Draco and Harry: Escorts in Exile

Chapter Two

Things reverted back to normal fairly quickly at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Harry moved back into his room. Draco did not move back into his room--he moved into Harry's. They took a number of odd jobs escorting travelers about England, and when there were no jobs, they destroyed pockets of dark magic. Or rather, Harry did while Draco supervised, made imperious suggestions, generally annoyed Harry, and enveloped him in relieved arms whenever the spell was complete.

Harry had done quite a lot of dark magic breaking during Draco's absence and was rather competent at it, but it was still nicely reassuring to have Malfoy fretting over him. Hell, it was just nice to have him around.

However, Draco's constant presence made it increasingly difficult for Harry to be devious. He had not been wickedly crafty since Hogwarts and Malfoy forced him to stretch those abilities to the limit. As May crept toward June, Harry decided he needed help.

ooOoo

Potter was up to something. Draco did not suspect anything, at first. Harry's random disappearances were casually explained.

"Popping to Diagon Alley for a bit. No, no, I don't need company. Be right back," Potter would say. Or, "I'm dying for a Muggle pizza. Want me to bring you back one?" Or, "I need to talk to Fred and George. Back shortly."

The solitary trips would not, in themselves, have triggered Draco's suspicion. He did not own Potter and the Gryffindor could come and go as he pleased. It was the notes that tipped him off. An uncommon number of owls had been arriving for Harry. Potter would unroll the message, read it, and incinerate it on the spot. It was the incineration that did it. Potter was a notorious paper-collector. Draco would have bet a pouch full of Galleons that Harry still owned the scrap of parchment Ginny Weasley had given him with their initials encircled by a little heart. For Potter to destroy a piece of paper rather than smooth it out, make a notation on it, and file it away by date and relevance was beyond unusual. It was downright suspicious.

Draco tried his own counterintelligence. He intercepted some owls. The wax seals were easily bypassed, although Hermione's took a bit of tricky spellwork--the damned untrusting wench had not only double-hexed the seal, she'd encrypted the note. Still, it was child's play for Draco, who had nearly made a career out of thwarting Granger and knew most of her tricks.

Even then, the notes made little sense.

One read, "The Ravenclaw agrees." Another, sender unknown, said cryptically, "Lime. Who would have guessed?" Draco nearly torched the third himself in a fit of frustration. It was from one of the Weasley twins and read only, "Six."

What the hell?

To ice the cake, Draco noticed the cessation of several conversations whenever he walked into the room. Tonks, as an Auror, had the innocent routine down to an art, but Guileless Boy managed to look guilty every time, tugging at his black hair or fidgeting with his spectacles.

Draco tried not to worry. He decided it could not be dreadfully serious, as Potter's affection had not lessened at all. If anything, his enthusiasm continually shocked Draco. The Weasley twins had dived wholeheartedly into the "marital aides" industry and Harry had cheerfully acquired every variety of Salacious Salve they produced. Cinnamon, honey, pumpkin pasty, vanilla, and Harry's favorite--chocolate.

Potter had gone along with Draco's suggestion to make love in every room of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, and was busy plotting a way to make the owl-infested attic acceptable for that purpose. In the meantime, they had crossed off the parlour, the study, the kitchen, the library, and every bedroom but the Lupins.

Still, after a week of dealing with Harry's obvious attempt at being nefarious, Draco considered flying off to Malfoy Manor in a huff.

Harry's adamant insistence that he stay probably saved Draco's life, although neither of them knew it at the time.

Draco woke on the fifth day of June in a funk that quickly grew into something approaching depression. Harry had risen at some ungodly predawn hour, kissed him tenderly, and bolted. Draco had gone back to sleep for a while and when next he woke, a breakfast tray sat next to the bed. It was laden with hot tea, fresh fruit, scones, and jam. A bouquet of white roses sat next to the tray. A small card was propped against the marble vase.

It read simply, "I love you." Draco smiled softly. Potter did have his moments.

He drank his tea and went downstairs. Remus was bouncing Lyra on his lap in the parlour. The baby gurgled happily and flailed her fists in the air when she saw Draco. Lupin sighed and handed her over.

"I swear my daughter prefers you to me."

Draco laughed and pressed a kiss to Lyra's cheek.

"No, she just likes my hair," he said. One chubby hand was already wrapped in a hunk of platinum hair and Lyra tugged mightily. Draco winced.

"Now I remember why I cut mine short," Remus said.

"Where's Harry?" Draco asked, striving for nonchalance. He made nonsense noises to the baby and nibbled her tummy until she shrieked with giggles.

"I don't know. I thought he was with you," Lupin replied. Draco wasn't sure if Remus was lying or not, although why he would lie was unknown. He scowled. He was starting to see conspiracies everywhere.

"Tonks?" he asked.

"Out shopping."

"At this hour?"

"She said something about getting to the market first in order to get the best lobsters. I think she wants you to make your Lobster Bisque, or something." Well, at least that was plausible. Tonks adored Draco's cooking.

"Want to come to Diagon Alley with me?" Lupin asked. Draco looked at him in surprise. Remus had always been cordial, but he had never gone out of his way to spend any time with Draco. Lupin grinned. "All right, you caught me. I was hoping you would come along and occupy Lyra while I buy some potion supplies."

Draco smiled. Ulterior motives, he could understand.

Lupin's potion ingredient search turned into a long spree at the Apothecary, followed by a trip to Madam Malkin's, and then a stop at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Draco waited outside during these forays, entertaining the small one, who was on her usual angelic behavior in Draco's company.

Draco perused the window displays of several shops and considered buying himself something. He sighed, realizing the only thing he wanted at the moment was a bottle of red wine and a brandy chaser, both of which he always had directly shipped from the vintner in the south of France.

Tonks flew in and rescued Lyra shortly before the need for sustenance turned her into a tiny, screaming monster.

"Shall we have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, or go home and let Draco cook for us?" Tonks asked when Remus joined them. "I know which I prefer."

"I don't think Draco came back to Grimmauld Place in order to become our private chef," Remus said. Draco shrugged.

"I don't mind." In point of fact, he did not much care what he did, so long as the whole bloody day ended as quickly as possible. However, it was feasible Harry was home and, if nothing else, Draco could pick a fight with him and follow it with fabulous make-up sex. That would be present enough.

"Let's go home," he suggested. "I'll prepare something wonderful for Tonks." She smiled brightly at him and took his arm.

They landed in the street before number twelve. Tonks did not even have to think to cast an Obscuring Charm that shielded them from Muggle eyes. Draco could do it as well, but figured she needed to keep in practice. Her job required it more than his. Draco had added a permanent Glamour Spell to the house that shielded the front walk from Muggle notice, making it easier to come and go in groups.

As they approached the front door, Harry hurried out while Lupin and Tonks went in. Harry grabbed Draco and planted a kiss on his lips. He seemed to be fairly bursting with nervousness.

"What is it?" Malfoy asked.

"Don't kill me," Harry said and Draco groaned.

"Whenever you start a conversation that way, I know whatever you set in motion is already approaching epic proportion and killing you won't have the slightest effect."

"Er... well, you happen to be right, at least in this instance. Come inside and keep telling yourself that you love me," Harry said.

Thus forewarned, Draco entered the house. Harry ushered him into the parlour, bouncing like a golden retriever puppy. He grinned happily when a large assortment of people bellowed, "Happy birthday, Draco!"

Malfoy shot a sardonic look at Harry, whose duplicity was finally revealed.

"You've been planning this," he accused.

Harry nodded. "For days. Weeks, actually."

Draco had to smile. "I thought you forgot."

"I would never forget you birthday," Harry breathed. Draco would have kissed him, but for the crowd of people that hurried forward. Luna Lovegood arrived first and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"It's so good to see you again, Draco," she said warmly. "I'm sorry about that article we printed in the Quibbler stating you were eaten by nundus. It seemed the only plausible explanation for your disappearance."

"No problem," Draco said dryly.

"I invited Cho Chang, but she couldn't come because--"

"Because she would rather drink poison than look upon my face?"

"Well, yes, but she had a better excuse."

"I'm sure."

The Weasley twins attacked Luna with gleeful hugs, having just entered.

"Hey, Malfoy, mate!" one of them said. Draco had never bothered to try and tell them apart.

"We brought you a birthday present," the other said.

"'Course, it's partly for Harry," the first one added with a wink. They both laughed as one twin held up a shopping bag from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Draco grinned ruefully, but knew if the bag contained their infamous Salacious Salve he'd be blessing their evil little hearts, later.

"Thanks," he said sincerely.

Tonks hugged him and told him his present was in his room. Lupin actually gave Draco's shoulder a squeeze and handed him a wrapped gift. Malfoy began to feel self-conscious, but Harry's beaming face made him shut up and bear it.

He was astonished when Crabbe and Goyle sidled up, looking even more uncomfortable than Draco. Malfoy happily pounded each of them on the back. He felt guilty--it had been months since he'd seen them, even before his sojourn with Mulciber.

"You know you can have anything we got in the shop, mate," Crabbe said brusquely and then coughed and added, "You, too, Potter."

Harry laughed.

"That seems fair, considering I already bought half your stock at triple its value."

Goyle scowled and flexed his muscles, but Crabbe chuckled sheepishly. "You're right there, mate."

Harry looked at Draco with an expression that made him want to drag the Gryffindor upstairs, party be damned.

"It was worth it," Harry said.

Fuck it, Draco thought and threw an arm around Harry's shoulders. He pulled him into a kiss and chuckled when Fred and George Weasley whooped. Someone else clapped and Hermione said, "Finally." Draco deepened the kiss and felt Harry's hands move up to slide into his hair.

"All right," one of the Weasley twins yelped, "We're here to get foxed and eat all your food, not watch you two snog all night."

Draco felt a hand on his arm, dragging him away, and caught sight of a dazed and blissful-looking Harry before he was whisked to another part of the room. Bill and Fleur Weasley had arrived and Fleur planted a kiss on Draco's cheek. Their passel of children pelted through the room, grabbed several sweets from the table, and bolted upstairs to destroy several of Harry's knick-knacks and furnishings.

"'Appy birthday, Draco," Fleur said warmly and Bill shook Draco's hand. Of all the Weasleys, Draco had despised Bill the least; he had never seemed to hold Draco in the same contempt as the others.

"I bought you a new broom," Bill said with a grin. "The Vortex. New model. One of the perks of being Chief Auror." Draco was amazed. It was quite a gift. "We got an advance shipment."

An ale was thrust into Draco's hand by Hermione, along with a plate piled high with Draco's favorite foods--obviously another part of Harry's plot.

"I thought of a dozen ways to kill you, when you were gone," Hermione said conversationally.

"Mulciber nearly performed that task for you."

"Harry told me. And now I feel wretched for not trying hard enough to find you." Her brow wrinkled over earnest brown eyes and her mouth tightened. "We always seem to find it easy to believe the worst of you without bothering to look deeper."

"I'm used to it," Draco said lightly. He would prefer Granger drop the matter, and sought for a way to head her off.

"Well, it wasn't right. I mean, Harry would never have given up. He would never have quit without us--without me--convincing him. Even when he got your note, he swore it was a trick..." Hermione twisted a lock of her hair in a nervous gesture. "I told him... well, I said some vicious things. I convinced him that you had left of your own free will. I told him... to grow up."

Draco noticed with alarm that tears sparkled in her brown eyes. She went on, "God, the look on his face. I'm so sorry." She clutched Draco's arm tightly, nearly spilling the ale she had put in his hand. Draco was thankfully spared the impending scene of Hermione throwing herself on him and sobbing by the arrival of her husband. Draco had never been so glad to see Ron Weasley.

"I recommend no more wine for her," Draco suggested and Weasley actually grinned. He smacked Draco on the shoulder.

"Good to have you back, mate."

Draco's eyes narrowed. Though they had established something of a truce in the month prior to Draco's disappearance, Ron had never treated him so casually.

"No, I bloody well mean it," Ron added. "Harry was a right bugger with you gone. I nearly hexed him myself a few times. He didn't care whether he lived or died. Look at him now."

Draco's eyes moved to Harry, who was talking animatedly to Bill Weasley. Harry threw back his dark head and laughed, teasing a grin from Draco at the sight. Bloody hell, but the Gryffindor was even more gorgeous than Draco remembered. His hair curled over the edge of his white collar and obscured the tops of his glasses. It was only slightly mussed at the moment, and Draco itched to walk over and run his hands through it.

As if called by Malfoy's heated thoughts, Harry's gaze met Draco's and his grin widened into a smile of genuine pleasure. A hint of blush crept into Potter's cheeks and Draco found it difficult to breathe for a moment.

"Anyway," Ron continued, stressing the word, "It's good to have him back. Even if it means I have to put up with you."

Draco looked back at Ron. "Git."

"Prat," Ron replied.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco felt a hand touch his shoulder. Harry smiled at him.

"Want me to help you take your gifts upstairs?" Potter asked suggestively.

"Is Weasley an idiot?"

"N... that's supposed to be a yes, isn't it?"

"That's a definite yes, Potter."

Ron shook his head and muttered something about "lucky" and "birthday" and "hex... donkey ears" before strolling away toward Fred and George, pulling Hermione behind him. Harry sighed.

"Some things never change."

Draco smiled in bemusement, recalling Ron's words. "And some things do."

They each levitated a stack of packages and bags upstairs, tossed them haphazardly on the bed, and spent a full ten minutes snogging like starved beasts.

Harry finally pulled away, mumbling something about "duty to their guests" or some such nonsense, so Draco humored him and admired the gifts. He set a solid silver wand holder on the table next to the bed. Lupin's gift. Draco wondered where he had gotten it. He placed his wand on it and it gleamed darkly against the silver.

"It's similar to the one I had when I was younger," Draco mused.

"Perhaps Remus spoke to Crabbe."

"He probably bought it from Crabbe."

"At a ridiculously overinflated price," Harry said.

Draco laughed. "Probably."

The gift from Tonks covered the bed--new bedding in a fabulous pattern of green, black, and silver. Harry made a face.

"That really does not go with my décor."

"I think we need to change the décor. It's so... Gryffindor."

"I suppose we can change it to Slytherin green. For a while. In honor of your birthday." Draco peered into the bag of items from the Weasley twins and chuckled happily as he pulled out an earthenware jar.

"New salve! Look, there's a 'custom' sticker on it."

"They made it especially for you."

"Lime!" Draco breathed. How Potter had discovered Draco's favorite flavor was a mystery. He did not think even Crabbe or Goyle had that information. Draco cracked the lid and touched a finger to the pale cream before putting the fingertip to his tongue. It was both sweet and tart at once. He looked at Harry speculatively, but the Gryffindor backed away with a laugh.

"Later!"

Hermione had given Draco an assortment of rare potions and Ron had bought him some special broom polish. Draco had not expected anything at all from Weasley, especially not something he would actually use. Accompanying it was a rare bottle of brandy.

"I think Weasley is smitten with me," Draco said.

"Which one?" Harry asked absently, toying with Fleur's gift. It was a tricky puzzle made of interlocking, swirled pieces of wood.

"Ron. He gave me a gift. I haven't opened the brandy, so it may yet be poisoned."

"He's gotten used to you, finally. That month you spent together working on Malfoy Manor must have taught him that you were human, on the rare occasions you allowed him to see it."

Draco sniffed.

A ruckus sounded from downstairs and Harry sighed. "We've been up here too long. You know we can't leave the Weasley twins unsupervised."

By "unsupervised" Harry meant that he was the only one with a jot of a chance of controlling the twins if they got it into their heads to make mischief.

"I'll have to give you your gifts later," Harry said.

"Gifts plural?" Draco asked with a grin.

"Yes, gifts plural," Harry said with a chuckled, walking to the door. Draco followed.

"Does one of them involve salve?"

"As a matter of fact, it does," Harry said wickedly and danced away from Draco's grasping hands to thump down the stairs with a laugh. Malfoy hurried after him and nearly ran him down as Potter stopped short on the fourth step from the bottom.

The tableau that greeted them was one of tension. The Weasley twins, Tonks and Lupin, and Ron and Hermione were crowded into the parlour archway. Several Ministry officials were packed into the front hall with their wands out, ready for anything.

"Draco Malfoy!" someone standing before Harry called loudly, "You are under arrest for the Improper Use of Magic, Possession of Illegal Items, Willfully Administering possible Unforgivable Substances, and Dabbling in the Dark Arts." Draco did not recognize the wizard who spoke, but Dolores Umbridge stood next to him.

"Dabbling," said Draco. "I never would have suspected dabbling of being an arrest-worthy offense."

The wizard blustered, but Draco spoke over him. "Good afternoon, Minister."

Dolores Umbridge spoke in the simpering tone that had not changed at all over the intervening years since her attempted takeover of Hogwarts.

"Mister Malfoy. I'm quite surprised to see you here in company of this..." Her eyes flicked over Harry, "...sort."

Draco saw Harry stiffen and felt a quick surge of protectiveness. He well recalled how the bitch had loathed Harry in their fifth year. Harry's fists clenched and he took another step down. The blustering wizard actually stepped back, eyes widening. At least he was not foolish enough to want to take on the famous Harry Potter. Draco noticed another four wizards behind him--Umbridge's own personal guard, no doubt. They all looked competent. Draco joined Harry on the third step and let his hand slide gently up Potter's spine in a calming gesture. The last thing they needed was Harry unleashing his anger.

Draco said, "I shall, of course, come along peacefully in order to clear up this misunderstanding."

A dark-haired woman pushed her way past the others to stand by Umbridge. Her eyes flashed.

"Misunderstanding?" she hissed, raising her wand. "I'll show you a misunderstanding!"

Umbridge clamped a hand to the woman's wand arm, digging her pink nails into the flesh and succeeding in drawing her attention with a gasp. The wand lowered.

"Patience, Brigit. Mr. Malfoy has agreed to come with us. No need for unpleasantness." Bloody hell, Draco had forgotten the annoying timbre of her voice. Even though Draco had been a favored student during Umbridge's regime, he had never grown to like the woman. He had simply remained on the side of power, in the manner of all Malfoys before him. "Unless, of course, Mr. Potter chooses not to be as civilized."

The wizard that had previously spoken cleared his throat nervously. "Apologies, Mr. Potter, but you are also under arrest."

"For?" Draco demanded.

"Accessory to the charges against you, Mr. Malfoy."

"I see," said Draco. To Harry, he murmured, "Patience."

"I'll need to confiscate your wands," the man continued. Harry pulled out his wand, causing a flurry of motion from the gathered wizards. Draco nearly smiled; they obviously half-expected Harry to act like a loose cannon. Harry paused for a dramatic moment and then flipped the wand over in his hand with a casual toss and handed it to the wizard without a word. The others relaxed visibly; not realizing Potter was just as dangerous without it. Umbridge looked disappointed for a moment.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"Sorry, I don't have mine on me at the moment." He had left it upstairs in the silver wand holder.

"Come along, then," Umbridge said and gave Harry's friends a warning glare before turning and waddling out. Harry said nothing; he shot a searching look at Lupin, who nodded.

"I hate birthdays," Draco muttered and followed Harry as they left the house with the Ministry members falling in behind them.