered, beginning to fade away. Draco could see a shadowy figure through him, standing across the alley. "There's blood," he repeated, and then he was gone.
Across the alley stood Lucius, staring at Draco. He rubbed at his sore throat again.
+++++
Friday, 12 March, 2004
It was mid-afternoon when Draco stepped out of the fireplace and into the headmaster's office. Snape wasn't there, so Draco settled himself into a chair across from his desk.
Lucius had almost seemed pleased when Draco had requested an opportunity to meet with Snape that morning. Draco had insisted on going to the Headmaster rather than inviting him to the castle, so Lucius had convinced the man to open the floo temporarily.
"Mister Malfoy," a familiar voice said.
Draco turned to see a portrait of Albus Dumbledore beaming at him. "Professor… sir," he managed, surprised.
"It's good to see you again. I trust Harry is well?"
Draco gaped. How could a portrait know anything about his love life? "As well as… can be expected, under the circumstances," he replied. "I suppose."
"And you?"
Draco shrugged in response. Dumbledore had barely said a dozen words to him when he'd been a student here. It seemed odd to be conversing with an image of him now.
Fortunately, Snape entered the room at that moment, saving Draco from further small talk. He sat behind the large desk, a familiar scowl on his face.
"Well? What was so urgent that it required I cancel a staff meeting to see you -- an escaped fugitive, no less?"
Draco swallowed. "I… Sorry." He had planned to start this conversation by telling Snape how much he had appreciated him intervening with the Ministry years ago. Snape raised an eyebrow at him, and Draco decided to plow ahead with the real reason for the visit. "I'll get to the point, then. Have you ever heard of a potion called perfidio?"
"No." Snape pursed his lips. "Are you certain there is such a potion?"
"No, but I know that I was making a potion just before… three years ago, and the word perfidio has come up in our research."
Snape sighed and leaned forward over the desk. "You are just as stubborn a man as you were a child. You ought to have taken my advice about this matter."
"It's too late now," Draco replied. "And why are so many people interested in keeping what happened a secret?"
"Everyone except you, Mr. Potter, and your father, you'll note," Snape replied. "Shouldn't that tell you something?"
Draco sighed and sunk into his chair. "I'm asking you as a personal favor, Headmaster. I know you owe me nothing, but… We will find out what happened. We're getting very close. If you have any information that would help, we'd be grateful."
"We?" Snape repeated.
"Harry and I." Draco said. "Lucius won't learn more than I tell him."
Snape sneered. "Surely you've learned not to underestimate your father. I suspect he knows much more than you think."
Draco shrugged, but he couldn't ignore the twist of anxiety in his belly.
Snape waved his hand and the tea set on the desk began to steam. The pot poured two cups, then nudged one of them towards Draco. Snape picked up the other and sighed. "You know of the plot to contain the Dark Lord?"
"Yes," Draco replied. "Lucius told me it was your idea to collaborate with the Ministry."
Snape nodded. "After Dumbledore's death, it seemed the only way. I knew they would bring Potter in, and despite my personal differences with him, I did believe him the only one capable of getting the job done."
Draco resisted the urge to smile, and sipped his tea instead.
"I know nothing of what happened between the time Potter was brought in and the Dark Lord disappeared. But afterwards, Lucius requested my help. He had sent you away amid rumbles about your responsibility for Ron Weasley's death, and he told me that neither you nor Potter had any memory of what had happened. I went to St. Mungo's to interrogate Potter myself, but…" Snape paused to sip his tea. "It was as if the memory had been locked away. There was nothing I could do to uncover it, and I suspected that you and he had cast some sort of memory charm on each other."
"But memory charms remove memories," Draco said. "If we had wanted to forget, we could have done that, but the fact that we didn't must mean we intended to remember. We didn't want it to remain a secret forever."
"Perhaps," Snape replied. "Lucius was livid, of course, because the plan had entailed containing the Dark Lord, to use him as a source of power. But there was no trace of him. No one knew if he had been destroyed. And those of us who had been involved in the conspiracy were left with the unsettling knowledge that if those faithful to the Dark Lord learned we'd been involved…" He trailed off and cast a glare at one of the portraits on the wall, which had started mumbling under its breath.
"But that's happening now, isn't it?" Draco asked. "They're more and more suspicious, and Lucius is losing his supporters." He leaned forward, placing his teacup on the desk. "If we don't find out what happened, there will be a war."
"And if you do find out what happened," Snape retorted, "will the outcome be different?"
Draco leaned back in his chair again. He had no answer for that.
Snape stood, shaking out his robes. "I will look through my personal library. If I learn anything about this perfidio, I will let you know."
"Thank you," Draco replied, standing. "And sir… thank you for--"
"I'm very busy," Snape interrupted. "My apologies." He gestured toward the fireplace.
+++++
"Not again," Draco groaned. "Can't I go as someone else?"
Lucius held the vial of polyjuice potion out again, an expression of impatience on his face. "The man you contacted before may be here again. It will be easier if your appearance is familiar, won't it?"
Draco scowled, though it was mostly for show. He'd sent Harry a text message on Heather's phone as soon as he'd learned about the meeting, but he didn't know if Harry would be there. He'd hoped he could at least remain male, since transforming into Heather brought a bit of baggage with it now.
He took the vial and raised it in a mock toast before downing it.
Ten minutes later, he was standing in the back of the dark pub, scanning the crowd. He didn't know if Harry was here, or even if he would disguise himself in the same way as before. He saw many familiar faces in the crowd, some of whom stared back at him as if they had never seen such a beautiful woman before. He leaned against the wall and pulled his hood down over his face, grateful to have a robe to hide in this time.
Lucius had made a short speech appealing for continued support and was now moving between groups of people, speaking quietly. Draco scanned the group he was currently addressing, and realized with a start that Harry was one of them. At least, it looked like the same man Harry had disguised himself as before.
Lucius's eyes caught his and Draco managed a sly smile. Lucius indicated Harry with a slight nod before moving on to the next table. Draco felt an odd twist in his belly -- the look Lucius had just given him seemed a bit too smug, almost as if… Draco shook the thought away and crossed the room. He bumped the man he hoped was Harry as he passed, purred an apology, and walked towards the toilets. He pushed open the door to the ladies' toilet and stepped inside.
And gaped. It had to be one of the nicest toilets he'd ever been in. The room had been magically enlarged to add a spacious seating area with several comfortable sofas and small tables, each with a tea service. Vanity tables lined the walls, complete with mirrors and cosmetics, and a fire crackled in a large stone fireplace. To the right was a long corridor with a series of ornate doors leading to what he assumed were the toilets themselves.
A knock on the door interrupted the visual tour. He opened it to see the man-who-might-be-Harry peering at him. "This is the ladies' room!" he whispered, just in case.
"Then what are you doing in here?" the man replied in Harry's voice.
Draco grinned and stepped back. Harry glanced around to ensure no one was watching before stepping inside.
Draco tugged him towards the corridor. "We should probably duck into one of these."
"Holy fuck," Harry muttered, staring around the room. "Is this typical for a women's toilet?"
Draco frowned at him. "What are you asking me for?" He pushed open the door of the third stall, and they both stared into it. It was much larger than it should have been, with a stylish toilet on the far end, flanked by a large marble sink. Near the door was an inviting sofa.
"This isn't fair, you know," Harry said as they stepped inside. "I've been in the men's toilet and it's completely disgusting." He whispered a few words and his disguise fell away.
Draco cast a locking charm and a silencing spell on the door, then checked the room for surveillance. "Clear," he said, then turned and found himself in Harry's arms with his capacity for speech temporarily blocked. A moment later, he was on the sofa and on Harry's lap, being held down by hands that felt much larger on his body than they did ordinarily. A strange sensation filled his chest, and he pushed away from Harry as hard as he could, nearly falling off his lap in the process.
"What?" Harry asked, concerned. "What's wrong?"
Draco stared back at him. He didn't know why he'd done that; he'd just felt panicked for some reason. "Sorry," he said, sliding closer again. "You just… caught me by surprise."
"I can't help myself," Harry grinned, one hand sliding to cup Draco's arse. "You have no idea how much I've been thinking about this."
"About what?" Draco asked, eyes narrowing.
Harry seemed to realize his mistake. "You," he said, now a bit anxious. "I miss you. I'm so horny I'm going insane, you know."
"And this is what does it for you, then?" Draco retorted. He folded his arms across his chest, but Heather's large breasts got in the way. He looked down at them and scowled.
"No," Harry replied in a soothing tone. "It's you I want, you know. Regardless of the way you're packaged."
Draco gave him a scathing look and slid off his lap to sit next to him on the sofa. "Maybe we should get on to business?"
"Right," Harry sighed, frowning. "Did you talk to Snape?"
"Yes," Draco replied. "But he doesn't know anything about perfidio. He wasn't even sure it was a potion." He told Harry about the other things Snape had said about the aftermath of the incident and his efforts to recover Harry's memory.
"I remember that," Harry nodded. "I wasn't very nice to him about it."
"When were you ever?" Draco quipped, but Harry ignored it.
"I'm afraid I've learned nothing new myself. Except…" Harry cast a sidelong glance at Draco and blushed. "This is going to sound very strange, but I've been having these dreams."
"Dreams?" Draco repeated, surprised.
"Yes, I know, but hear me out," Harry said, blushing a little more. "I know dreams are unreliable, but I've been having a recurring dream about Ron for a long time now, maybe a year. I remember a little more of it every time, or it gets further along every time, at least. I'm walking around Hogwarts, but it's empty. I'm desperately looking for something, and then I turn a corner and Ron is there." Harry paused to run a hand through his hair, avoiding Draco's gaze. "He tells me he's sorry for something, and then we start to talk. It gets fuzzy after that, because we talk about nonsensical things, like keys and pirates and--"
"Keys?" Draco asked. His heart pounded in his chest.
"Yes," Harry replied. "It seems very important to him, but I don't know what he's talking about."
"There are three keys," Draco said, the words spilling out of him, nearly from his subconscious. "We each had one. He said it was my doing."
Harry stared at him. "What?"
"I have dreams like that too," Draco said, "but I always thought it was just a guilty conscience. I've been having recurring dreams for about a year, though they've changed a lot lately, and Ron is there." And Lucius, of course. He wondered if that was important.
Harry had paled considerably. "Oh, god, it must mean something that we're having the same dream!"
"Not exactly the same," Draco said, and told Harry as much as he could remember.
Harry sank into the couch, still looking stunned. "Well, there must be a connection between the three keys and the triple perfidio. We just have to find it."
"He said you had one of the keys, I'm sure," Draco said, settling against him. Heather's long hair got caught behind his back uncomfortably, and he tugged it out of the way. "But that could mean anything. It could be a metaphor, you know, or even some special password we don't remember."
Harry shook his head. "I think it's something physical. Why else would he say I've got one if it isn't something…" He stared down at the ring on his right hand.
"It's possible," Draco breathed, catching on at the same moment. "It would explain why you have it, certainly."
"Maybe," Harry nodded. "But what about the other keys? He didn't say anything about those."
"Except that we have to find them."
"This is pointless unless we learn more about this spell, or potion, or about whatever it was we did." Harry twisted the ring on his finger, then looked up at Draco. "How much time have you got?"
Draco glanced at the watch he'd transfigured from his mother's bracelet. Having a watch had been so convenient he hadn't bothered to change it back yet. "Not long. I should probably get going." He stood and held out a hand to help Harry to his feet.
Harry smiled and took it, but when Draco tugged, Harry jerked Draco back onto his lap in a clean movement. Draco suppressed the urge to scowl -- he wasn't used to being in such a small body that could be pushed around so easily.
"Do you have a couple of minutes, at least?" Harry whispered, pulling him down for a kiss. "I can't be the only one who's getting tired of wanking in the shower."
Draco tried to smile, but the situation made him feel acutely uneasy. Harry shifted him on his lap and he felt his thigh brush against Harry's developing erection.
And all he could think of at that moment was being in Lucius's lap in the car two days before, with his hand being pressed against his father's stiff cock through his trousers.
Draco's smile faltered and he pushed away. "I'm sorry. I've been gone too long as it is. He'll be suspicious."
Harry looked disappointed, but he smiled. "I guess it's extra motivation to get this done," he said as Draco stood.
"Yeah," Draco replied. He felt queasy, and he hoped it didn't show.
Harry stood and kissed him, then muttered a series of spells. A moment later, the impenetrable glamour charm was back in place.
"You've got to show me how to do that," Draco said.
"Next time," Harry said. He cast a finite at the door and opened it, and then disappeared into the corridor.
Draco waited several minutes before following. The pub was still full of people, so it was easy to disappear into the crowd unnoticed. He milled about a few more minutes, then checked his watch. His time was nearly up. He started for the men's room, where he was sure he could have a bit of privacy to change back.
His arm was caught in a tight grip and pulled in another direction, though. Lucius dragged him into the pub's kitchen, locking the doors with a wave of his hand.
"Well?" he asked, an annoyed expression on his face.
Draco blinked at him in response. He had no idea what Lucius was asking for.
"You're quite a sight, you know," Lucius hissed. "And you were gone for longer than you should have been. You must be more careful."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco retorted, trying to twist out of Lucius's grip.
But Lucius grasped him hard enough to leave bruises. "I'm not stupid, Draco. I know who that man was, and I've allowed you to meet with him. But casting silencing spells and returning looking as if you've had a tryst in a darkened corner is pushing my patience too far."
Draco clenched his jaw and stared back defiantly. "You told me to do whatever I needed to do, didn't you? Heather's rather attractive, after all. It's been quite useful."
"And it doesn't bother you that Mr. Potter finds her so attractive?" Lucius sneered.
Draco felt the blood drain from his face. There was nothing he could say to that, no possibility for denial now.
Lucius shook his head. "I've known who he was all along," Lucius spat. "My spies are quite good, you know. I expected you to be working towards recovering your memory with him, and instead you're--" Lucius stopped and grew very pale. He was staring down at Draco's hand.
Draco held his breath, not wanting this next part to happen as he knew it would.
"You…" Lucius seized his wrist and glared at the bracelet-watch, as if it were the object of his anger. He seemed unable to meet Draco's eyes and he said nothing more. But the look on his face told Draco precisely what was going through his mind.
"Yes," Draco whispered, pulling his hand from his father's slackened grasp. "It was me in the car that day, not her. How does it feel to know you've molested your own son?"
Lucius looked appropriately horrified. He opened his mouth but said nothing.
"And I'll bet you enjoyed it," Draco said, stepping toward him. "I even made you come, didn't I? You whispered exactly what you wanted in my ear and put my hand right where you needed it." Lucius was still frozen, still staring at Draco's wrist. It was surprisingly easy to say these words, despite the fact that he'd been unable to think about what had happened. "It's hard to imagine you couldn't tell it wasn't her. Or maybe you just didn't care."
Lucius's eyes snapped up to his then, face contorted with rage. "You perverted, disgusting--"
But Lucius didn't get a chance to finish the phrase. A loud sound and a bright light tore through the wall from the pub, blowing debris past them. Draco was knocked against the far wall along with it. Blinding pain overwhelmed him and he shouted, but he couldn't hear his own voice. He couldn't see, couldn't breathe.
The world faded away.
+++++
Go to next part
Note: I've been travelling a lot lately, so I haven't been able to respond to all comments. Please know that I appreciate them, though!
ETA: I increased the size of the font in the first section. Hopefully it's more legible now?
Title: Surrender the Grey
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco Malfoy returns to London after five years of self-imposed exile to start a new life with Harry. But will the secrets of the past destroy everything they've worked for?
Sequel to: Left My Heart. This will make much more sense if you have read that first!
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no copyright violation intended.
Length: 150,000 words
Status: COMPLETED November 2, 2005 (Posted March 2 - November 2, 2005)
Notes:
1. Please don't archive this story yet! This is the first draft, and in the next few months, it will be revised and edited. I'll post the final version on my website and a few other select archives, but in the meantime, feel free to link to this post.
2. There aren't enough words to say THANK YOU to
jedirita, hazelhawthorne, and charlotteschaos for beta-ing this story! These are some of the hardest-working betas out there, and they deserve lots of snaps for putting up with me for eight months.3. Even though the backstory of this fic only assumes canon up through Order of the Phoenix, I stole a few cool ideas from Half Blood Prince. Cause they were cooler than mine...
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18
(19)
Harry had double-encrypted the letter, first with his own private code and then with Draco's public code. To decrypt it, Draco had to reverse the process. He cast the spells one after the other, and the letters rearranged themselves on the page before his eyes. He settled back against the door and began reading.
Draco, Harry began, you have no idea how happy I was to find you at last. There are so many things I need to tell you, and I suppose it's good that I'm writing them down. It's easier than talking, sometimes.
Draco smiled -- he knew exactly what Harry meant. They'd been crossing wires enough lately as it was. For some reason, being around Harry could make Draco a bit irrational.
Harry explained that he'd been following several leads ever since it had become clear to him who was sustaining the smothering spell at the Ministry. He'd brought up the idea of shutting it down at a meeting more than a week before, but the others had objected. Including you, I know, and I do understand your reasons -- but for me, it was very important to learn more. Draco understood that feeling all too well.
Harry went on to explain that he'd learned it was Arnold Bass himself who was responsible for the smothering spell. Draco had to put the parchment down and pace the room at this news. He should have known, he thought, after the way Bass had been behaving. Always quiet, always hovering in the background, not drawing attention to himself. And then there'd been that very odd meeting Draco'd had with him the morning before he was arrested.
Draco picked the parchment up again and picked up where he'd left off. Harry had confronted Bass two weeks earlier, and Bass had told him it was for the good of everyone that the truth of what happened not be learned until it was time.
I asked how he knew when the time was right, and he said the strangest thing. He said, "You'll tell me." And I think I stared back at him for the longest time, and he just stood there and smiled. Then I asked him why he cast the spell in the first place, and he said -- and I'll never forget the look on his face when he said it -- "Because the Minister for Magic asked me to, Harry." So apparently Fallin is responsible for the smothering spell? Frankly, I've never thought him quite that bright.
Draco filed that bit of information away to stew over, along with everything else that had been revealed to him in the last few days. The pieces were all starting to fit together in a sort of blurry image. He just couldn't yet get a view of the entire picture.
He scanned Harry's confessions about his other activities -- Death Eaters he'd been in contact with, meetings he'd attended, several of which Draco had been present at as well.
You're probably wondering why I didn't say anything to you about those meetings. I was embarrassed, to be honest, that if I did tell you you'd wonder why I was there. It seems strange now, of course, but at the time, you seemed so in control of everything, and I thought that my presence there would just complicate things up for you. I was afraid you'd think I was spying on you.
Harry went on to explain how he'd felt increasingly guilty until the night they'd had their big fight, and he'd decided that he needed to make a bold gesture. When Draco had rejected his offer to move in, he'd been certain Draco knew he'd been less than honest.
Draco closed his eyes and sighed. He wondered how things would have been different had he accepted Harry's offer that night. How ironic that he'd said no for the same reason Harry had made the offer in the first place.
A knock on the door interrupted his reading. He stashed the parchment under his bed and opened the door. Heather was standing on the other side, looking furious. She stalked past him into the room.
"What the fuck is this?" she hissed, shaking the strappy dress he'd bought for her in the village.
Draco couldn't help but grin. "That's a rhetorical question, isn't it?"
She held the dress up to her body and glared at him. "I was hoping for something I could at least wear in public, you know. But this is…" She made a vague gesture with one hand, as if groping in the air for words.
"Look," Draco said, trying his best to sound soothing, "he loved it. He can't wait to see you in it."
"That's the problem!" she spat, shaking the dress again. "You have no idea what he's like in bed."
Draco winced -- he had more of an idea than he ought to.
"If I can't walk tomorrow, it'll be your fault!" She jabbed an acrylic-tipped nail into his chest. "And trust me, I know how to hold a grudge."
Draco blew out a breath. "Oh, come on -- I thought you'd…" He paused as an idea stuck him. He retrieved his wand from where he'd left it on the bed and accio'd the curtain ties from the far window. With a flick of his wand, he transfigured them into two pairs of Muggle handcuffs. Her eyes widened comically when he handed them to her.
"Do I really have to explain?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She gaped at him in response.
"Be strong," he said, turning her by the shoulders and steering her towards the door. "Dominating. You know... make him your bitch." A strangled sound between a sob and a laugh emerged from her still-gaping mouth. Draco pushed her through the open door. "And have fun. He'll love it."
He shut the door, leaving her standing in the corridor with a strange expression on her face. Had he really just given her advice about how to please his own father in bed? Draco shook his head to clear it and settled on the bed with Harry's letter.
So I overreacted, to be honest. I asked you to leave, and then I regretted it almost instantly. The following night, I had resolved to tell you everything, for better or worse.
Draco had to scan backwards to remember where he was in the timeline. Ah yes, the night they were to meet at Mela. Harry explained that he'd waited an hour that night, and when Draco hadn't shown up he'd feared the worst. He had contacted several people he knew in the Ministry, who knew nothing. He'd finally contacted Cho. After a tense conversation, she'd confirmed that Draco had been arrested. From Harry's description, it sounded as if they'd had a stunning row. In the end, Harry had decided it was best if he didn't interfere.
Everyone else was livid, thinking you had betrayed us all -- I've never seen Manny so angry -- but I couldn't tell them then, not in front of Aurors, that I knew what you'd been doing. I had a conversation with Tonks in private, and she told me that the two of you had been working together. She felt terrible about everything, and wanted to help. I had no pull left with the Ministry anymore, at least not with anyone who could make a difference. I suggested Tonks tell your assistant. I had remembered that she was in Slytherin and -- forgive the stereotype -- I thought she might have the best connections to someone who could help get you out. And to be honest, I knew it would probably be Lucius. I'm sorry about that, for what it's worth.
Draco couldn't help but smile. He knew how much Harry loathed his father. He wondered if Harry knew he'd been exchanging owls with Lucius for nearly a week before he was arrested. He'd forgotten to put that little detail in his own letter.
After Draco escaped, Harry had confessed everything to Hermione and Manny. They were both angry with him for a few days, during which time the story hit the papers and he'd gone into hiding to escape the media attention. He had then focused his attention on finding Draco and working on a plan for contacting him. Hermione came around at last and filled Harry in on what she'd learned about Ron's research.
She doesn't know what to think about what happened to Ron, but she agrees with me that it's difficult to imagine that you cast the spell that killed him. Manny says it's just what we want to believe, but to be perfectly honest, we're both waiting to find out what really happened.
Draco closed his eyes for a moment as anxiety washed over him yet again. He'd lost Manny forever, it seemed, and that knowledge was more painful than he could have anticipated. What would happen if he lost Harry as well? There was nothing he could do about it now, of course. Best to let it lie until he had to face it.
After a good deal of wheedling, Hermione had finally agreed to give Harry access to Ron's work. It had not proved terribly illuminating, but there was a single page at the very end of the log that had written on it only the words triple perfidio.
Draco repeated the words a few times. It didn't sound like a potion. And what did "triple" refer to? There had apparently been three of them involved, but could it be that simple? Maybe it didn't mean anything at all.
Draco re-encrypted the pages and settled back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
+++++
An hour after dinner, Draco was summoned to the main parlor by a scowling house-elf. He paused before the mirror to give his hair an artful ruffle before leaving the room. The house-elf muttered something under its breath and disappeared, having completed its task to fetch him.
He walked downstairs and paused outside the parlor's double doors to listen for a moment.
"--and I don't like it, Malfoy," a man's voice said. "I don't understand how you've managed to get this far."
"The situation is not nearly as dire as you seem to think," Lucius said. Draco could hear the forced smile in his voice. "Cognac?"
Draco stepped around the corner, a sly smile plastered on his face. "Good evening," he said.
The man who'd been speaking turned to look at him. He was older than Lucius, though he looked as if he took great pride in maintaining as youthful an appearance as possible. His robes were fashionable in that way that screamed mid-life crisis, and he had spelled his hair into a fairly obvious comb-over. Draco watched the man's eyes slide over his body and up again, only to dart away when Draco's met them. Draco allowed himself a small smirk. He shifted his glance to the figure standing behind the man, the reason Draco had been summoned here tonight.
Colby Hannick almost blended into the woodwork. He was dressed simply but provocatively in clingy black Muggle clothing; he was clearly meant to be seen and not heard. His posture indicated he understood his position. He kept his eyes down, and didn't acknowledge Draco at all.
"Rodolfus, may I present my son, Draco," Lucius said, watching the man's face. "Draco, this is Rodolfus Abernathy, an old acquaintance of mine."
Draco walked four steps into the room, feeling the weight of Abernathy's gaze. "Pleasure," he said, careful not to look at Colby at all.
"Indeed," Abernathy replied. He took a generous sip of cognac, keeping his eyes on Draco. Draco kept smiling, despite an overwhelming urge to go wash himself off.
"Rodolfus and I have much to discuss," Lucius continued. "Draco, would you see that his companion is made comfortable?"
Draco let his eyes shift to Colby then. Colby seemed to shrink before him, and still didn't look up. The mousy persona he displayed here was such a far cry from his obnoxious prattling several nights before that it took Draco by surprise. He hadn't known Colby was this good.
"Yes, father," he said, letting his gaze turn hungry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Abernathy stiffen. "Come with me, boy," he said. Colby nodded and crossed to him, looking more than a little reluctant to leave Abernathy's side. Draco smirked at Abernathy, who returned a mild glare.
Lucius nodded at Draco as he steered Colby out of the room. Lucius had arranged this meeting with the intention of getting information about Abernathy out of Colby, and he'd given that task to Draco. It had turned out to be fortuitous for Draco as well.
They were barely out of earshot before Colby heaved a huge sigh. Draco glanced over to see a grim expression settle on his face. Colby straightened up, seeming to grow a few inches, but he kept his eyes straight ahead. "Malfoy, at last."
Draco didn't reply. He led Colby up a flight of stairs and down a corridor to the room where he and Abernathy would be spending the night. It was a large suite, larger than the room Draco stayed in. The focal point of the room was an enormous bed, lavishly decorated with a frilly duvet and pillows.
"Get comfortable," Draco quipped as the door closed behind them. "But then, I suppose there are worse places to be on your back."
"Fuck you," Colby hissed, stepping past him and surveying the room. "What the hell is this place, anyway, a hotel?"
Draco shrugged. Heather had once suggested that the castle was a Muggle bed and breakfast before Lucius acquired it. Draco had never asked his father about it.
Colby turned to look at him as if expecting him to speak -- and so Draco stepped forward and kissed him. He could feel Colby stiffen in surprise.
"Surveillance," Draco whispered, nuzzling his cheek.
"I wondered why you hadn't decked me yet," Colby replied, voice more breathy than it had been a moment before. "Not that I'm complaining." He leaned forward and clamped his open mouth over Draco's with enthusiasm.
Draco pushed, walking him backwards towards the bathroom. He'd forgotten what an atrocious kisser Colby was: what he lacked in technique he tried to make up for with sheer quantity of tongue.
Draco had cased the room earlier that evening and determined that the bathroom was the safest place to talk freely. He'd even cast a silencing spell around it in advance. Once they were inside, Draco spun Colby around and pressed him against the closed door. He stepped back and cast a quick binding spell, fixing his arms to the door at his sides.
Colby's face split into a grin. "That a wand in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"
Draco responded by punching him in the stomach. Colby collapsed forward, hanging from the door by his arms and gasping for breath.
"That's for almost getting Harry killed," Draco spat, rubbing his fist. "Go near him again and I'll remove a favored bit of your anatomy."
"Fucking hell…" Colby groaned, still nearly on the floor. "Give me a break, all right? I didn't know."
"Didn't know Lucius intended to harm him? You may be a Muggle, but you aren't that stupid, Hannick."
"I'm sorry, okay?" Colby coughed. He managed to look up at Draco from his awkward position. "Do you think I had a choice?"
"You always have a choice," Draco replied, stepping back, making it clear he wasn't going to help Colby to his feet.
"Look, I fucked up, and no one has paid the price more than I have." Colby shifted and managed to get his knees under him. "I'd give anything to go back and change it all, everything from the first moment Lucius offered me a job. I had no idea I'd wind up…" He trailed off and winced, hunching over.
"A sex slave?" Draco finished. "Funny, it seems to be something you're quite good at."
"I can't afford to be bad at it," Colby mumbled. "I came here to ask for your help, all right? I know we've had our difficulties, but--"
"You want my help?" Draco snorted. "What in hell makes you think I would do anything for you, after everything you've done?"
Colby managed to straighten up again. "I was hoping we could help each other. I realize I don't have much to offer, but believe me, I'll do anything. I can't..." He shook his head and looked away. "I can't live like this."
"Some might say you got what you deserved," Draco said.
Colby laughed, the sound humorless and pathetic. "No one deserves this."
Draco pursed his lips. Colby seemed desperate, and that made him a bit more trustworthy than he'd ever been before. They could probably get information from Colby, at the very least.
"Tell me everything you've seen and heard in the last few weeks," Draco said. "And perhaps then I'll consider helping you."
"Everything?" Colby asked. "That'll take a while."
"What, have you got someplace to be?" Draco snorted, sitting on the toilet lid. "And don't bother lying -- I'll know."
Colby spent the next twenty minutes detailing what had happened to him since Lucius had taken him from San Francisco and forced him into service. Colby's task was to seduce the men Lucius assigned him to. Sometimes he was given to people as a reward for something they'd done. At other times, his job was to ensure the person wound up in a compromising position, so that Lucius could exploit them.
Draco listened, forcing himself to watch Colby's face, read his body language. It could very well have been him in that position. More than five years ago, Lucius had found him in London. He'd run away after his eighteenth birthday, and with no future in the Wizarding World to speak of, he'd promptly blown through all of his money partying. He'd stepped out of a dance club one night, high on a mix of coke and ecstasy, and was sucking off a hot bloke in an alley when someone apparated behind him and knocked him unconscious. He'd awakened at the Manor, with Lucius ranting at him: If you're determined to behave like a common whore, you can do it in the service of the Dark Lord!
Lucius's threat had cut through the haze of drugs, sex, and self-destruction he'd been living in for months. Draco knew he was serious, and he also knew that Lucius had no regard for him. As soon as an opportunity to escape presented itself, he had headed straight for the Ministry of Magic and appealed for amnesty. They hadn't known what to make of him, and after a few days of keeping him under observation, Severus Snape himself had shown up. He'd vouched for Draco personally, to Draco's surprise, and convinced the Ministry to allow him into the Auror training program.
Even more of a surprise, they had consented, despite the fact that Draco wasn't technically qualified -- he'd always suspected his NEWT results had been bought by Lucius; he couldn't possibly have done that well. He went into the program reluctantly, knowing no one thought he deserved to be there. It was a long, uncomfortable, lonely eight months, but it was a better fate than the one his father had intended for him. The one Colby was now trapped in.
Colby told him whom he'd been involved with, and what Lucius had wanted from each of the targets. He avoided personal details of what it had taken to get some of that information. Draco didn't ask him to elaborate.
"Why haven't you tried to escape?" Draco asked when Colby finally fell silent.
"I did," Colby replied, voice small. He paused for a moment and his eyes glazed over. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have sex used as a weapon against you?"
"Yes," Draco replied before he could stop himself. He frowned, but there was no taking it back. He looked down to see Colby's brown eyes staring up at him. "Unfortunately."
"At least Heather doesn't remember. My punishment is that I do." Colby stared into space for a moment. He seemed to be on the verge of breaking down. He closed his eyes, and then opened them again. "I know you have no reason to, but will you help me?"
Draco wasn't much of a Legilimens, but it was easier with Muggles than with wizards. There was nothing but desperation and fear in Colby's thoughts. Draco's eyes narrowed. "You must do something for me first, to prove that I can trust you. If you do, I promise I will help you."
"And Heather?" Colby pressed.
Draco was surprised -- the Colby he remembered was only out for himself. "Are you sure she wants rescuing?"
Colby nodded. "I can't leave her here. It's all my fault she's in this mess."
Draco nodded and released the binding spell with a wave of his hand. Colby collapsed to the floor, heaving a sigh of relief.
"Now, listen carefully," Draco said, standing over him. "There is something I want you to do."
+++++
Cold, rough brick pressed into Draco's back, but it was nothing compared to the hand clamped around his throat. Weasley's angry face loomed over his, the only thing in his field of vision.
"This was your doing," he growled, punctuating the word your with an extra squeeze of Draco's throat. "You must fix it."
Draco opened his mouth and managed to squeak out a sound of protest.
"We each had a key," Weasley said. "Harry holds one. Find the others."
Draco nodded. He was starting to see stars.
"Do you understand me?" Weasley asked, his face a strange mix of anger and concern. "You must find those keys."
He released Draco suddenly, stepping back. Draco stared at him, watching his freckled face grow pale. He rubbed at his throat. "Keys," he managed, though he sounded as if he had laryngitis.
"And blood," Weasley whispered, beginning to fade away. Draco could see a shadowy figure through him, standing across the alley. "There's blood," he repeated, and then he was gone.
Across the alley stood Lucius, staring at Draco. He rubbed at his sore throat again.
+++++
Friday, 12 March, 2004
It was mid-afternoon when Draco stepped out of the fireplace and into the headmaster's office. Snape wasn't there, so Draco settled himself into a chair across from his desk.
Lucius had almost seemed pleased when Draco had requested an opportunity to meet with Snape that morning. Draco had insisted on going to the Headmaster rather than inviting him to the castle, so Lucius had convinced the man to open the floo temporarily.
"Mister Malfoy," a familiar voice said.
Draco turned to see a portrait of Albus Dumbledore beaming at him. "Professor… sir," he managed, surprised.
"It's good to see you again. I trust Harry is well?"
Draco gaped. How could a portrait know anything about his love life? "As well as… can be expected, under the circumstances," he replied. "I suppose."
"And you?"
Draco shrugged in response. Dumbledore had barely said a dozen words to him when he'd been a student here. It seemed odd to be conversing with an image of him now.
Fortunately, Snape entered the room at that moment, saving Draco from further small talk. He sat behind the large desk, a familiar scowl on his face.
"Well? What was so urgent that it required I cancel a staff meeting to see you -- an escaped fugitive, no less?"
Draco swallowed. "I… Sorry." He had planned to start this conversation by telling Snape how much he had appreciated him intervening with the Ministry years ago. Snape raised an eyebrow at him, and Draco decided to plow ahead with the real reason for the visit. "I'll get to the point, then. Have you ever heard of a potion called perfidio?"
"No." Snape pursed his lips. "Are you certain there is such a potion?"
"No, but I know that I was making a potion just before… three years ago, and the word perfidio has come up in our research."
Snape sighed and leaned forward over the desk. "You are just as stubborn a man as you were a child. You ought to have taken my advice about this matter."
"It's too late now," Draco replied. "And why are so many people interested in keeping what happened a secret?"
"Everyone except you, Mr. Potter, and your father, you'll note," Snape replied. "Shouldn't that tell you something?"
Draco sighed and sunk into his chair. "I'm asking you as a personal favor, Headmaster. I know you owe me nothing, but… We will find out what happened. We're getting very close. If you have any information that would help, we'd be grateful."
"We?" Snape repeated.
"Harry and I." Draco said. "Lucius won't learn more than I tell him."
Snape sneered. "Surely you've learned not to underestimate your father. I suspect he knows much more than you think."
Draco shrugged, but he couldn't ignore the twist of anxiety in his belly.
Snape waved his hand and the tea set on the desk began to steam. The pot poured two cups, then nudged one of them towards Draco. Snape picked up the other and sighed. "You know of the plot to contain the Dark Lord?"
"Yes," Draco replied. "Lucius told me it was your idea to collaborate with the Ministry."
Snape nodded. "After Dumbledore's death, it seemed the only way. I knew they would bring Potter in, and despite my personal differences with him, I did believe him the only one capable of getting the job done."
Draco resisted the urge to smile, and sipped his tea instead.
"I know nothing of what happened between the time Potter was brought in and the Dark Lord disappeared. But afterwards, Lucius requested my help. He had sent you away amid rumbles about your responsibility for Ron Weasley's death, and he told me that neither you nor Potter had any memory of what had happened. I went to St. Mungo's to interrogate Potter myself, but…" Snape paused to sip his tea. "It was as if the memory had been locked away. There was nothing I could do to uncover it, and I suspected that you and he had cast some sort of memory charm on each other."
"But memory charms remove memories," Draco said. "If we had wanted to forget, we could have done that, but the fact that we didn't must mean we intended to remember. We didn't want it to remain a secret forever."
"Perhaps," Snape replied. "Lucius was livid, of course, because the plan had entailed containing the Dark Lord, to use him as a source of power. But there was no trace of him. No one knew if he had been destroyed. And those of us who had been involved in the conspiracy were left with the unsettling knowledge that if those faithful to the Dark Lord learned we'd been involved…" He trailed off and cast a glare at one of the portraits on the wall, which had started mumbling under its breath.
"But that's happening now, isn't it?" Draco asked. "They're more and more suspicious, and Lucius is losing his supporters." He leaned forward, placing his teacup on the desk. "If we don't find out what happened, there will be a war."
"And if you do find out what happened," Snape retorted, "will the outcome be different?"
Draco leaned back in his chair again. He had no answer for that.
Snape stood, shaking out his robes. "I will look through my personal library. If I learn anything about this perfidio, I will let you know."
"Thank you," Draco replied, standing. "And sir… thank you for--"
"I'm very busy," Snape interrupted. "My apologies." He gestured toward the fireplace.
+++++
"Not again," Draco groaned. "Can't I go as someone else?"
Lucius held the vial of polyjuice potion out again, an expression of impatience on his face. "The man you contacted before may be here again. It will be easier if your appearance is familiar, won't it?"
Draco scowled, though it was mostly for show. He'd sent Harry a text message on Heather's phone as soon as he'd learned about the meeting, but he didn't know if Harry would be there. He'd hoped he could at least remain male, since transforming into Heather brought a bit of baggage with it now.
He took the vial and raised it in a mock toast before downing it.
Ten minutes later, he was standing in the back of the dark pub, scanning the crowd. He didn't know if Harry was here, or even if he would disguise himself in the same way as before. He saw many familiar faces in the crowd, some of whom stared back at him as if they had never seen such a beautiful woman before. He leaned against the wall and pulled his hood down over his face, grateful to have a robe to hide in this time.
Lucius had made a short speech appealing for continued support and was now moving between groups of people, speaking quietly. Draco scanned the group he was currently addressing, and realized with a start that Harry was one of them. At least, it looked like the same man Harry had disguised himself as before.
Lucius's eyes caught his and Draco managed a sly smile. Lucius indicated Harry with a slight nod before moving on to the next table. Draco felt an odd twist in his belly -- the look Lucius had just given him seemed a bit too smug, almost as if… Draco shook the thought away and crossed the room. He bumped the man he hoped was Harry as he passed, purred an apology, and walked towards the toilets. He pushed open the door to the ladies' toilet and stepped inside.
And gaped. It had to be one of the nicest toilets he'd ever been in. The room had been magically enlarged to add a spacious seating area with several comfortable sofas and small tables, each with a tea service. Vanity tables lined the walls, complete with mirrors and cosmetics, and a fire crackled in a large stone fireplace. To the right was a long corridor with a series of ornate doors leading to what he assumed were the toilets themselves.
A knock on the door interrupted the visual tour. He opened it to see the man-who-might-be-Harry peering at him. "This is the ladies' room!" he whispered, just in case.
"Then what are you doing in here?" the man replied in Harry's voice.
Draco grinned and stepped back. Harry glanced around to ensure no one was watching before stepping inside.
Draco tugged him towards the corridor. "We should probably duck into one of these."
"Holy fuck," Harry muttered, staring around the room. "Is this typical for a women's toilet?"
Draco frowned at him. "What are you asking me for?" He pushed open the door of the third stall, and they both stared into it. It was much larger than it should have been, with a stylish toilet on the far end, flanked by a large marble sink. Near the door was an inviting sofa.
"This isn't fair, you know," Harry said as they stepped inside. "I've been in the men's toilet and it's completely disgusting." He whispered a few words and his disguise fell away.
Draco cast a locking charm and a silencing spell on the door, then checked the room for surveillance. "Clear," he said, then turned and found himself in Harry's arms with his capacity for speech temporarily blocked. A moment later, he was on the sofa and on Harry's lap, being held down by hands that felt much larger on his body than they did ordinarily. A strange sensation filled his chest, and he pushed away from Harry as hard as he could, nearly falling off his lap in the process.
"What?" Harry asked, concerned. "What's wrong?"
Draco stared back at him. He didn't know why he'd done that; he'd just felt panicked for some reason. "Sorry," he said, sliding closer again. "You just… caught me by surprise."
"I can't help myself," Harry grinned, one hand sliding to cup Draco's arse. "You have no idea how much I've been thinking about this."
"About what?" Draco asked, eyes narrowing.
Harry seemed to realize his mistake. "You," he said, now a bit anxious. "I miss you. I'm so horny I'm going insane, you know."
"And this is what does it for you, then?" Draco retorted. He folded his arms across his chest, but Heather's large breasts got in the way. He looked down at them and scowled.
"No," Harry replied in a soothing tone. "It's you I want, you know. Regardless of the way you're packaged."
Draco gave him a scathing look and slid off his lap to sit next to him on the sofa. "Maybe we should get on to business?"
"Right," Harry sighed, frowning. "Did you talk to Snape?"
"Yes," Draco replied. "But he doesn't know anything about perfidio. He wasn't even sure it was a potion." He told Harry about the other things Snape had said about the aftermath of the incident and his efforts to recover Harry's memory.
"I remember that," Harry nodded. "I wasn't very nice to him about it."
"When were you ever?" Draco quipped, but Harry ignored it.
"I'm afraid I've learned nothing new myself. Except…" Harry cast a sidelong glance at Draco and blushed. "This is going to sound very strange, but I've been having these dreams."
"Dreams?" Draco repeated, surprised.
"Yes, I know, but hear me out," Harry said, blushing a little more. "I know dreams are unreliable, but I've been having a recurring dream about Ron for a long time now, maybe a year. I remember a little more of it every time, or it gets further along every time, at least. I'm walking around Hogwarts, but it's empty. I'm desperately looking for something, and then I turn a corner and Ron is there." Harry paused to run a hand through his hair, avoiding Draco's gaze. "He tells me he's sorry for something, and then we start to talk. It gets fuzzy after that, because we talk about nonsensical things, like keys and pirates and--"
"Keys?" Draco asked. His heart pounded in his chest.
"Yes," Harry replied. "It seems very important to him, but I don't know what he's talking about."
"There are three keys," Draco said, the words spilling out of him, nearly from his subconscious. "We each had one. He said it was my doing."
Harry stared at him. "What?"
"I have dreams like that too," Draco said, "but I always thought it was just a guilty conscience. I've been having recurring dreams for about a year, though they've changed a lot lately, and Ron is there." And Lucius, of course. He wondered if that was important.
Harry had paled considerably. "Oh, god, it must mean something that we're having the same dream!"
"Not exactly the same," Draco said, and told Harry as much as he could remember.
Harry sank into the couch, still looking stunned. "Well, there must be a connection between the three keys and the triple perfidio. We just have to find it."
"He said you had one of the keys, I'm sure," Draco said, settling against him. Heather's long hair got caught behind his back uncomfortably, and he tugged it out of the way. "But that could mean anything. It could be a metaphor, you know, or even some special password we don't remember."
Harry shook his head. "I think it's something physical. Why else would he say I've got one if it isn't something…" He stared down at the ring on his right hand.
"It's possible," Draco breathed, catching on at the same moment. "It would explain why you have it, certainly."
"Maybe," Harry nodded. "But what about the other keys? He didn't say anything about those."
"Except that we have to find them."
"This is pointless unless we learn more about this spell, or potion, or about whatever it was we did." Harry twisted the ring on his finger, then looked up at Draco. "How much time have you got?"
Draco glanced at the watch he'd transfigured from his mother's bracelet. Having a watch had been so convenient he hadn't bothered to change it back yet. "Not long. I should probably get going." He stood and held out a hand to help Harry to his feet.
Harry smiled and took it, but when Draco tugged, Harry jerked Draco back onto his lap in a clean movement. Draco suppressed the urge to scowl -- he wasn't used to being in such a small body that could be pushed around so easily.
"Do you have a couple of minutes, at least?" Harry whispered, pulling him down for a kiss. "I can't be the only one who's getting tired of wanking in the shower."
Draco tried to smile, but the situation made him feel acutely uneasy. Harry shifted him on his lap and he felt his thigh brush against Harry's developing erection.
And all he could think of at that moment was being in Lucius's lap in the car two days before, with his hand being pressed against his father's stiff cock through his trousers.
Draco's smile faltered and he pushed away. "I'm sorry. I've been gone too long as it is. He'll be suspicious."
Harry looked disappointed, but he smiled. "I guess it's extra motivation to get this done," he said as Draco stood.
"Yeah," Draco replied. He felt queasy, and he hoped it didn't show.
Harry stood and kissed him, then muttered a series of spells. A moment later, the impenetrable glamour charm was back in place.
"You've got to show me how to do that," Draco said.
"Next time," Harry said. He cast a finite at the door and opened it, and then disappeared into the corridor.
Draco waited several minutes before following. The pub was still full of people, so it was easy to disappear into the crowd unnoticed. He milled about a few more minutes, then checked his watch. His time was nearly up. He started for the men's room, where he was sure he could have a bit of privacy to change back.
His arm was caught in a tight grip and pulled in another direction, though. Lucius dragged him into the pub's kitchen, locking the doors with a wave of his hand.
"Well?" he asked, an annoyed expression on his face.
Draco blinked at him in response. He had no idea what Lucius was asking for.
"You're quite a sight, you know," Lucius hissed. "And you were gone for longer than you should have been. You must be more careful."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco retorted, trying to twist out of Lucius's grip.
But Lucius grasped him hard enough to leave bruises. "I'm not stupid, Draco. I know who that man was, and I've allowed you to meet with him. But casting silencing spells and returning looking as if you've had a tryst in a darkened corner is pushing my patience too far."
Draco clenched his jaw and stared back defiantly. "You told me to do whatever I needed to do, didn't you? Heather's rather attractive, after all. It's been quite useful."
"And it doesn't bother you that Mr. Potter finds her so attractive?" Lucius sneered.
Draco felt the blood drain from his face. There was nothing he could say to that, no possibility for denial now.
Lucius shook his head. "I've known who he was all along," Lucius spat. "My spies are quite good, you know. I expected you to be working towards recovering your memory with him, and instead you're--" Lucius stopped and grew very pale. He was staring down at Draco's hand.
Draco held his breath, not wanting this next part to happen as he knew it would.
"You…" Lucius seized his wrist and glared at the bracelet-watch, as if it were the object of his anger. He seemed unable to meet Draco's eyes and he said nothing more. But the look on his face told Draco precisely what was going through his mind.
"Yes," Draco whispered, pulling his hand from his father's slackened grasp. "It was me in the car that day, not her. How does it feel to know you've molested your own son?"
Lucius looked appropriately horrified. He opened his mouth but said nothing.
"And I'll bet you enjoyed it," Draco said, stepping toward him. "I even made you come, didn't I? You whispered exactly what you wanted in my ear and put my hand right where you needed it." Lucius was still frozen, still staring at Draco's wrist. It was surprisingly easy to say these words, despite the fact that he'd been unable to think about what had happened. "It's hard to imagine you couldn't tell it wasn't her. Or maybe you just didn't care."
Lucius's eyes snapped up to his then, face contorted with rage. "You perverted, disgusting--"
But Lucius didn't get a chance to finish the phrase. A loud sound and a bright light tore through the wall from the pub, blowing debris past them. Draco was knocked against the far wall along with it. Blinding pain overwhelmed him and he shouted, but he couldn't hear his own voice. He couldn't see, couldn't breathe.
The world faded away.
+++++
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Note: I've been travelling a lot lately, so I haven't been able to respond to all comments. Please know that I appreciate them, though!
ETA: I increased the size of the font in the first section. Hopefully it's more legible now?
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Date: 2005-08-03 01:27 pm (UTC)I love your story, and I thought you should know that its what keeps me looking forward to Wednesday mornings. Keep up the good work!
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Date: 2005-08-03 08:34 pm (UTC)