Draco and Harry: Escorts in Exile
The minute the door shut behind them at number 12, Grimmauld Place, and their brooms were propped in a corner, Draco slammed Harry up against the wall and took his lips hungrily.
He felt a flash of immense satisfaction as he tore open Harry's shirt and heard the buttons ping against walls and floor—God, how he had missed that sound! His hands were on Harry's skin, under the torn shirt, sliding over his back and ribs… Potter's hands were on Draco's arse and the Gryffindor made an impatient, whimpering sound as he met Draco's kiss. Malfoy hoped no one was home, because there was no way in hell they were going to make it upstairs to the bedroom. It would be a miracle of restraint if he could keep from taking Harry right here in the hall.
"Have we ever made love in the parlour?" he asked, moving his mouth to Harry's beautiful neck.
"No, you hate the parlour," Harry said, moving his hands to the front of Draco's trousers and unfastening them.
"Not any more. I love the parlour. It's my favorite room," Draco said, sucking hard on Harry's throat in between words.
"Why?" Harry gasped as he slipped his hands into the open waistband and touched Draco's—oh my fucking god that feels so fucking good—
"Because it's six steps from here," Draco replied hoarsely and half-dragged Harry into the parlour. The tenacious Gryffindor managed not to lose his grip, earning a groan of thanks from Draco, who pushed Harry down on the plush rug in front of the fireplace.
"Did you buy this white rug?" he asked absently, certain he had never seen it before. Potter's black hair shone like a dark beacon against the fur.
"Tonks did," Harry said and stroked. Draco heard himself moan and quickly worked on the fly of Potter's jeans.
"I'll have to buy her something in gratitude," Draco said and pushed Harry's jeans down over his hips. Harry used his teeth and free hand to tear Draco's shirt open—spilling another set of buttons. They all disappeared into the thick rug. Draco kicked his trousers off carefully, trying not to interrupt Harry's excellent rhythm.
He pressed Potter's jeans and pants down, and Harry managed to shimmy them off. Draco firmly grasped Harry's erection and grinned at Potter's sound of delight. He locked his lips onto Harry's again and moved his other hand down to fondle Potter's testicles. Harry made another squeak of pleasure and Draco felt a rush of bliss that had little to do with Harry's grip on his cock.
"Draco," Harry started, trying to speak around Malfoy's tongue.
"I need to be inside you right now, Harry," Draco whispered, breaking the kiss for a moment. Harry released him in assent and Draco prepared Potter with a quick spell and an intimate caress before slipping into hot, tight, oh so tight, perfect, Harry.
Draco felt like he had come home.
Harry rocked upward with his hips and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, which made it harder for him to move, but he wouldn't complain about having Harry pressed tightly against him. Draco had spent six long months without Harry—given the choice, he would wrap himself around the Gryffindor and never let go.
Harry moved for him, using his legs to lift and thrust himself onto Draco. His mouth attached to Draco's throat, muffling the panting moans he made. Draco's toes dug into the soft rug and his hands gripped Harry's hips to assist in the pounding motion. Fuck, Harry felt amazing. Every single time was heaven.
"Draco, yes, yes, I love, love, love, love you," Harry murmured in time with his exhalations. Draco pressed his lips against Harry's neck and whispered his name in a breathy chant.
The pressure built with every gorgeous stroke and Malfoy was nearing the pinnacle when he heard the front door open. His shocked gaze met brilliant green for an instant, and then Draco felt a yanking sensation that, amazingly, triggered an incandescent orgasm.
They appeared a foot above Harry's bed and slammed onto the mattress. Harry cried out as Draco thrust into him one last time, shuddering with delight, and then Harry's nails—thankfully short—clawed over Draco's back as he buried a scream in Malfoy's shoulder. Harry actually thrashed with the force of his release and Draco began to laugh.
"Holy fuck, how did you do that?"
Sometimes, Potter's power was a bit alarming. The Gryffindor had been nowhere near his wand, and yet he had Apparated them both upstairs without uttering a word.
"Sheer, bloody panic," Harry admitted.
"Well, we should add Apparition to our routine," Draco decided.
Harry chuckled. "Yes, let's Apparate all over the house while we have sex."
"You have to admit it was amazing."
Draco kissed Harry and laughed again. "I plan to make love to you in every room in this house, anyway. I won't cross off the parlour yet, as we were not quite finished in there."
Harry's breath hitched and Draco smiled, heady with power. It was incredible that he could make Potter's heart leap with a few murmured words.
"I'd better go and greet the Lupins," Harry said and Draco obligingly shifted off the Gryffindor. Potter cleaned them up with another wordless spell that left Draco gasping—"A bit of warning would be appreciated!"—and then dragged on a pair of jeans. He yanked a t-shirt over his head and Draco swung his legs off the bed and sat up.
"Hey, Harry," Draco said when the Gryffindor started out. "Come here."
Harry gave him a curious look, but returned to the bed. Draco dragged him down for a searing kiss that left Potter looking decidedly dazed.
"I love you, Harry," Draco said softly and rumpled his black hair affectionately. Harry clung to him for a moment.
"I'm so glad you're home," Harry said and caressed Draco's cheek as he pulled away. He resolutely walked to the door again, and then looked at Draco expectantly. Malfoy laughed.
"I'll be right down. Just let me grab some clothes."
Harry grinned and went out.
Harry was so happy he could have floated without a Flying Spell. Six months of horrific, bleak loneliness and pain had been washed away as though it had never been.
Draco was back.
He tripped down the stairs and nearly ran into Tonks, who held a squirming, fussy bundle in her arms. She caught sight of Harry's silly, dazed grin and smiled brightly.
"Looks like we interrupted something," she said suggestively. "Sorry about that, although perhaps the parlour wasn't the wisest choice for you, eh?"
Harry laughed. "No, probably not, but we… got carried away."
Tonks grinned. "Well, I'm just pleased to see you've stopped moping about, mourning that bastard cousin of mine. Who is the new flame? Anyone we—oh."
Her words snapped off as her gaze went to the stairs. Harry turned to see Draco descending like Apollo from Mt. Olympus, looking decidedly godlike in black trousers and nothing else.
"Hello, cousin," Draco said amiably.
"Draco," Tonks snapped with a voice like iron. Harry felt the sudden tension in the air. Bloody hell, Tonks—and everyone else—thought Draco had mercilessly dumped Harry and disappeared for six months. Tonks and Lupin, especially, had borne the brunt of Harry's withdrawal from everything resembling a life after Draco's departure.
Malfoy continued down the steps until he stood next to Harry. The infant clasped in Tonks's arms let out a mighty shriek and thrashed, working herself up to a red-faced rage. Tonks sighed.
"She's been in a bloody dither all day. When I put her down, she wants up. When I pick her up, she wants down."
Draco held out his hands. "May I?" he asked. Both Harry and Tonks stared at him in surprise, but the baby's screams approached ear-piercing and Tonks handed her over.
Draco held the infant like an expert and the cries silenced instantly as she gazed up into Malfoy's face.
Apparently, no one is immune to his charm, Harry thought wryly. She wrapped a chubby fist around the long finger Draco offered and made a happy coo. Draco grinned.
"What's her name?" he asked softly.
"Lyra," Tonks admitted grudgingly. Draco looked at her pointedly and she grinned with a shrug. "Yes, I named her after a damned constellation, curse it all. But it was a fitting name."
"It's perfect," Draco said. Harry had already remarked on the fact that Lyra seemed to be a throwback to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She had the same platinum blonde hair as Draco, though her eyes were still baby blue. It remained to be seen if they would change color.
"She looks like our mums," Tonks said. With Draco holding her, Lyra looked like his daughter.
"We'll be in my room," Draco informed them and took Lyra down the hall to the study—"his room."
Tonks fixed Harry with a steely gaze as he sidled past her into the parlour and began to Summon assorted items of clothing. Tonks followed.
"Look, I know he's my cousin, but he's bloody bad news, Harry. How can you just let him waltz back in here and turn your head? He smashed your heart against the wall without a second thought—"
"He was captured and tortured for six months," Harry said quietly. "It probably would not have taken so long, but he kept resisting the Imperius Curse."
Tonks looked properly horrified.
"The former Death Eater, Mulciber, meant to trap us both. It nearly succeeded. One of us should be dead." Harry smiled sadly. "He never would have left me like that. Part of me knew it all along, but I stupidly refused to acknowledge it. I won't make that mistake again."
"Oh God," Tonks said and sank into a chair. "I can't believe it. I had no trouble believing the worst of him."
Harry sighed. "We're all guilty of that. I plan to spend the rest of my life making it up to him."
He used his wand to banish the clothing upstairs and Tonks said, "Does that mean we'll be finding buttons all over the house again?"
Harry Summoned those that had fallen into the rug. A small pile appeared in his hand and he grinned. Tonks sighed, but smiled. She looked confused for a moment.
"How did you get upstairs when we came in?"
Harry raised a brow at her. "Best not to know. Where's Remus?" Harry asked as he pocketed the buttons, changing the subject.
"In the kitchen, making lunch."
"Well, now Draco's back, we will all be spared our own atrocious cooking, at any rate."
Tonks got a faraway look and her lips parted in a way that hinted strongly of true love.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Just thinking of Malfoy's cannelloni."
Harry's expression joined hers. "Oh yes, and his Paella Valenciana."
"Bloody hell, yes."
They stared at each other with visions of gastronomic bliss lighting their features.
"I'm so glad he's back," Tonks said with a laugh.
After a quick lunch and a brief reunion with Lupin, Harry went to the study and found Draco sound asleep on the sofa with three-month old Lyra cuddled on his bare chest, also asleep.
Tonks joined him and heaved a deep sigh at the sight.
"They look like angels," she whispered.
"We could be looking at the two most beautiful people on the entire planet," he replied quietly.
"Oh! Let me get the camera!" She brandished her wand and quickly Summoned a camera. A photo was quickly snapped.
"And one for me," Harry said. Tonks clicked again.
"One for mum and da," Tonks murmured. Click.
"Hermione," Harry added. "And one for Draco, of course."
Several clicks later, the proud mother vanished the camera. Harry was pensive for a moment.
"When he left, I realized I did not have a single photo of him," he said quietly. "It disturbed me more than it should have, I suppose, although it isn't as if we were together all that long. I even went to Malfoy Manor to find one." Harry swallowed, thinking of Draco's loss. "I hate to think how many of his memories were destroyed when they razed the Manor. There were a few photos in the basement, but only of Draco as a child."
Tonks squeezed his arm. "Remind me later and I'll take one of you both together."
"That would be nice."
Tonks went out and Harry dropped into a chair to watch his Slytherin and the baby sleep.
Harry snapped out of his dozed and blinked at Draco, who grinned at him from the couch.
"The wee one is sucking on my chest."
Harry smiled. "Can't blame her, there. It's a fabulous chest. Very tasty, also."
"Tasty, perhaps. Lactating, no. Would you mind returning her to someone a bit more suited to providing sustenance?"
Harry got up and retrieved Lyra, who let out a sharp wail at being removed from her perch.
"I know just how you feel," Harry said to the annoyed baby.
Tonks hurried into the room, scooped the child from Harry's arms, and then stooped to kiss Draco on the cheek.
"Welcome home, cousin," she said and strolled out.
Draco sat up and smirked at Harry. Whatever he was about to say was lost when the front door opened and a loud voice called, "Mr. Potter!"
"In here, Maeve," Harry responded and Draco looked at him sharply.
"You brought her here?"
Harry scowled. "I did not have much choice. You were gone, she wanted a continuous dose of orders, and what the hell spell did you use on her, anyway?"
Maeve stopped short when she entered the room and spied Draco. She practically leaped forward and threw herself on her knees before Malfoy.
"Master! You've returned!"
"Er… yes, hello, Maeve. Nice to see you again."
She fairly beamed at him.
"I trust you completed all the tasks I set you to?" he asked and the redheaded witch nodded. Before she could speak, Harry interrupted.
"Maeve copied every spell in her possession and delivered them to Malfoy Manor. She also copied a set for Hermione. And one for me. Then she planted two dozen varieties of roses at the Manor. And she reorganized your closets. Stocked your wine cellar. Alphabetized your library. Monogrammed your socks. Waxed the Manor floors. Four times. And organized your potion ingredients by usage and type." He looked at Maeve. "Did I forget anything?"
"Actually, I waxed the floors five times."
"Five times," Harry repeated. "I sort of ran out of things for her to do."
"She works quickly," Draco commented.
"Too quickly," Harry said.
"Well, Maeve, are you seeking a new task?"
Maeve nodded happily and Harry was once again struck by her resemblance to a house-elf. The only difference was that Maeve never pounded her head against the fireplace mantle or tried to iron her ears.
Draco conjured a scroll.
"This will keep you busy for awhile, dear," he said smoothly. "This is the property of Aloysius the Alarmist. It's written in Ancient Runic. Can you please take this home and translate it into Greek for me?"
A look of consternation crossed Maeve's features.
"I don't speak Greek. Or read and write it, either."
Draco patted her hand. "Of course you don't. So you'll just have to learn that first, won't you?"
"Off you go, then. Learn Greek. Translate scroll."
Maeve took the scroll and stood up. "Yes, Master. As you wish. Good afternoon." She sauntered out looking more content than Harry had seen her in weeks.
Draco grinned at him. "If that takes her fewer than three months, I'll kiss a Hufflepuff."
Harry reflected that the clever bastard had been sorted into Slytherin with damn good reason.
"As long as I get to choose the Hufflepuff," Harry said.
Draco snagged Harry's hand and with a laugh and pulled him down for a kiss.
After some delightful snogging, Draco said, "Potter, there is one small thing I've been wondering about."
"How did you Apparate us upstairs? Considering there is an Anti-Apparition spell on all of London, you know."
"I sort of… dispelled it," Harry admitted and braced himself for the explosion.
"You sort of dispelled the Anti-Apparition spell cast by the Ministry of Magic?"
Draco's eyes glittered dangerously.
"Did you at least have help when you performed this prodigious feat?"
For a moment, Harry considered lying. The words were on his tongue—yes, yes, of course I had help. He sighed and shook his head, knowing Draco would have pounced on the lie the instant it was uttered. Malfoy's arms tightened around him almost to the point of pain.
"That was extremely bloody foolish, wasn't it?" Draco gritted. Harry nodded.
"I was feeling a bit… despondent at the time."
Despondent. Hah. It had been a bit over four months since Draco's disappearance and Harry had been in the blackest mood of his life. He had considered picking up his wand and casting a Killing Curse on himself just to end the misery. Tonks had potentially saved his life when she had bustled in and complained about the broom ride to Diagon Alley in the bitterly cold rain pouring outside, and how things had been so much easier before the Ministry had fucked up transportation with their Anti-Apparition spell and chokehold on the Floo Network and Portkeys.
It had given Harry an idea.
"I think the spell was weakening," Harry said lamely, hoping to loosen Draco's irritated squeeze. "It's not like the Ministry had anyone especially competent at the time they cast it. They were lucky it held as long as it did. Dispelling it was not nearly as difficult as it should have been."
That was all true, and yet completely omitted the fact that the act had nearly killed Harry. He had taken precautions, added bits of ritual magic, and cast various spells of protection. Even with those provisions, he had lain unconscious on the rooftop of an abandoned London building for three days after working his dispelling magic. After which he had crawled to his broom, flown home on the last vestiges of willpower alone, eaten a prodigious amount of food, and slept for a week.
"And it worked?" Draco asked.
Harry nodded. "We can Apparate to Malfoy Manor from here, if you'd like."
"Who knows about this?"
"Bloody hell, no one! I haven't even told Tonks or Lupin. The Ministry would have my head on a plate if they even suspected."
Draco's grip loosened slightly and he scowled.
"Promise me you will not do anything so insanely stupid and dangerous in the future."
Harry opened his mouth, but Draco pressed a finger to his lips.
"Never mind. Your definition of insanely stupid and dangerous differs from that of normal people by quite a large margin. I'll just have to keep an eye on you."
Harry took the finger into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue before sucking it gently. Draco's eyes turned to liquid silver. Harry released the finger in a slow motion.
"I'll hold you to that," he said huskily.