Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn't mine.

Ignores epilogue.

Warnings: Contains SLASH. Rated M for a reason.


Harry walked slowly down the narrow alley, his invisibility cloak whispering silently around him as he stalked closer to his prey.

He had been tracking Draco Malfoy for months now, always one step behind as he followed his old nemesis across the country. His superiors at the Ministry were beginning to question him; it had never taken him anywhere near this long to bring someone in before and Harry knew that the moment he both longed for and dreaded in equal measures was fast approaching. It had been years since he had last come face to face with Malfoy. In fact, they hadn't seen each other since the night that Voldemort fell.

In the aftermath of the battle, Harry had expected to sleep like a baby but he had tossed and turned instead. Eventually, giving up on sleep, he had wrapped his invisibility cloak around himself and ventured out into what was left of his beloved Hogwarts.

For a long time he had wandered aimlessly until a whisper of sound at the end of the corridor drew his attention. He wasn't sure what made him follow the unknown person. He wondered later if perhaps the habit was so ingrained that he simply couldn't help himself, even before he consciously knew who it was that he was following. It wasn't until the figure stopped outside what had once been the entrance to the Room of Requirement, however, that Harry knew for certain that it was Malfoy.

He wondered briefly where Malfoy's parents were as he watched the Slytherin run a shaky hand over the bare expanse of wall, but realised after a minute that he didn't much care. Malfoy whispered something and Harry found himself shifting closer until he could hear what the other boy was saying.

"I'm sorry, Vince, I'm so sorry."

He was repeating the words over and over again like a mantra and Harry couldn't help himself; he reached out a hand. Instantly Malfoy stiffened wrenching himself away and whirling around, his hand moving instinctively for the wand they both knew wasn't there. At almost the same moment, he seemed to realise exactly who it was that he was sharing the corridor with.

"Is this it, then, Potter? The end?"

He sounded resigned and somehow far braver than Harry had ever thought him to be before. Slowly, Harry pulled off his cloak, watching as Malfoy's eyes snapped up immediately to lock on his.

"This is it." He confirmed as he reached into his pocket for one of the two wands he had placed there.

Malfoy flinched almost imperceptibly at the movement and Harry's heart wrenched painfully.

"This is it." He repeated as he held out Malfoy's wand, handle first.

For a long moment Malfoy stared at him as if trying to decipher a complicated puzzle, before slowly reaching for the strip of hawthorn.


Harry shook his head in response. He had no answers; he just knew that it felt like the right thing to do.

For a long while neither of them spoke, lost in the enormity of everything that had happened to get them to this moment. It was only when Malfoy moved as if to leave that Harry spoke again.

"I'm sorry." He glanced briefly at the blank wall.

Malfoy gave a sharp nod of understanding before biting his lip as though resisting the temptation to speak.

"It was my fault." Malfoy blurted despite himself, the words sounding as though they had been torn from his throat.

Harry was shaking his head even as he wondered why he was trying to comfort Malfoy of all people. "It wasn't you who cast the spell, he brought it on himself."

Malfoy shook his head in denial. "It was me who convinced them to stay at the school, me who wanted to save my stupid worthless name by bringing you in."

Harry stared speechlessly at the Slytherin. Never in his wildest dreams could he ever have imagined Malfoy saying such a thing.

"I've never had friends." Malfoy's voice was so soft Harry almost didn't hear him. "Greg and Vince are... were, the closest I ever got to..."

A solitary tear rolled down Malfoy's cheek and something in Harry broke. In a weird way, it was almost like watching Dumbledore cry. Malfoy had been a part of Harry's foundations almost as much as the old professor; always there, always the same, always solid. This time when Harry reached out, the other boy let him. Without thinking about what he was doing, Harry pulled Malfoy into his arms, hugging him tightly.

It was different, somehow, to anything he had experienced before. It was not the sort of fatherly hug once bestowed on him by Sirius or Remus, nor the awkward pat on the back he occasionally shared with Ron, nor like Hermione's sisterly embraces. It felt closer to the way it had once been secluded away with Ginny, but harder, more... He stopped mid thought, drawing back in shock.

Their eyes met and Harry saw his own feelings mirrored in Malfoy's unguarded gaze. Fear, surprise and desire battled for dominance as they stood gaping at each other. Harry never knew who moved first, but suddenly they were kissing as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Malfoy's lips were soft, somehow at odds with the sharp persona that Harry knew so well. His body was hard and lean in contrast, far removed from the gentle curves he was used to. It should have felt wrong, but it didn't. It felt more right than anything Harry had felt in a very long time.

When they finally parted, it had seemed like the obvious thing to do to lead Malfoy down the hall until they found a classroom that had somehow managed to withstand the destruction of the battle.

Harry had never imagined that he would lose his virginity like that; with a boy, on a broken, dust covered desk. A boy he had thought he hated.

Afterwards, they had cleaned each other up, sharing one final kiss before parting ways in the devastated corridor. They hadn't seen each other since.

Harry had never told another living soul about his night with Malfoy, in fact, he had done his best to put it out of his mind. He had continued on as though nothing had changed, even getting back together with Ginny and pretending everything was ok.

It hadn't been ok, though. He hadn't been able to get Malfoy out of his mind, the taste of him, the feel of him... Ginny had been surprisingly understanding when he confessed that he was gay, hugging him and telling him it was alright. She had even begun introducing him to men she thought he might like, but it had been no use. His one impulsive night of passion in the aftermath of war had ruined him for anyone else.

Harry had thrown himself into work instead, joining the Auror corps as a special agent, spending his time chasing down escaped Death Eaters until none remained. None, at least, except for Draco Malfoy.

He had nearly caught up to Malfoy on several occasions, but on each, the Slytherin had managed to slip through his fingers. Harry was running out of excuses and now it looked as though the final reckoning had arrived.

Harry's footsteps stumbled to a halt as he caught sight of Malfoy leaning casually against the alley wall no more than a few feet away from where Harry was standing.

It would be so easy to cast a stunner without even revealing his identity, to take Malfoy back to the Ministry and be done with him once and for all, but he couldn't do it. Keeping his wand clasped tightly in his right hand, Harry pulled off his cloak, tucking it into his pocket as he met Malfoy's eyes for the first time in nearly four years.

"You took your time." Malfoy drawled, twirling his wand loosely between his finger tips as he pushed away from the wall, stepping closer.

Harry shrugged. "You weren't easy to track down."

"Bollocks. You could've had me months ago and you know it."

Harry wondered if he was imagining the double meaning behind Malfoy's words.

"Then why did you keep running?"

"Curiosity. I wondered how long it would take you to find the guts to face me."

Harry bristled, but refused to rise to Malfoy's baiting. "So why did you stop?"

"I got tired of running."

Harry didn't buy that argument for a minute. "You could've turned yourself in."

"And ruin all the fun of having you take me?" Malfoy replied, still leaving Harry wondering if the double entendres were intended or merely a figment of his overactive imagination.

"Why me?" Harry demanded.

"Why do you think?" Malfoy smirked and Harry growled frustratedly.

"Because you couldn't bear the thought of Azkaban without one last look at my face?" Harry responded sarcastically.

Malfoy laughed. "Keep telling yourself that, Potter."

"So you're just going to hand yourself over to me without even putting up a fight?"

"I did it once before." Malfoy's tone wasn't quite as light as it had been.

"You were unarmed then, you didn't have a choice." Harry tried desperately not to let himself think back to that night so long ago.

"So disarm me." Malfoy challenged.

Harry hesitated for just a second before casting his trademark spell. "Expelliarmus."

Malfoy's wand slid easily from between his unresisting fingers, the strangely familiar length of hawthorn landing neatly in Harry's outstretched palm.

"So now you've got me helpless and vulnerable, what are you going to do with me?"

This time Harry was certain that Malfoy meant more than he was letting on. It was right there in his eyes, a hint of challenge and something more. Something that looked a lot like desire.

"Fuck, Malfoy..." Harry's near desperate moan was all the warning he gave before he shoved the blond back against the wall and crashed their lips together.

Malfoy responded immediately, as though he had been waiting for this just as long as Harry had. Without hesitation, his hands slid up Harry's back to tangle in his hair, his lips parting to allow Harry entrance.

The kiss was fierce, verging on violence as they clung to each other. When they finally drew apart they were both panting heavily.

"Harry..." Malfoy moaned against his lips.

"Merlin, Draco..." Harry gasped back as he thrust his hips forward rubbing his erection against Malfoy's.

"Fuck!" Malfoy's head fell back against the wall as Harry repeated the movement.

"Want me to?" Harry asked.

"Hell yes." Malfoy hissed, grinding back against him.

Without stopping to think, Harry reached between them, unfastening Malfoy's trousers and shoving them down his thighs.

They were in the middle of a public alley and they could be seen at any moment, but Harry didn't care as he spun Malfoy round to face the wall, pushing the other man's boxers down in the same movement. Pausing only to cast a lubrication charm, Harry slid one finger into the blond.

"Like that?" He asked, thrusting roughly in and out.

"Yes." Malfoy gasped, arching back against him.

"Want more?"

Malfoy nodded, moaning as Harry added a second finger and then a third in quick succession.

"Now, please, now." Malfoy gasped out, keening as Harry suddenly filled him.

Nothing had ever felt so good and Harry had to bite his lip to keep from crying out in pleasure as Malfoy's tight heat surrounded him. Barely giving the blond time to adjust, Harry began a punishing rhythm, fucking the Slytherin into the wall. Belatedly, he wrapped an arm around Malfoy's waist, circling his fingers around the Slytherin's length and stroking in time with his thrusts.

It didn't take long after that and a moment later, Malfoy was shuddering against him, moaning his name, pulling Harry over the edge with him.

For a long time neither of them moved. Harry's head rested against the back of Malfoy's shoulder, his arms remaining tightly wrapped around Malfoy's waist as reality threatened to intrude on his moment of bliss. He felt like crying. Months of tracking Malfoy across the country, thinking about him constantly, wondering how he would ever be able to face him again, culminating in this. How could he follow his orders now? How could he turn Malfoy in to the Ministry when the mark on his arm meant that the best he could hope for would be a short sentence in Azkaban?

Feeling sick, Harry made himself pull back, reaching down to readjust his clothing. He didn't look up as Malfoy turned back to face him, repairing the damage to his own outfit.

"Is this it, then? The end?"

Harry closed his eyes, shaking his head in denial as Malfoy's words sent him back through the years to the night of the final battle.

"Not this time" He replied, reaching into his robes for the two wands he had stashed there.

Opening his eyes, Harry met Malfoy's gaze as, once again, he found himself holding out the length of hawthorn, handle first.

This time Malfoy's expression was knowing as he reclaimed his wand and Harry briefly wondered if this had all been just a game to see if Harry would let him go a second time. Yet if that were the case, surely Malfoy was playing with stakes far higher than he could afford to pay.

"You know, Potter, Paris is very nice this time of year."

Before Harry could fully process Malfoy's comment, the Slytherin pressed a brief but bruising kiss to Harry's lips, then turned on the spot and vanished.

As Harry headed back to his office, already trying to formulate another new excuse for Malfoy's latest miraculous escape, one thought whispered repeatedly through his mind... The Ministry had no jurisdiction in France.