FIC: Left My Heart (9/11)
Apr. 20th, 2004 08:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emmagrant01Note:This is the rough draft of this fic! Please go here for the final version.
Title: Left My Heart
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Please ask. Please also note that this is not the final version of this fic. I'll be revising it when this draft is finished. I don't mind if people archive it as a WIP, in the meantime.
Pairing: Harry/Draco (and some Harry/OMC)
Summary: Post-Hogwarts. Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to find him.
Warnings: WIP, though I update weekly.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, not making any money, no infringement intended.
Note 1: Set present day, February 2004. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jedirita, snowqueenofhoth, and wyoming_knott for the betas! I'm going to owe them big time when this is finished.
Note 2: *coughs* Um, 11 parts. Yeah. It was either that or part 10 would have been really, really long.
Feedback: Yes, please!!! Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to leave me such thoughtful comments. I'm completely floored by the response! I'll try very hard to reply to them all.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Where we left off last time:
Malfoy gazed up at him, expression unreadable. Harry swallowed, and tried not to feel guilty that he was more worried about whether or not Malfoy would shag him now than he was about his own safety.
Harry sighed, and forced himself to smile. "What do we do now?"
Malfoy pushed away from the door enough to open it. "How about a shower?" There was something almost shy about his manner, and it tugged at a place deep inside Harry. He could only nod in response.
He followed Malfoy into the bedroom and watched him strip out of his clothing layer by layer, holding Harry's gaze steadily all the while. Harry stood, mesmerized, as Malfoy pulled his shirt up over his head and then blew a few strands of hair out his face. Malfoy kept his eyes locked on Harry's as one hand trailed down his chest to unfasten the button of his jeans, and he didn't drop Harry's gaze when he bent over enough to push them past his knees and step out of them. More and more pale skin was bared until finally, Malfoy was standing naked before him.
Harry could hardly breathe. He was afraid to move or to speak at all, in case this really was a dream. Malfoy wasn't particularly modest, and certainly seemed unembarrassed by his nudity at the moment. Harry felt a stab of fear that this was an elaborate tease, and that Malfoy had no intention of making love to him at all. Malfoy turned away then, and stepped through the bathroom door. Harry hesitated a few seconds before pushing his sticky pyjama pants off and following.
Malfoy smiled over his shoulder at Harry just before he stepped under the spray. It seemed to be an invitation, so Harry followed. He stood at the side of the shower for nearly a minute, watching Malfoy tilt his head back under the water. Malfoy's eyes remained closed as he threaded long fingers through his red-streaked blonde hair. He pushed it back away from his face, reminding Harry of the way he'd worn it as a child, and then tilted his head back a bit further. Water trickled down his cheek, under his jaw, and down his throat.
Harry found himself torn between continuing to watch and joining in. At last, he lathered his hands and tentatively ran them over Malfoy's chest. Malfoy seemed startled, but allowed Harry to touch him freely. Harry's hands moved smoothly over soap-slicked angles of skin and muscle, lightly over spots where Malfoy seemed far too thin, and lingered in places he found intriguing. His hands slid down Malfoy's back, down to where his body curved just above the swell of his ass. Malfoy sucked in a breath when Harry's fingers delved into the cleft and teased at his opening before moving on again. Malfoy reached for the soap then, and tugged Harry under the shower as well.
Harry closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of slick fingers moving slowly over his chest, down his sides, tracing the length of his spine. He hadn't been touched this way by anyone in a long time, and he'd forgotten how vulnerable it made him feel. There was a part of him that wanted to push those hands away, before they made their way under his skin. He stayed still until he couldn't bear it anymore, and then kissed Malfoy instead.
They stood under the spray of the hot water for a long time after they'd rinsed all the soap away. Harry thought he might die from the slow slide of Malfoy's tongue against his, from the feeling of water dripping down their faces and into their open mouths, from the brush of hot lips against his own.
At last, Malfoy stepped back and turned the water off. He glanced down between them and grinned. "Is that for me?"
Harry took Malfoy's hand and wrapped it around his renewed erection. "You really need to ask?"
Malfoy pulled his hand away and passed Harry a towel. "We're going to do it properly this time. Lying down, on a bed."
Harry grinned and started drying himself off.
They managed to keep some distance between them for the few minutes it took to get mostly dry and into bed. Harry felt oddly embarrassed when Malfoy fumbled through a drawer and produced condom packets and a bottle of lube. He set them on the nightstand and turned to Harry. The expression on his face was guarded, and Harry couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
He reached out to trace a line of shadow down Malfoy's side. "You said before that you couldn't bear to make love to me. Are you sure about this?"
Malfoy nodded and moved closer, stretching out next to him. "I'll probably regret it, but... I think I'll regret it more if we don't." He kissed Harry's shoulder then, so tenderly Harry felt his throat tighten. "What about you? You said you weren't the sort for casual sex."
Too late to worry about that now, Harry thought as he pulled Malfoy closer. He was still hoping this encounter was far more than casual. He slid a knee between Malfoy's legs. "I assume we're safe here? From--" He paused, realizing he hadn't yet told Malfoy what he'd seen.
Malfoy kissed him, as if to stop him from saying any more. "We're safe," he whispered. "Everything else can wait for morning."
With that, he rolled onto his back, tugging Harry along with him. Harry smiled down at him, marveling at the feel of so much warm skin pressed against him for the first time in months. Malfoy was smiling -- beckoning, really -- and Harry couldn't resist dipping his head down for a kiss. Malfoy made a contented sound and shifted beneath him.
Harry forced himself to be patient. He didn't want to think this might be their only night together, but just in case, he wanted to make the most of it. He kissed Malfoy for a long time before leaving his mouth to pay attention to his neck and chest.
He'd never actually made love to a man, he realized. Not like this, at least: slow and careful, naked and vulnerable, and feeling so very much. He paused to look at each new patch of skin before he tasted it, to marvel at the fact that Malfoy's body wasn't as perfect as Harry had imagined -- and that he didn't care.
Actually, he liked the fact that Malfoy had a few ugly scars in places he usually kept covered by clothes, and that he had a large bruise on his side that looked to be a week old. He liked the fact that Malfoy was too skinny in some places and strangely muscular in others. He ran his fingertips over the wispy strands of blonde hair scattered across Malfoy's chest that made him look almost boyish compared to Harry. He kissed the freckles on Malfoy's shoulders, making a note to scold him for spending too much time in the sun, fair skin unprotected.
Malfoy sucked in his breath when Harry flicked his tongue across a rapidly hardening nipple. He squirmed until Harry bit -- and then he yelped. Harry glanced up, but Malfoy's eyes were closed. He moved to the other nipple, wondering if this was the sort of thing men did in bed. He had little more than his experience with women to go on, and he hoped it would be enough.
"I've never done this before, you know," he whispered against Malfoy's chest.
"Hunnhh?" Malfoy grunted in reply. Speaking seemed to require effort. "What about... Colby?"
Harry licked along a rib, one that seemed much too prominent. "That wasn't like this," he replied. "Standing up in a toilet is hardly an ideal sexual encounter." He pressed his nose into Malfoy's navel, and Malfoy giggled.
"Mmm, I suppose not."
Harry nipped at the line of fine blonde hair running from Malfoy's navel south, and his chin brushed Malfoy's cock.
Malfoy inhaled, and Harry propped himself up on an elbow and took a good look. He didn't have so much to compare it to, but Malfoy's erect penis seemed to be about average in size. It was smaller than Harry's, bigger than Colby's, and maybe even looked a bit larger than it would on someone of normal weight.
Malfoy made a frustrated sound above him. "I don't suppose you could speed things up a little?"
Harry leaned forward enough to plant a kiss at the juncture of hip and thigh. "In a hurry or something?"
"No, I'm just about to go mad, is all!" Malfoy's tone was light, and Harry had the feeling he really didn't mind at all.
Harry kept kissing and exploring -- hips, knees, and feet, and then kissed his way down the inside of one thigh. Malfoy made a whimpering sound when Harry's breath ghosted over his balls, and another one when Harry trailed the tip of his tongue up the underside of his cock.
Harry started to sit up, but Malfoy's knees closed around his ears. "No, no, don't stop! Please just...?"
Harry laughed and pressed the backs of Malfoy's thighs forward until his knees were touching his chest. "Haven't you heard of foreplay?"
Malfoy made a grumbling sound. "That's something girls fancy, isn't it? Along with chocolate and sappy films."
Harry grinned and slid down onto his belly. Malfoy's breathing sped up when he realized Harry was getting comfortable. Harry released his hold on Malfoy's thighs, and Malfoy's hands moved down to hold his own knees back. It was a position Harry had always loved to see a woman in -- holding herself open for him, trembling with need. He realized he liked to see a man that way just as much, even if the view was different.
He nuzzled Malfoy's balls with the tip of his nose, and then flicked his tongue over the skin just below. Malfoy stopped breathing for a moment, only to inhale sharply when Harry's tongue moved lower still.
"Oh god..." Malfoy mumbled.
Harry swirled his tongue around his entrance, and then pressed into Malfoy with the tip of his tongue, probing gently. Malfoy pulled his knees up harder and made an incoherent noise. Harry pushed in as far as he could, slowly fucking Malfoy with his tongue. He could feel Malfoy trembling, and he couldn't help but smile.
"Are you sure you haven't... done this before?"
"Girls have arseholes too, you know," Harry laughed. He flicked his tongue lightly across the hole before pressing in again.
"Not fair," Malfoy mumbled, and the mumble turned into a moan when Harry began small fast strokes, in and out.
He continued until his jaw began to ache from the effort, and then he licked his way back up to Malfoy's cock, not being so careful or gentle now. He took the leaking head into his mouth and sucked, trying to remember the movements of Malfoy's -- Colby's tongue on him the night before. Malfoy released his legs, hooking his knees over Harry's shoulders, and clenched his hands in the sheets on either side.
"Oh god... Harry stop, please..." Harry released him and looked up. A fine sheen of sweat covered Malfoy's chest, making him almost seem to sparkle in the dim light. "I don't want to come that fast," he panted.
Harry crawled forward, Malfoy's knees still over his shoulders, and smiled down at him. "What do you want, then?" Harry knew what he wanted.
Malfoy grinned. "I want you to fuck me. No, I need you to fuck me."
"Need?" Harry laughed. He thought about teasing Malfoy for his choice of words, but Malfoy was already reaching his hand out for a condom. He winked at Harry as he opened the package and rolled it on Harry's cock without even looking at what he was doing. Harry's eyes closed at the brief touch, and he began to wonder how long he could possibly last. He'd been fantasizing about fucking Malfoy for a while now, after all. The lube bottle was pressed into his hand then, and he blushed when he saw the amused smirk on Malfoy's face. He spread a copious amount of lube on his fingers and leaned forward enough to kiss Malfoy while he pushed one finger into him, and then another, moving slowly.
Malfoy's expression changed completely. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he whispered against Harry's lips. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
Harry's tongue traced Malfoy's lips, and he smiled. "I'm making this up as I go along." He removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock, pushing forward slowly, until he was sheathed in Malfoy's body entirely. He could feel Malfoy pushing back against him, willing his muscles to relax. Harry's instinct was to thrust, but he forced himself to stay still, and to be in the moment as completely as possible.
The moment of entry was always amazing for Harry, and this time was no exception. The sheer heat of another body engulfing the sensitive skin of his cock, the pressure, the sense of reaching inside another person -- he didn't know how people could give this away so easily, so casually. He had to close his eyes against the intensity of what he was feeling, lest it overwhelm him.
But then he opened his eyes again, and saw Malfoy's face. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was open, and his expression was somewhere between pain and pleasure, as far as Harry could tell. Malfoy's forehead wrinkled, and he exhaled slowly.
"God, that's perfect," he said.
Harry could feel his heart beating in his head. "Yes," he replied, and started to move. He forced himself to go slowly, excruciatingly so, in fact. It felt so intensely good that he was afraid he'd come if he went even a tiny bit faster. Harry braced his forearms on either side of Malfoy's torso, pressing their chests together. Malfoy was nearly bent in half, but he didn't seem to mind. Harry tried to kiss him, but it was far too difficult to concentrate on more than one motion at a time. He settled for touching his forehead against Malfoy's, and finally found a rhythm he could maintain without losing control.
Harry had no idea what this felt like, and could only hope he was doing it correctly. He'd fucked Cho like this a few times, after a good deal of rimming and pleading. He'd always wondered why this particular act had seemed so erotic to him.
Well, maybe there was a good reason, he thought, stifling a smile.
Malfoy's eyes opened, and he grinned. "Having fun?" he whispered.
The question caught Harry completely off-guard, and he paused mid-stroke. "Yes. Are you?"
Malfoy's arms slid around Harry's shoulders. "Fuck, yes. Don't stop." He lifted his head enough to kiss Harry, and Harry felt something melt inside his abdomen. He pushed Malfoy down into the mattress, taking his mouth as he was taking his body. Malfoy moaned and shifted his hips, moving with Harry.
"Can you come like this?" Harry whispered into Malfoy's open mouth. "I don't know what to--"
"Touch me," Malfoy replied, and pushed one of Harry's hands down between their bodies.
It took some coordination and exertion of abdominal muscles, but Harry managed to stroke Malfoy's cock and fuck him at the same time. His own orgasm was hovering close by, but he wanted Malfoy to come first.
"You feel amazing," Harry half-moaned.
"So do you... oh, keep doing that... with your hand..."
"I can't give this up," he continued, brushing his lips against Malfoy's as he spoke. "I can't go back without you."
"Not now, Harry," Malfoy panted.
"Please, just... promise me you'll think about it." Harry's thrusts were speeding up, almost unconsciously.
"Harry, please," Malfoy whimpered. "Don't."
"I need you," Harry said.
Malfoy made a sound almost like a sob, but it seemed to be a cry of pleasure. "Oh god..."
They were both sweating now, and Harry's hand slid easily on Malfoy's cock. "I want you to come with me," he whispered, conscious of the double meaning of his words. "Please..."
Malfoy cried out then, arching his back and forcing Harry's hand to stop moving. Harry braced himself against the mattress and kept pounding into him, startled when he felt Malfoy's body clench around his cock. He was losing control now, vaguely aware that his hips were slamming against Malfoy's ass. He buried his face in Malfoy's shoulder as he came.
They were still for a moment, except for their breathing. Malfoy's arms were wrapped tightly around Harry, so tightly he began to wonder if Malfoy was all right. Harry wriggled a bit and Malfoy let go, and then Harry's back was cool where the air from the vent above hit his sweat-soaked skin. He shifted his hips enough to pull out of Malfoy and spent a moment fumbling with the condom before relaxing against him again.
"That was amazing," Malfoy said. "Oh, god."
Harry grinned against his shoulder. "Please, call me Harry."
There was a second of silence before Malfoy snickered and swatted his shoulder. "You are such a twat!"
Harry raised his head and kissed him. Malfoy squirmed and laughed, but finally gave in, letting himself be kissed. When he made a whimpering noise, Harry shifted his weight onto one elbow and gazed down at him.
"I meant what I said. I want you to come back with me."
Malfoy closed his eyes. "Harry..."
"I can help you. I have some pull with the Ministry, you know. All I'm asking is that you consider it, maybe just come for a few weeks." Malfoy opened his eyes again, and Harry kissed the tip of his nose. "You could stay with me. We could do this every day." He raised an eyebrow.
"And twice on Sundays?" Malfoy asked, smiling. Harry's heart skipped a beat. "I can't make any promises, Harry," he continued, smile fading. "It's complicated, more than you can imagine."
Harry nodded, and nuzzled Malfoy's cheek. "I want to understand. I want to help. But mostly -- to be completely honest -- I want you." He settled his cheek on Malfoy's chest and sighed, listening to the beat of his heart. "I can't bear the thought of leaving here without you. I'd rather not go back at all."
"Not go back?" Malfoy asked, hand smoothing circles on Harry's back. "Are you serious?"
"Yes. I've been thinking about quitting and staying here. There's nothing for me back there."
"Nothing but your job, your home, your friends..."
"None of that seems very important lately." Harry sighed.
"You're not safe here," Malfoy whispered, tightening his arms around Harry again.
"Neither are you," Harry countered.
Malfoy exhaled slowly, and then was silent for a full minute. "All right," he said at last.
Harry froze. "All right?"
"I'll think about it."
"Really?" Harry asked, head popping up. Malfoy nodded. He didn't look terribly comfortable, but Harry kissed him anyway. "Just a few weeks, maybe. It's been ages since you've been home, hasn't it?"
"Yes," Malfoy said, and closed his eyes. "It has been." Harry's kisses on Malfoy's throat turned to nips and licks, almost unconsciously. "Harry," Malfoy groaned, "it's almost five in the morning. Can we sleep before we do it again?"
"Sorry," Harry whispered, settling down beside him. "Can't help it."
"We have all day tomorrow, if you want," Malfoy yawned. He turned onto his side, and Harry spooned against him. "All day, if my ass can take it," Malfoy whispered. Within a few minutes, he was asleep. Harry clung tightly to him, and managed to fall asleep at last.
+++++
February 11, 2004
The sun seemed high in the sky when Harry awoke. He stretched under the duvet and yawned. The pillow smelled of Malfoy, and the duvet smelled of sex. Harry grinned, almost giddy.
He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. He was alone in the bed, but the scent of coffee was heavy in the air. He wondered if Malfoy would come back to bed eventually, if he just stayed there.
After several minutes, he began to feel lonely, so he sat up and squinted around the room. His glasses were on the floor, along with his pyjamas from the night before. He held out his hand and concentrated, and his glasses slowly rose in the air and moved toward him. It took too much effort and far too much time. He really needed to work on his wandless magic, he thought.
He briefly considered walking out of the bedroom naked, hoping Malfoy would take the hint, but pulled his soiled pyjama pants on again instead. There was certainly a lovely memory attached to those.
He pushed the door open and wandered into the main room. "Draco?"
Malfoy was sitting on the floor of the living area, knees pulled up against his chest. His silver bracelet was floating in the air before him, revolving slowly. And he was surrounded by papers.
"Oh god," Harry said.
The bracelet clattered to the floor, and Malfoy looked up at him. His eyes were red-rimmed, as if he'd been crying -- hours ago. The expression on his face was unlike anything Harry had seen before.
"Draco, no--"
"I trusted you," Malfoy said quietly. "He told me not to. He told me who you worked for, and why you were here, and that I was a fool for trusting you." He shook his head and looked away.
Harry was frozen to the spot. He had no idea what to say, or what to do.
"I think you should go," Malfoy said.
"Draco, please, I know what it looks like--"
"What it looks like?" Malfoy scoffed. "Fucking hell, Harry!" He picked up a paper from the floor and waved it before him. "This looks like summaries of intelligence the CIA collected on me in New York, and this one is my phone logs, and this one lists people I fucked, as if that was any of their business." He scanned the floor and picked another paper up. "And this one, Harry -- this one is all about how you've been getting to know me, how you've been working so hard to gain my trust."
"No..." Harry whispered, shaking his head. "No, Draco--"
Malfoy picked up another paper. "And once you'd gained my trust, you were going to hand me over to the Ministry." He looked up at Harry then, expression hard. "And that's what last night was all about, wasn't it?"
"No!" Harry replied, beginning to grow frantic. "Oh, god, I know it's... You haven't seen everything. Let me explain--"
"There's nothing to explain, Potter," Malfoy replied. "You lied to me, and you've been lying to me all along."
Harry began to panic in earnest, and took a step forward. Malfoy's wand appeared in his hand, as if out of nowhere, and he pointed it at Harry. "Stay right where you are," he growled, and leapt to his feet. "You almost had me, you know. I believed everything you said last night." He shook his head, disgusted. "I was going to go with you. And you would have held my hand up until the very moment you handed me over, wouldn't you?"
"No," Harry said. "You've got it all wrong. Please don't do this."
"What have I got wrong?" Malfoy sputtered, brandishing a paper. Harry saw it was the one giving him authority to bring Malfoy back using any force necessary, and winced. "Did they send you here to seduce me into coming back, or was that part your idea?"
"It's not like that, I swear."
"And why the fuck should I believe you now?" Malfoy snorted. His expression was one of intense anger, but Harry could see pain beneath it. "I never lied to you, Harry. I evaded the truth, certainly, but I never lied to you. Not about anything." He clenched his jaw.
Harry could only stare at him. Malfoy was right. Harry should have told him the truth sooner, and now... He stepped forward, scanning the floor frantically. If he could find the paper he'd written threatening to resign, maybe that--
Malfoy growled something that sounded like a spell, but it wasn't one Harry had ever heard before. The papers on the floor swirled up around him, tearing through the air violently. They flew into Harry's empty rucksack, along with pieces of clothing that had been dumped onto the floor, and Harry's jacket and wand. And then the rucksack flew through air towards Harry.
He ducked, but the bag seemed to anticipate the movement. It hit him in the stomach, hard enough to knock the breath out of him momentarily. He staggered back, coughing, and stared at Malfoy. The wand was still pointed at him, and the expression on Malfoy's face was one of deadly anger. Harry swallowed, shocked at how much Malfoy resembled his father at that moment.
"You should leave, Harry," he whispered. "Now, before I do something I'll regret."
Dazed, Harry edged his way toward the door. This couldn't be happening. He had to be dreaming. Surely he'd wake up at any moment, and Malfoy would still be in his arms, sleeping soundly.
The door opened of its own accord, and Harry backed through it. He knew he should say something, but he had no idea what. He was completely, utterly lost.
The door slammed shut, and he was standing in the corridor outside Malfoy's flat, in his pyjamas and clutching his rucksack to his naked chest. He heard a small gasp and turned to see an old woman peeking through a cracked door at him. He ignored her and turned back to Malfoy's closed door. Malfoy was hurt and angry, and Harry couldn't blame him for that. Perhaps he would calm down in a few hours, and Harry could come back, try to reason with him. He pulled his jacket and shoes out of the bag and put them on, and started down the stairs.
He had no idea what to do now. He wasn't sure if the Inn was safe, but he had nowhere else to go. The rest of his belongings were there, and he'd have to go back to settle his bill at some point. And he could call Hermione. He felt relief rush through him, and he picked up his pace. Yes, Hermione would know what to do.
He considered apparating from the alley, but just popping into his room seemed a bad idea. He was barely aware of the people around him as he walked up Castro. All he could think about was the look on Malfoy's face, and the horrible moment when Harry had realized he'd learned the truth.
He walked through the doors of the Inn, glancing about for any sign of danger. All seemed quiet, and unbelievably normal. Harry headed toward the stairs.
"Mr. Potter, is it?"
Harry turned to see a familiar-looking man in a suit glaring at him. He nodded.
"I'm Carl Unter, the manager." He didn't extend his hand to Harry. "I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to settle your bill and check out, immediately."
Harry gaped at him. "I... Sorry?"
Unter wrinkled his nose at Harry's odd appearance, only barely disguising his annoyance. "I don't know why you felt the need to destroy your room last night, but I can assure you we'll hold you responsible for the damage."
Harry winced and nodded. "Yes, of course." He doubted it would do any good to explain that two evil wizards had tried to kill him last night. "May I go up and collect my things?"
Unter nodded curtly. "I'll have your bill ready in ten minutes."
If the staff had been in, at least he knew his room was safe. Harry trudged up the stairs and opened the door. And stared. There wasn't a piece of furniture in the room that hadn't been overturned, damaged, or outright destroyed. The drapes were shredded, and the singed scraps of white fabric blanketing the room could only be the remains of the sheets. There was even a large scorch mark in the carpet in the center of the room. Harry began to feel lucky that he was only going to have to pay for the damage. The Inn would have been well within their rights to have him arrested.
He closed the door behind him and began sifting through the rubble, looking for any clothes that might have escaped notice. Behind the door of the bathroom, he found a pair of dirty jeans and a grey shirt. He couldn't find any underwear. He stripped out of his pyjama pants and turned on the shower, but no water came out. The sink faucets were missing altogether, and his toothbrush seemed to have been melted into a large green lump of plastic.
Groaning, he pulled the jeans on. Going commando in denim was hardly ideal, but he didn't have a choice. He turned the grey shirt right-side-out, and realized it was Malfoy's Queens College t-shirt, the one Harry'd worn to Haight Fair a few days ago. It seemed like a month ago now. He brought it to his face and inhaled. It smelled mostly like him, but there was a hint of cigarette smoke as well. He pulled it on and sighed.
The phone had been smashed apart, so he couldn't call Hermione. He searched the room for a few more minutes, but nothing else seemed to have survived. Malfoy had told him to gather everything of value, and he'd been right.
Harry sank to the floor and emptied the contents of his rucksack. The papers had organized themselves into a surprisingly neat stack; he only had to tuck them into the folder again. His wand was there, and the keys to his room, though the door had been unlocked. He folded his pyjama pants and stuffed them into the bag. There was something else at the bottom, something hard and smooth and--
He pulled Malfoy's silver bracelet from the bag and stared at it for a moment, feeling a strange emotion fill his chest. He had no idea how it had gotten there. Malfoy could have put it in the bag intentionally, or the spell he'd used could have simply gathered everything Harry had arrived with. He had no way of knowing.
It certainly wasn't a portkey anymore. Harry slipped it over his hand, and was surprised when it fit itself snugly to his wrist.
Malfoy had known, somehow, that Death Eaters were coming last night. He'd saved Harry, and then Harry had betrayed him.
He didn't try to fight the tears that welled in his eyes. They spilled down his cheeks silently, only accompanied by the sound of his breathing. He didn't bother wiping them away. There was something cathartic about the feeling of tears drying on his skin.
A few minutes later, he made his way back down to the lobby. He knew it was obvious that he'd been crying, and that he needed a shower and looked like utter shit, but he didn't care. Unter had no sympathy for him as he handed Harry a document to sign and took another imprint of Harry's credit card.
Harry shouldered his bag and turned to leave.
"Mr. Potter, this arrived for you this morning," someone said. It was one of the staff, and she was holding a large Fed Ex envelope.
Harry stopped breathing and stared at it. The woman gave him a funny look and walked over to him, holding it out.
"Thanks," he managed, and turned it over in his hands before opening it. The document was there, exactly as he'd requested, and signed with Fallin's oddly loopy signature. Harry's heart began to pound, and he put the parchment back in the envelope and tucked the envelope into his bag.
He managed to walk calmly to the door, but he started running the second his feet hit pavement. He ran down Castro, back towards Malfoy's building, only realizing he could have apparated when he was nearly there. He pressed the buzzer for Malfoy's flat, but there was no response. He peered inside the door to see the foyer was empty. He looked both ways, and then apparated inside.
He was still panting when he knocked on the door of Malfoy's flat. There was no answer, so he pounded. "Draco!" he called. "Please open the door. I have something important to show you."
He heard a sound nearby, but it was only the neighbor peeking out her door at him again. He glared at her, and she scowled. He pounded harder on the door, and then rested his forehead against it.
And then he realized the wards were gone. His head snapped up, and he pressed both hands flat on the door. He couldn't feel anything, despite the fact that the wards had been immense only an hour before. He knocked again. "Draco?"
The neighbor coughed, and Harry whirled to face her. "Do you fucking mind?" he hissed. She sucked in a breath and closed the door. Harry retrieved his wand from his bag and, holding it at the ready, apparated into Malfoy's flat.
And gasped in surprise. The room was empty, completely empty, as if no one had been there at all. Every drape, every wire, every mug, everything was gone.
"Draco?" he called frantically, moving through the flat, opening doors. But there was no one there. There wasn't even any dust. In one hour, every trace of Draco Malfoy had vanished.
Harry heard a key turn in the lock, and whirled to face the door, wand before him. "Hello?" he heard, and tucked the wand behind his back just in time. A man Harry assumed was the super peeked through the door. "How'd you get in here?" the man asked, a wary glint in his eyes.
"I'm a friend of Derek's," Harry replied, trying to quell his steadily rising panic. "I... have a key. Where is he?"
The man blinked at him as if he were stupid. "Moved out. Got a note from him this morning, along with a check paying off his lease. I don't know when he moved his things, but he was sure quiet about it."
Harry nodded, feeling a bit relieved. It was likely that Malfoy had left of his own free will, then. "Did he leave a forwarding address, by any chance?"
"Nope." The man pushed the door wide open and gestured. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you to vacate the premises."
"Of course," Harry replied, and turned to stash his wand in his jacket. He glanced around the empty room. It was surprisingly full of memories for the short time he'd spent there. So much had happened, and much of it had happened here. He snorted at his own sentimentality and walked out, not looking back.
Once on the street again, he headed for the closest alley, and then apparated to an alley near the café where Malfoy worked. He was usually quite cautious about using magic in public, but no one saw him appear out of thin air.
Malfoy wasn't in the café either, and Rosie told Harry he'd dropped in not long ago and told them he was quitting. He hadn't wanted to wait around long enough to pick up his last paycheck.
"Could you give it to him?" Rosie asked, handing him a folded piece of paper.
Harry nodded and tucked it into his coat pocket. There was already something in his pocket, though -- Colby's card. Harry pulled it out and turned it over in his hands. "Rosie, could I make a phone call?"
+++++
Colby's flat was in Pacific Heights, so Harry took a cab there. Colby was sitting on the stoop, waiting for him.
He stood, smiling. "Hi." He seemed frazzled.
Harry knew he'd probably sounded half-crazy on the phone. "I'm sorry about this," Harry said, stopping before him. "All of it. I just... I don't know anyone here, and..."
"Come on," Colby smiled, gesturing towards the door with his keys. Harry followed him up to his flat. It wasn't nearly as nice as Malfoy's place had been. "Sorry 'bout the mess," Colby muttered. "I've been a little busy lately." Harry shrugged and stared at the floor in front of him. Colby took his hand and led him to the sofa.
"Derek's gone," Harry said, sitting.
Colby blinked at him. "Gone? I..." He sighed. "Harry, I'm sorry. I know you cared about him, but he's not exactly into commitment."
"No, you don't understand," Harry groaned. "He left. His apartment is empty. I can't find him anywhere."
Colby's jaw dropped. "You're kidding! He's... he's gone?" He sank against the sofa, looking a bit pale. "Oh my god. And you have no idea what happened?"
"No," Harry replied. "I was hoping you might know where he was, or..." Harry leaned forward, head in his hands. He imagined he sounded horribly selfish.
Colby was silent, and Harry looked up to see he was staring at Harry's wrist. Harry pulled the sleeve of his shirt down over the bracelet, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Colby looked away.
"You have a lot of nerve to come crying to me about this," Colby muttered.
"I know. I'm really, really sorry."
"But it's okay," Colby continued. "I'll put on some coffee, and we'll talk, all right?"
Harry nodded, and Colby stood. Harry leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes. He could hear Colby moving around in the kitchen, opening a cabinet, and then a container of coffee with a small pop. Harry didn't know what had motivated him to call Colby's mobile and insist he meet Harry right away. Colby'd been at work, but he said he'd go home straight away, it was no problem...
"Colby, you're an angel," Harry said.
"Am I?" he heard, and then felt something hard and cold against the back of his head. He felt the blood drain from his face, almost instantly. "I wouldn't make any sudden moves, if I were you," Colby said. "This is a 357 magnum. Your brains will be splattered on the floor before you can reach for your wand."
For the third time that day, Harry thought he must be dreaming. "Colby?" he squeaked, bewildered.
"Hands where I can see 'em," Colby replied. Harry held his hands in front of him. "Good boy." Colby reached into Harry's jacket and removed his wand. The gun barrel was removed from Harry's skull, and he heard Colby cross the room. He turned his head enough to see that Colby had placed his wand on the dining room table.
Colby moved to stand in front of Harry then, and kept the gun pointing at Harry's chest. "Don't get too comfortable," Colby said, smirking. "They'll be here any minute now."
"What's going on?" Harry asked. His mind was reeling, and he had to pull himself together. "Who's coming?"
Colby smiled. "I can't believe you didn't figure it out, Harry. You have a reputation for rushing into situations without thinking, but this was far too easy."
Harry struggled to keep his voice calm, though he was frantic on the inside. "What didn't I figure out, then?"
Colby's eyes were fixed on the bracelet, though. "He must trust you. Maybe he even told you everything. That makes you just as valuable as he is."
Harry was getting more confused by the second. "Valuable to whom?"
Colby laughed. "To everyone, Harry, but I'll settle for the highest bidder. There are quite a few people interested in Draco Malfoy, and you too, apparently."
"Death Eaters?" Harry asked.
Colby laughed. "If that's what you like to call them. Stupid name, if you ask me." He watched Harry's face for a moment. "I was approached a couple of years ago by a man -- a wizard, actually, with very interesting connections. He was looking for his son, and he offered to pay me very well to find him. I did, but sonny boy didn't want to be found. Didn't want anything to do with daddy, it turned out."
"Can you blame him?" Harry asked, letting a little sarcasm creep into his tone.
"I see you know him," Colby replied. "Mr. Malfoy doesn't take no for an answer, now does he?"
"So you followed Draco here to San Francisco," Harry said. "And you struck up a friendship with him. You spied on him for his father."
Colby grinned. "You're not as dumb as you look, Harry. It was easy enough to catch Malfoy's attention and get into his pants, but staying there..." He shook his head. "Not that you were any different."
Harry took a calming breath. The shock of finding himself in this situation was beginning to wear off, and now he was thinking, planning. If he could just keep Colby talking, he might be able to distract him. Colby always seemed to love to listen to himself, and that might work to Harry's advantage.
"Why the interest in me, though?" Harry asked.
Colby shrugged. "I was hoping you could tell me. Everything was going along smoothly, until about a week ago," Colby sighed, shifting his weight onto one foot. "My division chief at the CIA was delighted I'd found the fugitive they'd been looking for, and they assigned me to watch him here. Mr. Malfoy was reasonably happy with the arrangement."
Harry swallowed. Colby had been the CIA agent all along, and he'd been convinced it was Manny. He hadn't suspected sweet, harmless Colby at all.
"It was fun, too. Sex, drugs, clubbing every night -- who wouldn't enjoy that? All I had to do was write two sets of reports, three times a week." Colby shifted the gun to his other hand. "And then last week, I noted that an old school friend of Malfoy's showed up, some Brit with a strange scar on his forehead. And all hell broke loose." He shook his head in amazement. "Mr. Malfoy was particularly interested, especially when I told him you were fucking his son. My new assignment became... you."
"Hence your sudden interest in me?" Harry felt oddly relieved.
Colby smiled. "Don't get me wrong, Harry. You're a great fuck, but not really my type." His smiled faded into a thin line. "Besides, I'd already failed Lucius Malfoy once. I wasn't going to do it again."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?" Colby's hand was slowly dropping, and the gun was only generally pointed in Harry's direction now. He couldn't see his wand, but if he focused on the memory of it lying on the table, he might be able to retrieve it. He had to get it quickly, though, or Colby would shoot him before he could cast a single spell.
"Why do you care, Harry?" Colby laughed. "Besides, they'll be here for you very soon. Any minute now, in fact." Harry closed his eyes and visualized the wand flying through the air and into his hand, and he pushed with his mind as hard as he could.
Colby gasped and tackled Harry, pressing the gun into his forehead so hard that it hurt. "Nice try," he whispered. "I didn't know you could do that. Now drop the wand."
Harry released the image, and heard his wand clatter to the floor a few feet away. He fought down a rising sense of panic. Now he had no idea what to do. He opened his eyes to see Colby glaring at him.
And then Colby's eyes widened in surprise.
"Give me the gun, Colby," a voice hissed. Harry looked up to see Manny standing just behind Colby. His wand was pressed into Colby's throat. "I know you've seen what these things can do. I can assure you a bullet is hardly a challenge."
That wasn't quite true, Harry noted, but Colby didn't seem to want to call Manny's bluff. He opened his hand so that Manny could take the gun from him. Manny yanked him backwards, away from Harry. Colby was staring at Manny in shock, and he looked terrified.
"Get up, Harry," Manny said. "We're leaving."
Harry blinked and stood shakily.
"Don't do it, Harry," Colby said, glancing back and forth between them frantically. "We work for the same people, and he just wants to be the one to turn you over to them."
Manny made a sound like a disgusted laugh. "He's lying, Harry."
Harry held out his hand, and his wand flew to him. He studied both men's faces. He had no particular reason to believe either of them, at this point.
"Harry, we can go to the CIA instead," Colby said. "If we leave now, we'll have time." He glanced at Harry, clearly panicked. "He'll just turn you over to the Death Eaters."
"Like you were planning to do?" Harry snorted. "Who's the highest bidder now?"
Manny shot an annoyed look at Harry. "We don't have time for this."
Harry took a deep breath and gripped his wand. He could knock either of them off their feet with a word. Or both of them, for that matter, but it wouldn't get him any closer to finding Malfoy. He knew now that he couldn't trust Colby, and he had no idea what to expect from Manny. Choose the evil you know, Aunt Petunia had always said.
He touched the bracelet on his wrist, almost unconsciously, and it hit him: Malfoy didn't trust Colby, but he trusted Manny. And Harry trusted Malfoy, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
He leveled his wand at Colby and said, "Petrificus totalis." Colby had a split second to look shocked before he stiffened and fell to the floor.
Manny raised an eyebrow. "Crude, but effective."
"Should we tie him up, or something?" Harry asked.
"There isn't time," Manny said, stepping towards Harry and holding out his hand. "I've got to port you out of here right now."
Harry hesitated. "Port?"
Manny shook his head. "Or whatever the Brit term for it is... apparate." He was starting to look nervous. Harry nodded, and picked up his rucksack as he stepped forward. Manny pulled him into a tight embrace, and then everything shifted.
He found himself standing in a room with no windows, dimly lit by a single light bulb. Manny released him and stepped toward the door. He turned back to Harry as he opened it.
"Vamonos, Mr. Potter."
Harry steeled himself and followed.
+++++
Go on to part 10
Title: Left My Heart
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Please ask. Please also note that this is not the final version of this fic. I'll be revising it when this draft is finished. I don't mind if people archive it as a WIP, in the meantime.
Pairing: Harry/Draco (and some Harry/OMC)
Summary: Post-Hogwarts. Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to find him.
Warnings: WIP, though I update weekly.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, not making any money, no infringement intended.
Note 1: Set present day, February 2004. Thanks to
jedirita, snowqueenofhoth, and wyoming_knott for the betas! I'm going to owe them big time when this is finished. Note 2: *coughs* Um, 11 parts. Yeah. It was either that or part 10 would have been really, really long.
Feedback: Yes, please!!! Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to leave me such thoughtful comments. I'm completely floored by the response! I'll try very hard to reply to them all.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Where we left off last time:
Malfoy gazed up at him, expression unreadable. Harry swallowed, and tried not to feel guilty that he was more worried about whether or not Malfoy would shag him now than he was about his own safety.
Harry sighed, and forced himself to smile. "What do we do now?"
Malfoy pushed away from the door enough to open it. "How about a shower?" There was something almost shy about his manner, and it tugged at a place deep inside Harry. He could only nod in response.
He followed Malfoy into the bedroom and watched him strip out of his clothing layer by layer, holding Harry's gaze steadily all the while. Harry stood, mesmerized, as Malfoy pulled his shirt up over his head and then blew a few strands of hair out his face. Malfoy kept his eyes locked on Harry's as one hand trailed down his chest to unfasten the button of his jeans, and he didn't drop Harry's gaze when he bent over enough to push them past his knees and step out of them. More and more pale skin was bared until finally, Malfoy was standing naked before him.
Harry could hardly breathe. He was afraid to move or to speak at all, in case this really was a dream. Malfoy wasn't particularly modest, and certainly seemed unembarrassed by his nudity at the moment. Harry felt a stab of fear that this was an elaborate tease, and that Malfoy had no intention of making love to him at all. Malfoy turned away then, and stepped through the bathroom door. Harry hesitated a few seconds before pushing his sticky pyjama pants off and following.
Malfoy smiled over his shoulder at Harry just before he stepped under the spray. It seemed to be an invitation, so Harry followed. He stood at the side of the shower for nearly a minute, watching Malfoy tilt his head back under the water. Malfoy's eyes remained closed as he threaded long fingers through his red-streaked blonde hair. He pushed it back away from his face, reminding Harry of the way he'd worn it as a child, and then tilted his head back a bit further. Water trickled down his cheek, under his jaw, and down his throat.
Harry found himself torn between continuing to watch and joining in. At last, he lathered his hands and tentatively ran them over Malfoy's chest. Malfoy seemed startled, but allowed Harry to touch him freely. Harry's hands moved smoothly over soap-slicked angles of skin and muscle, lightly over spots where Malfoy seemed far too thin, and lingered in places he found intriguing. His hands slid down Malfoy's back, down to where his body curved just above the swell of his ass. Malfoy sucked in a breath when Harry's fingers delved into the cleft and teased at his opening before moving on again. Malfoy reached for the soap then, and tugged Harry under the shower as well.
Harry closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of slick fingers moving slowly over his chest, down his sides, tracing the length of his spine. He hadn't been touched this way by anyone in a long time, and he'd forgotten how vulnerable it made him feel. There was a part of him that wanted to push those hands away, before they made their way under his skin. He stayed still until he couldn't bear it anymore, and then kissed Malfoy instead.
They stood under the spray of the hot water for a long time after they'd rinsed all the soap away. Harry thought he might die from the slow slide of Malfoy's tongue against his, from the feeling of water dripping down their faces and into their open mouths, from the brush of hot lips against his own.
At last, Malfoy stepped back and turned the water off. He glanced down between them and grinned. "Is that for me?"
Harry took Malfoy's hand and wrapped it around his renewed erection. "You really need to ask?"
Malfoy pulled his hand away and passed Harry a towel. "We're going to do it properly this time. Lying down, on a bed."
Harry grinned and started drying himself off.
They managed to keep some distance between them for the few minutes it took to get mostly dry and into bed. Harry felt oddly embarrassed when Malfoy fumbled through a drawer and produced condom packets and a bottle of lube. He set them on the nightstand and turned to Harry. The expression on his face was guarded, and Harry couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
He reached out to trace a line of shadow down Malfoy's side. "You said before that you couldn't bear to make love to me. Are you sure about this?"
Malfoy nodded and moved closer, stretching out next to him. "I'll probably regret it, but... I think I'll regret it more if we don't." He kissed Harry's shoulder then, so tenderly Harry felt his throat tighten. "What about you? You said you weren't the sort for casual sex."
Too late to worry about that now, Harry thought as he pulled Malfoy closer. He was still hoping this encounter was far more than casual. He slid a knee between Malfoy's legs. "I assume we're safe here? From--" He paused, realizing he hadn't yet told Malfoy what he'd seen.
Malfoy kissed him, as if to stop him from saying any more. "We're safe," he whispered. "Everything else can wait for morning."
With that, he rolled onto his back, tugging Harry along with him. Harry smiled down at him, marveling at the feel of so much warm skin pressed against him for the first time in months. Malfoy was smiling -- beckoning, really -- and Harry couldn't resist dipping his head down for a kiss. Malfoy made a contented sound and shifted beneath him.
Harry forced himself to be patient. He didn't want to think this might be their only night together, but just in case, he wanted to make the most of it. He kissed Malfoy for a long time before leaving his mouth to pay attention to his neck and chest.
He'd never actually made love to a man, he realized. Not like this, at least: slow and careful, naked and vulnerable, and feeling so very much. He paused to look at each new patch of skin before he tasted it, to marvel at the fact that Malfoy's body wasn't as perfect as Harry had imagined -- and that he didn't care.
Actually, he liked the fact that Malfoy had a few ugly scars in places he usually kept covered by clothes, and that he had a large bruise on his side that looked to be a week old. He liked the fact that Malfoy was too skinny in some places and strangely muscular in others. He ran his fingertips over the wispy strands of blonde hair scattered across Malfoy's chest that made him look almost boyish compared to Harry. He kissed the freckles on Malfoy's shoulders, making a note to scold him for spending too much time in the sun, fair skin unprotected.
Malfoy sucked in his breath when Harry flicked his tongue across a rapidly hardening nipple. He squirmed until Harry bit -- and then he yelped. Harry glanced up, but Malfoy's eyes were closed. He moved to the other nipple, wondering if this was the sort of thing men did in bed. He had little more than his experience with women to go on, and he hoped it would be enough.
"I've never done this before, you know," he whispered against Malfoy's chest.
"Hunnhh?" Malfoy grunted in reply. Speaking seemed to require effort. "What about... Colby?"
Harry licked along a rib, one that seemed much too prominent. "That wasn't like this," he replied. "Standing up in a toilet is hardly an ideal sexual encounter." He pressed his nose into Malfoy's navel, and Malfoy giggled.
"Mmm, I suppose not."
Harry nipped at the line of fine blonde hair running from Malfoy's navel south, and his chin brushed Malfoy's cock.
Malfoy inhaled, and Harry propped himself up on an elbow and took a good look. He didn't have so much to compare it to, but Malfoy's erect penis seemed to be about average in size. It was smaller than Harry's, bigger than Colby's, and maybe even looked a bit larger than it would on someone of normal weight.
Malfoy made a frustrated sound above him. "I don't suppose you could speed things up a little?"
Harry leaned forward enough to plant a kiss at the juncture of hip and thigh. "In a hurry or something?"
"No, I'm just about to go mad, is all!" Malfoy's tone was light, and Harry had the feeling he really didn't mind at all.
Harry kept kissing and exploring -- hips, knees, and feet, and then kissed his way down the inside of one thigh. Malfoy made a whimpering sound when Harry's breath ghosted over his balls, and another one when Harry trailed the tip of his tongue up the underside of his cock.
Harry started to sit up, but Malfoy's knees closed around his ears. "No, no, don't stop! Please just...?"
Harry laughed and pressed the backs of Malfoy's thighs forward until his knees were touching his chest. "Haven't you heard of foreplay?"
Malfoy made a grumbling sound. "That's something girls fancy, isn't it? Along with chocolate and sappy films."
Harry grinned and slid down onto his belly. Malfoy's breathing sped up when he realized Harry was getting comfortable. Harry released his hold on Malfoy's thighs, and Malfoy's hands moved down to hold his own knees back. It was a position Harry had always loved to see a woman in -- holding herself open for him, trembling with need. He realized he liked to see a man that way just as much, even if the view was different.
He nuzzled Malfoy's balls with the tip of his nose, and then flicked his tongue over the skin just below. Malfoy stopped breathing for a moment, only to inhale sharply when Harry's tongue moved lower still.
"Oh god..." Malfoy mumbled.
Harry swirled his tongue around his entrance, and then pressed into Malfoy with the tip of his tongue, probing gently. Malfoy pulled his knees up harder and made an incoherent noise. Harry pushed in as far as he could, slowly fucking Malfoy with his tongue. He could feel Malfoy trembling, and he couldn't help but smile.
"Are you sure you haven't... done this before?"
"Girls have arseholes too, you know," Harry laughed. He flicked his tongue lightly across the hole before pressing in again.
"Not fair," Malfoy mumbled, and the mumble turned into a moan when Harry began small fast strokes, in and out.
He continued until his jaw began to ache from the effort, and then he licked his way back up to Malfoy's cock, not being so careful or gentle now. He took the leaking head into his mouth and sucked, trying to remember the movements of Malfoy's -- Colby's tongue on him the night before. Malfoy released his legs, hooking his knees over Harry's shoulders, and clenched his hands in the sheets on either side.
"Oh god... Harry stop, please..." Harry released him and looked up. A fine sheen of sweat covered Malfoy's chest, making him almost seem to sparkle in the dim light. "I don't want to come that fast," he panted.
Harry crawled forward, Malfoy's knees still over his shoulders, and smiled down at him. "What do you want, then?" Harry knew what he wanted.
Malfoy grinned. "I want you to fuck me. No, I need you to fuck me."
"Need?" Harry laughed. He thought about teasing Malfoy for his choice of words, but Malfoy was already reaching his hand out for a condom. He winked at Harry as he opened the package and rolled it on Harry's cock without even looking at what he was doing. Harry's eyes closed at the brief touch, and he began to wonder how long he could possibly last. He'd been fantasizing about fucking Malfoy for a while now, after all. The lube bottle was pressed into his hand then, and he blushed when he saw the amused smirk on Malfoy's face. He spread a copious amount of lube on his fingers and leaned forward enough to kiss Malfoy while he pushed one finger into him, and then another, moving slowly.
Malfoy's expression changed completely. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he whispered against Harry's lips. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
Harry's tongue traced Malfoy's lips, and he smiled. "I'm making this up as I go along." He removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock, pushing forward slowly, until he was sheathed in Malfoy's body entirely. He could feel Malfoy pushing back against him, willing his muscles to relax. Harry's instinct was to thrust, but he forced himself to stay still, and to be in the moment as completely as possible.
The moment of entry was always amazing for Harry, and this time was no exception. The sheer heat of another body engulfing the sensitive skin of his cock, the pressure, the sense of reaching inside another person -- he didn't know how people could give this away so easily, so casually. He had to close his eyes against the intensity of what he was feeling, lest it overwhelm him.
But then he opened his eyes again, and saw Malfoy's face. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was open, and his expression was somewhere between pain and pleasure, as far as Harry could tell. Malfoy's forehead wrinkled, and he exhaled slowly.
"God, that's perfect," he said.
Harry could feel his heart beating in his head. "Yes," he replied, and started to move. He forced himself to go slowly, excruciatingly so, in fact. It felt so intensely good that he was afraid he'd come if he went even a tiny bit faster. Harry braced his forearms on either side of Malfoy's torso, pressing their chests together. Malfoy was nearly bent in half, but he didn't seem to mind. Harry tried to kiss him, but it was far too difficult to concentrate on more than one motion at a time. He settled for touching his forehead against Malfoy's, and finally found a rhythm he could maintain without losing control.
Harry had no idea what this felt like, and could only hope he was doing it correctly. He'd fucked Cho like this a few times, after a good deal of rimming and pleading. He'd always wondered why this particular act had seemed so erotic to him.
Well, maybe there was a good reason, he thought, stifling a smile.
Malfoy's eyes opened, and he grinned. "Having fun?" he whispered.
The question caught Harry completely off-guard, and he paused mid-stroke. "Yes. Are you?"
Malfoy's arms slid around Harry's shoulders. "Fuck, yes. Don't stop." He lifted his head enough to kiss Harry, and Harry felt something melt inside his abdomen. He pushed Malfoy down into the mattress, taking his mouth as he was taking his body. Malfoy moaned and shifted his hips, moving with Harry.
"Can you come like this?" Harry whispered into Malfoy's open mouth. "I don't know what to--"
"Touch me," Malfoy replied, and pushed one of Harry's hands down between their bodies.
It took some coordination and exertion of abdominal muscles, but Harry managed to stroke Malfoy's cock and fuck him at the same time. His own orgasm was hovering close by, but he wanted Malfoy to come first.
"You feel amazing," Harry half-moaned.
"So do you... oh, keep doing that... with your hand..."
"I can't give this up," he continued, brushing his lips against Malfoy's as he spoke. "I can't go back without you."
"Not now, Harry," Malfoy panted.
"Please, just... promise me you'll think about it." Harry's thrusts were speeding up, almost unconsciously.
"Harry, please," Malfoy whimpered. "Don't."
"I need you," Harry said.
Malfoy made a sound almost like a sob, but it seemed to be a cry of pleasure. "Oh god..."
They were both sweating now, and Harry's hand slid easily on Malfoy's cock. "I want you to come with me," he whispered, conscious of the double meaning of his words. "Please..."
Malfoy cried out then, arching his back and forcing Harry's hand to stop moving. Harry braced himself against the mattress and kept pounding into him, startled when he felt Malfoy's body clench around his cock. He was losing control now, vaguely aware that his hips were slamming against Malfoy's ass. He buried his face in Malfoy's shoulder as he came.
They were still for a moment, except for their breathing. Malfoy's arms were wrapped tightly around Harry, so tightly he began to wonder if Malfoy was all right. Harry wriggled a bit and Malfoy let go, and then Harry's back was cool where the air from the vent above hit his sweat-soaked skin. He shifted his hips enough to pull out of Malfoy and spent a moment fumbling with the condom before relaxing against him again.
"That was amazing," Malfoy said. "Oh, god."
Harry grinned against his shoulder. "Please, call me Harry."
There was a second of silence before Malfoy snickered and swatted his shoulder. "You are such a twat!"
Harry raised his head and kissed him. Malfoy squirmed and laughed, but finally gave in, letting himself be kissed. When he made a whimpering noise, Harry shifted his weight onto one elbow and gazed down at him.
"I meant what I said. I want you to come back with me."
Malfoy closed his eyes. "Harry..."
"I can help you. I have some pull with the Ministry, you know. All I'm asking is that you consider it, maybe just come for a few weeks." Malfoy opened his eyes again, and Harry kissed the tip of his nose. "You could stay with me. We could do this every day." He raised an eyebrow.
"And twice on Sundays?" Malfoy asked, smiling. Harry's heart skipped a beat. "I can't make any promises, Harry," he continued, smile fading. "It's complicated, more than you can imagine."
Harry nodded, and nuzzled Malfoy's cheek. "I want to understand. I want to help. But mostly -- to be completely honest -- I want you." He settled his cheek on Malfoy's chest and sighed, listening to the beat of his heart. "I can't bear the thought of leaving here without you. I'd rather not go back at all."
"Not go back?" Malfoy asked, hand smoothing circles on Harry's back. "Are you serious?"
"Yes. I've been thinking about quitting and staying here. There's nothing for me back there."
"Nothing but your job, your home, your friends..."
"None of that seems very important lately." Harry sighed.
"You're not safe here," Malfoy whispered, tightening his arms around Harry again.
"Neither are you," Harry countered.
Malfoy exhaled slowly, and then was silent for a full minute. "All right," he said at last.
Harry froze. "All right?"
"I'll think about it."
"Really?" Harry asked, head popping up. Malfoy nodded. He didn't look terribly comfortable, but Harry kissed him anyway. "Just a few weeks, maybe. It's been ages since you've been home, hasn't it?"
"Yes," Malfoy said, and closed his eyes. "It has been." Harry's kisses on Malfoy's throat turned to nips and licks, almost unconsciously. "Harry," Malfoy groaned, "it's almost five in the morning. Can we sleep before we do it again?"
"Sorry," Harry whispered, settling down beside him. "Can't help it."
"We have all day tomorrow, if you want," Malfoy yawned. He turned onto his side, and Harry spooned against him. "All day, if my ass can take it," Malfoy whispered. Within a few minutes, he was asleep. Harry clung tightly to him, and managed to fall asleep at last.
+++++
February 11, 2004
The sun seemed high in the sky when Harry awoke. He stretched under the duvet and yawned. The pillow smelled of Malfoy, and the duvet smelled of sex. Harry grinned, almost giddy.
He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. He was alone in the bed, but the scent of coffee was heavy in the air. He wondered if Malfoy would come back to bed eventually, if he just stayed there.
After several minutes, he began to feel lonely, so he sat up and squinted around the room. His glasses were on the floor, along with his pyjamas from the night before. He held out his hand and concentrated, and his glasses slowly rose in the air and moved toward him. It took too much effort and far too much time. He really needed to work on his wandless magic, he thought.
He briefly considered walking out of the bedroom naked, hoping Malfoy would take the hint, but pulled his soiled pyjama pants on again instead. There was certainly a lovely memory attached to those.
He pushed the door open and wandered into the main room. "Draco?"
Malfoy was sitting on the floor of the living area, knees pulled up against his chest. His silver bracelet was floating in the air before him, revolving slowly. And he was surrounded by papers.
"Oh god," Harry said.
The bracelet clattered to the floor, and Malfoy looked up at him. His eyes were red-rimmed, as if he'd been crying -- hours ago. The expression on his face was unlike anything Harry had seen before.
"Draco, no--"
"I trusted you," Malfoy said quietly. "He told me not to. He told me who you worked for, and why you were here, and that I was a fool for trusting you." He shook his head and looked away.
Harry was frozen to the spot. He had no idea what to say, or what to do.
"I think you should go," Malfoy said.
"Draco, please, I know what it looks like--"
"What it looks like?" Malfoy scoffed. "Fucking hell, Harry!" He picked up a paper from the floor and waved it before him. "This looks like summaries of intelligence the CIA collected on me in New York, and this one is my phone logs, and this one lists people I fucked, as if that was any of their business." He scanned the floor and picked another paper up. "And this one, Harry -- this one is all about how you've been getting to know me, how you've been working so hard to gain my trust."
"No..." Harry whispered, shaking his head. "No, Draco--"
Malfoy picked up another paper. "And once you'd gained my trust, you were going to hand me over to the Ministry." He looked up at Harry then, expression hard. "And that's what last night was all about, wasn't it?"
"No!" Harry replied, beginning to grow frantic. "Oh, god, I know it's... You haven't seen everything. Let me explain--"
"There's nothing to explain, Potter," Malfoy replied. "You lied to me, and you've been lying to me all along."
Harry began to panic in earnest, and took a step forward. Malfoy's wand appeared in his hand, as if out of nowhere, and he pointed it at Harry. "Stay right where you are," he growled, and leapt to his feet. "You almost had me, you know. I believed everything you said last night." He shook his head, disgusted. "I was going to go with you. And you would have held my hand up until the very moment you handed me over, wouldn't you?"
"No," Harry said. "You've got it all wrong. Please don't do this."
"What have I got wrong?" Malfoy sputtered, brandishing a paper. Harry saw it was the one giving him authority to bring Malfoy back using any force necessary, and winced. "Did they send you here to seduce me into coming back, or was that part your idea?"
"It's not like that, I swear."
"And why the fuck should I believe you now?" Malfoy snorted. His expression was one of intense anger, but Harry could see pain beneath it. "I never lied to you, Harry. I evaded the truth, certainly, but I never lied to you. Not about anything." He clenched his jaw.
Harry could only stare at him. Malfoy was right. Harry should have told him the truth sooner, and now... He stepped forward, scanning the floor frantically. If he could find the paper he'd written threatening to resign, maybe that--
Malfoy growled something that sounded like a spell, but it wasn't one Harry had ever heard before. The papers on the floor swirled up around him, tearing through the air violently. They flew into Harry's empty rucksack, along with pieces of clothing that had been dumped onto the floor, and Harry's jacket and wand. And then the rucksack flew through air towards Harry.
He ducked, but the bag seemed to anticipate the movement. It hit him in the stomach, hard enough to knock the breath out of him momentarily. He staggered back, coughing, and stared at Malfoy. The wand was still pointed at him, and the expression on Malfoy's face was one of deadly anger. Harry swallowed, shocked at how much Malfoy resembled his father at that moment.
"You should leave, Harry," he whispered. "Now, before I do something I'll regret."
Dazed, Harry edged his way toward the door. This couldn't be happening. He had to be dreaming. Surely he'd wake up at any moment, and Malfoy would still be in his arms, sleeping soundly.
The door opened of its own accord, and Harry backed through it. He knew he should say something, but he had no idea what. He was completely, utterly lost.
The door slammed shut, and he was standing in the corridor outside Malfoy's flat, in his pyjamas and clutching his rucksack to his naked chest. He heard a small gasp and turned to see an old woman peeking through a cracked door at him. He ignored her and turned back to Malfoy's closed door. Malfoy was hurt and angry, and Harry couldn't blame him for that. Perhaps he would calm down in a few hours, and Harry could come back, try to reason with him. He pulled his jacket and shoes out of the bag and put them on, and started down the stairs.
He had no idea what to do now. He wasn't sure if the Inn was safe, but he had nowhere else to go. The rest of his belongings were there, and he'd have to go back to settle his bill at some point. And he could call Hermione. He felt relief rush through him, and he picked up his pace. Yes, Hermione would know what to do.
He considered apparating from the alley, but just popping into his room seemed a bad idea. He was barely aware of the people around him as he walked up Castro. All he could think about was the look on Malfoy's face, and the horrible moment when Harry had realized he'd learned the truth.
He walked through the doors of the Inn, glancing about for any sign of danger. All seemed quiet, and unbelievably normal. Harry headed toward the stairs.
"Mr. Potter, is it?"
Harry turned to see a familiar-looking man in a suit glaring at him. He nodded.
"I'm Carl Unter, the manager." He didn't extend his hand to Harry. "I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to settle your bill and check out, immediately."
Harry gaped at him. "I... Sorry?"
Unter wrinkled his nose at Harry's odd appearance, only barely disguising his annoyance. "I don't know why you felt the need to destroy your room last night, but I can assure you we'll hold you responsible for the damage."
Harry winced and nodded. "Yes, of course." He doubted it would do any good to explain that two evil wizards had tried to kill him last night. "May I go up and collect my things?"
Unter nodded curtly. "I'll have your bill ready in ten minutes."
If the staff had been in, at least he knew his room was safe. Harry trudged up the stairs and opened the door. And stared. There wasn't a piece of furniture in the room that hadn't been overturned, damaged, or outright destroyed. The drapes were shredded, and the singed scraps of white fabric blanketing the room could only be the remains of the sheets. There was even a large scorch mark in the carpet in the center of the room. Harry began to feel lucky that he was only going to have to pay for the damage. The Inn would have been well within their rights to have him arrested.
He closed the door behind him and began sifting through the rubble, looking for any clothes that might have escaped notice. Behind the door of the bathroom, he found a pair of dirty jeans and a grey shirt. He couldn't find any underwear. He stripped out of his pyjama pants and turned on the shower, but no water came out. The sink faucets were missing altogether, and his toothbrush seemed to have been melted into a large green lump of plastic.
Groaning, he pulled the jeans on. Going commando in denim was hardly ideal, but he didn't have a choice. He turned the grey shirt right-side-out, and realized it was Malfoy's Queens College t-shirt, the one Harry'd worn to Haight Fair a few days ago. It seemed like a month ago now. He brought it to his face and inhaled. It smelled mostly like him, but there was a hint of cigarette smoke as well. He pulled it on and sighed.
The phone had been smashed apart, so he couldn't call Hermione. He searched the room for a few more minutes, but nothing else seemed to have survived. Malfoy had told him to gather everything of value, and he'd been right.
Harry sank to the floor and emptied the contents of his rucksack. The papers had organized themselves into a surprisingly neat stack; he only had to tuck them into the folder again. His wand was there, and the keys to his room, though the door had been unlocked. He folded his pyjama pants and stuffed them into the bag. There was something else at the bottom, something hard and smooth and--
He pulled Malfoy's silver bracelet from the bag and stared at it for a moment, feeling a strange emotion fill his chest. He had no idea how it had gotten there. Malfoy could have put it in the bag intentionally, or the spell he'd used could have simply gathered everything Harry had arrived with. He had no way of knowing.
It certainly wasn't a portkey anymore. Harry slipped it over his hand, and was surprised when it fit itself snugly to his wrist.
Malfoy had known, somehow, that Death Eaters were coming last night. He'd saved Harry, and then Harry had betrayed him.
He didn't try to fight the tears that welled in his eyes. They spilled down his cheeks silently, only accompanied by the sound of his breathing. He didn't bother wiping them away. There was something cathartic about the feeling of tears drying on his skin.
A few minutes later, he made his way back down to the lobby. He knew it was obvious that he'd been crying, and that he needed a shower and looked like utter shit, but he didn't care. Unter had no sympathy for him as he handed Harry a document to sign and took another imprint of Harry's credit card.
Harry shouldered his bag and turned to leave.
"Mr. Potter, this arrived for you this morning," someone said. It was one of the staff, and she was holding a large Fed Ex envelope.
Harry stopped breathing and stared at it. The woman gave him a funny look and walked over to him, holding it out.
"Thanks," he managed, and turned it over in his hands before opening it. The document was there, exactly as he'd requested, and signed with Fallin's oddly loopy signature. Harry's heart began to pound, and he put the parchment back in the envelope and tucked the envelope into his bag.
He managed to walk calmly to the door, but he started running the second his feet hit pavement. He ran down Castro, back towards Malfoy's building, only realizing he could have apparated when he was nearly there. He pressed the buzzer for Malfoy's flat, but there was no response. He peered inside the door to see the foyer was empty. He looked both ways, and then apparated inside.
He was still panting when he knocked on the door of Malfoy's flat. There was no answer, so he pounded. "Draco!" he called. "Please open the door. I have something important to show you."
He heard a sound nearby, but it was only the neighbor peeking out her door at him again. He glared at her, and she scowled. He pounded harder on the door, and then rested his forehead against it.
And then he realized the wards were gone. His head snapped up, and he pressed both hands flat on the door. He couldn't feel anything, despite the fact that the wards had been immense only an hour before. He knocked again. "Draco?"
The neighbor coughed, and Harry whirled to face her. "Do you fucking mind?" he hissed. She sucked in a breath and closed the door. Harry retrieved his wand from his bag and, holding it at the ready, apparated into Malfoy's flat.
And gasped in surprise. The room was empty, completely empty, as if no one had been there at all. Every drape, every wire, every mug, everything was gone.
"Draco?" he called frantically, moving through the flat, opening doors. But there was no one there. There wasn't even any dust. In one hour, every trace of Draco Malfoy had vanished.
Harry heard a key turn in the lock, and whirled to face the door, wand before him. "Hello?" he heard, and tucked the wand behind his back just in time. A man Harry assumed was the super peeked through the door. "How'd you get in here?" the man asked, a wary glint in his eyes.
"I'm a friend of Derek's," Harry replied, trying to quell his steadily rising panic. "I... have a key. Where is he?"
The man blinked at him as if he were stupid. "Moved out. Got a note from him this morning, along with a check paying off his lease. I don't know when he moved his things, but he was sure quiet about it."
Harry nodded, feeling a bit relieved. It was likely that Malfoy had left of his own free will, then. "Did he leave a forwarding address, by any chance?"
"Nope." The man pushed the door wide open and gestured. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you to vacate the premises."
"Of course," Harry replied, and turned to stash his wand in his jacket. He glanced around the empty room. It was surprisingly full of memories for the short time he'd spent there. So much had happened, and much of it had happened here. He snorted at his own sentimentality and walked out, not looking back.
Once on the street again, he headed for the closest alley, and then apparated to an alley near the café where Malfoy worked. He was usually quite cautious about using magic in public, but no one saw him appear out of thin air.
Malfoy wasn't in the café either, and Rosie told Harry he'd dropped in not long ago and told them he was quitting. He hadn't wanted to wait around long enough to pick up his last paycheck.
"Could you give it to him?" Rosie asked, handing him a folded piece of paper.
Harry nodded and tucked it into his coat pocket. There was already something in his pocket, though -- Colby's card. Harry pulled it out and turned it over in his hands. "Rosie, could I make a phone call?"
+++++
Colby's flat was in Pacific Heights, so Harry took a cab there. Colby was sitting on the stoop, waiting for him.
He stood, smiling. "Hi." He seemed frazzled.
Harry knew he'd probably sounded half-crazy on the phone. "I'm sorry about this," Harry said, stopping before him. "All of it. I just... I don't know anyone here, and..."
"Come on," Colby smiled, gesturing towards the door with his keys. Harry followed him up to his flat. It wasn't nearly as nice as Malfoy's place had been. "Sorry 'bout the mess," Colby muttered. "I've been a little busy lately." Harry shrugged and stared at the floor in front of him. Colby took his hand and led him to the sofa.
"Derek's gone," Harry said, sitting.
Colby blinked at him. "Gone? I..." He sighed. "Harry, I'm sorry. I know you cared about him, but he's not exactly into commitment."
"No, you don't understand," Harry groaned. "He left. His apartment is empty. I can't find him anywhere."
Colby's jaw dropped. "You're kidding! He's... he's gone?" He sank against the sofa, looking a bit pale. "Oh my god. And you have no idea what happened?"
"No," Harry replied. "I was hoping you might know where he was, or..." Harry leaned forward, head in his hands. He imagined he sounded horribly selfish.
Colby was silent, and Harry looked up to see he was staring at Harry's wrist. Harry pulled the sleeve of his shirt down over the bracelet, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Colby looked away.
"You have a lot of nerve to come crying to me about this," Colby muttered.
"I know. I'm really, really sorry."
"But it's okay," Colby continued. "I'll put on some coffee, and we'll talk, all right?"
Harry nodded, and Colby stood. Harry leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes. He could hear Colby moving around in the kitchen, opening a cabinet, and then a container of coffee with a small pop. Harry didn't know what had motivated him to call Colby's mobile and insist he meet Harry right away. Colby'd been at work, but he said he'd go home straight away, it was no problem...
"Colby, you're an angel," Harry said.
"Am I?" he heard, and then felt something hard and cold against the back of his head. He felt the blood drain from his face, almost instantly. "I wouldn't make any sudden moves, if I were you," Colby said. "This is a 357 magnum. Your brains will be splattered on the floor before you can reach for your wand."
For the third time that day, Harry thought he must be dreaming. "Colby?" he squeaked, bewildered.
"Hands where I can see 'em," Colby replied. Harry held his hands in front of him. "Good boy." Colby reached into Harry's jacket and removed his wand. The gun barrel was removed from Harry's skull, and he heard Colby cross the room. He turned his head enough to see that Colby had placed his wand on the dining room table.
Colby moved to stand in front of Harry then, and kept the gun pointing at Harry's chest. "Don't get too comfortable," Colby said, smirking. "They'll be here any minute now."
"What's going on?" Harry asked. His mind was reeling, and he had to pull himself together. "Who's coming?"
Colby smiled. "I can't believe you didn't figure it out, Harry. You have a reputation for rushing into situations without thinking, but this was far too easy."
Harry struggled to keep his voice calm, though he was frantic on the inside. "What didn't I figure out, then?"
Colby's eyes were fixed on the bracelet, though. "He must trust you. Maybe he even told you everything. That makes you just as valuable as he is."
Harry was getting more confused by the second. "Valuable to whom?"
Colby laughed. "To everyone, Harry, but I'll settle for the highest bidder. There are quite a few people interested in Draco Malfoy, and you too, apparently."
"Death Eaters?" Harry asked.
Colby laughed. "If that's what you like to call them. Stupid name, if you ask me." He watched Harry's face for a moment. "I was approached a couple of years ago by a man -- a wizard, actually, with very interesting connections. He was looking for his son, and he offered to pay me very well to find him. I did, but sonny boy didn't want to be found. Didn't want anything to do with daddy, it turned out."
"Can you blame him?" Harry asked, letting a little sarcasm creep into his tone.
"I see you know him," Colby replied. "Mr. Malfoy doesn't take no for an answer, now does he?"
"So you followed Draco here to San Francisco," Harry said. "And you struck up a friendship with him. You spied on him for his father."
Colby grinned. "You're not as dumb as you look, Harry. It was easy enough to catch Malfoy's attention and get into his pants, but staying there..." He shook his head. "Not that you were any different."
Harry took a calming breath. The shock of finding himself in this situation was beginning to wear off, and now he was thinking, planning. If he could just keep Colby talking, he might be able to distract him. Colby always seemed to love to listen to himself, and that might work to Harry's advantage.
"Why the interest in me, though?" Harry asked.
Colby shrugged. "I was hoping you could tell me. Everything was going along smoothly, until about a week ago," Colby sighed, shifting his weight onto one foot. "My division chief at the CIA was delighted I'd found the fugitive they'd been looking for, and they assigned me to watch him here. Mr. Malfoy was reasonably happy with the arrangement."
Harry swallowed. Colby had been the CIA agent all along, and he'd been convinced it was Manny. He hadn't suspected sweet, harmless Colby at all.
"It was fun, too. Sex, drugs, clubbing every night -- who wouldn't enjoy that? All I had to do was write two sets of reports, three times a week." Colby shifted the gun to his other hand. "And then last week, I noted that an old school friend of Malfoy's showed up, some Brit with a strange scar on his forehead. And all hell broke loose." He shook his head in amazement. "Mr. Malfoy was particularly interested, especially when I told him you were fucking his son. My new assignment became... you."
"Hence your sudden interest in me?" Harry felt oddly relieved.
Colby smiled. "Don't get me wrong, Harry. You're a great fuck, but not really my type." His smiled faded into a thin line. "Besides, I'd already failed Lucius Malfoy once. I wasn't going to do it again."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?" Colby's hand was slowly dropping, and the gun was only generally pointed in Harry's direction now. He couldn't see his wand, but if he focused on the memory of it lying on the table, he might be able to retrieve it. He had to get it quickly, though, or Colby would shoot him before he could cast a single spell.
"Why do you care, Harry?" Colby laughed. "Besides, they'll be here for you very soon. Any minute now, in fact." Harry closed his eyes and visualized the wand flying through the air and into his hand, and he pushed with his mind as hard as he could.
Colby gasped and tackled Harry, pressing the gun into his forehead so hard that it hurt. "Nice try," he whispered. "I didn't know you could do that. Now drop the wand."
Harry released the image, and heard his wand clatter to the floor a few feet away. He fought down a rising sense of panic. Now he had no idea what to do. He opened his eyes to see Colby glaring at him.
And then Colby's eyes widened in surprise.
"Give me the gun, Colby," a voice hissed. Harry looked up to see Manny standing just behind Colby. His wand was pressed into Colby's throat. "I know you've seen what these things can do. I can assure you a bullet is hardly a challenge."
That wasn't quite true, Harry noted, but Colby didn't seem to want to call Manny's bluff. He opened his hand so that Manny could take the gun from him. Manny yanked him backwards, away from Harry. Colby was staring at Manny in shock, and he looked terrified.
"Get up, Harry," Manny said. "We're leaving."
Harry blinked and stood shakily.
"Don't do it, Harry," Colby said, glancing back and forth between them frantically. "We work for the same people, and he just wants to be the one to turn you over to them."
Manny made a sound like a disgusted laugh. "He's lying, Harry."
Harry held out his hand, and his wand flew to him. He studied both men's faces. He had no particular reason to believe either of them, at this point.
"Harry, we can go to the CIA instead," Colby said. "If we leave now, we'll have time." He glanced at Harry, clearly panicked. "He'll just turn you over to the Death Eaters."
"Like you were planning to do?" Harry snorted. "Who's the highest bidder now?"
Manny shot an annoyed look at Harry. "We don't have time for this."
Harry took a deep breath and gripped his wand. He could knock either of them off their feet with a word. Or both of them, for that matter, but it wouldn't get him any closer to finding Malfoy. He knew now that he couldn't trust Colby, and he had no idea what to expect from Manny. Choose the evil you know, Aunt Petunia had always said.
He touched the bracelet on his wrist, almost unconsciously, and it hit him: Malfoy didn't trust Colby, but he trusted Manny. And Harry trusted Malfoy, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
He leveled his wand at Colby and said, "Petrificus totalis." Colby had a split second to look shocked before he stiffened and fell to the floor.
Manny raised an eyebrow. "Crude, but effective."
"Should we tie him up, or something?" Harry asked.
"There isn't time," Manny said, stepping towards Harry and holding out his hand. "I've got to port you out of here right now."
Harry hesitated. "Port?"
Manny shook his head. "Or whatever the Brit term for it is... apparate." He was starting to look nervous. Harry nodded, and picked up his rucksack as he stepped forward. Manny pulled him into a tight embrace, and then everything shifted.
He found himself standing in a room with no windows, dimly lit by a single light bulb. Manny released him and stepped toward the door. He turned back to Harry as he opened it.
"Vamonos, Mr. Potter."
Harry steeled himself and followed.
+++++
Go on to part 10
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Date: 2004-04-20 11:47 am (UTC)