Draco and Harry: Escorts in Exile

Chapter Six

Harry left Draco asleep after planting a soft his on his temple and touching the platinum hair gently. Malfoy murmured and a smile curved his lips for a moment as Harry tucked the blankets around him. A glance at his watch showed it to be just past noon. Harry was starved. He didn't recall eating anything the previous day. Draco was probably hungry, as well.

Of course, Harry was shite as a cook, so he didn't even try. Instead, raided the pantry and found enough ingredients to make a haphazard sandwich, which he wolfed down while drinking copious amounts of scalding tea. An owl had dropped off the Daily Prophet at the front door. He walked down the hall to pick as he stuffed the last bite into his mouth. Mustard dripped onto his chest and he swiped at it absently with a finger as he opened the door.

He Summoned the paper rather than bend down and risk spilling his tea, but he nearly dropped the mug anyway when he saw the headline.

DRACO MALFOY ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN

Convicted felon, Draco Malfoy, son of notorious Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, escaped from Azkaban in the early hours of the morning, assisted by an unidentified wizard. The prison is guarded by dementors and it is unknown how the prisoner and his accomplice managed to disable the alarms and bypass the dementor guards. Herbert Ledbetter, a clerk at the prison, was awakened by the sound of a lift in the middle of the night and went to investigate. "I was near knocked down by the bloke!" Herbert states, "Dark haired, he was! He was rushing for the doors--I never saw Malfoy, not since the day he was brought in." Herbert was Stunned before he got a good look at the man. The unknown wizard had to be very powerful, according to Azkaban officials, to disable the alarms and hexes on the main doors. Draco Malfoy had been sentenced to seven years in Azkaban recently for administering an illegal potion to an Irish witch whose name has been withheld by the Ministry of Magic. Malfoy had been working with Harry Potter at the time of the trial. Potter is currently being sought for questioning regarding Malfoy's escape and possible whereabouts.

Harry snorted. Sought for questioning. They might just as well have printed, "Harry Potter broke Draco Malfoy out of Azkaban." Everyone would jump to that conclusion after reading it, anyway. He tossed the paper on the kitchen table and piled a tray high with various foodstuffs. After adding a pot of tea, he carried it back to the bedroom. He set it next to the bed and climbed back under the blankets to cuddle with Draco until the Slytherin decided to wake up.

ooOoo

Draco felt something tickle across his chest and snapped awake in a veritable panic. His mind screamed dementor! Before he could scramble away, a warm body stirred against his, quelling the need to flee and bringing him back to reality. He was no longer in that godforsaken place. Thanks to Harry.

Harry moved again and his hair brushed over Draco's chest again. Draco tightened his grip on the Gryffindor, earning a soft oofing sound. The head tipped back and bright green eyes met his. Harry smiled and Draco slid down for a kiss.

"You must be starved," Harry commented.

"Hell, yes."

Harry crawled out of bed and poured some tea while Draco availed himself of the lavatory. He could hardly wait to climb into a hot bath. When he returned to the bed, Harry set a tray across his lap and fed him bites of fruit, cheese, meat, and pastries in between kisses. Draco would have shoved the tray aside and feasted on Harry, instead, but the Gryffindor would not allow it.

"You need to eat. What did they feed you in that place?"

"I don't know, but it did not resemble food."

"If it's any consolation, Lupin, Tonks, and I nearly starved without you."

Draco laughed. "One of you needs to learn to cook."

"No, I think we'll just keep you around."

"How do you propose to do that, now that we're fugitives?" Draco asked.

Harry looked uncomfortable. "We can move."

"Budapest?" Draco asked archly.

"Well, maybe not there. Somewhere nice. How about the islands?"

"Which islands?"

"Bermuda."

"You would go stark raving mad living in paradise, Potter, and you know it. You can't survive without a challenge. Think about it. No more Dark Magic to battle; no Death Eater enemies crawling out of the woodwork; no one to save."

Harry scowled. "I could become a lifeguard."

"And have people pretend to drown day in and day out, just for the chance to grope your body? I think not," Draco griped.

Harry laughed. "You're jealous of potential drowning victims?"

Draco ignored that disdainfully. "It doesn't matter, because we're not moving to Bermuda."

"Jamaica?"

"We're staying here, Potter."

"Here, here?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Here in Britain. I'm certainly not going to remain in hiding, though, no matter how attractive the prison. Or the company."

"What do you propose we do, then?"

Draco leaned back after fluffing his pillows against the headboard. He propped his hands behind his head.

"We could take on the Ministry."

Harry stared at him in shock for a moment, and then laughed.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, for a minute I thought you were serious."

Draco grinned widely.

"I am serious."

Harry's chuckles choked and died. He scowled. "How do you propose we do that?"

"I'm not sure, yet. I'll have to do some planning," Draco admitted. Harry flung himself out of bed with an oath.

"We can't take on the Ministry, Draco," he said. "It's bad enough they're hunting us! Kingsley, Tonks, Bill, Susan--what would you have us do, fight them?"

"Harry, Harry, Harry. You're thinking like a Gryffindor. It's not always about confronting danger head on."

"You mean to beat them indirectly? But how?"

"We don't have to beat them at all, Harry." Draco let his eyes slide over Potter's mostly naked form and began to plot how to get him back into bed. It usually wasn't difficult. "The problem... is Umbridge. Once we get rid of her, we can petition for another trial, hopefully expose Maeve for the bloodthirsty witch she is, and clear my bloody name. You know as well as I that the worst I should have received is a hefty fine." He waved away Harry's protest. "Yes, I know, a very hefty fine. And reparations to sweet Maeve. All of which I would have done."

"What do you mean by 'get rid of'?" Harry asked. "Leave it to the Gryffindor to pluck the only potentially lethal word from the bunch.

"Do you want me to be honest, or sugar-coat it?"

Harry glared. "I really hate it when you do that. You are not going to kill Dolores Umbridge."

Draco said nothing, he just cocked a brow at Harry, who yanked at his hair in his usual manner. Draco gave him an appreciative look--a very appreciative look--and Harry waggled a warning finger at him.

"Don't try and distract me."

Draco smiled wickedly. "All right. Let's look at this logically. The Ministry has been utterly useless since the panic surrounding the war. They lost control of the Floo Network, they passed a load of tripe laws trying to regulate everything under the sun, they sealed off London--and all of that while under Scrimgeour's rule. How much worse do you think it will get with that psychotic woman in control?"

Harry nibbled on a nail, unable to comment because Draco knew he'd heard the stories. Tonks kept them apprised of the affairs at the Ministry and the insidious changes made by Umbridge. The Minister had a hand-picked group of Aurors loyal only to her, rather like her Inquisitorial Squad at Hogwarts. Their primary job was to cover up incidents that Umbridge wanted buried, and ferret out information on those the Minister wanted discredited.

There had been several mysterious accidents among Ministry officials who opposed Umbridge, including Rufus Scrimgeour. Rumors abounded that directly before his death, Scrimgeour was initiating an investigation into abuses of power, with Umbridge as a prime suspect. There had been hope that she would be fired.

However, the unthinkable had happened. Scrimgeour had been killed in a freak accident on a routine job when the building he was in collapsed. One of the Aurors with him had been killed instantly and the other had later died at St. Mungos. Umbridge, as Deputy Minister, had assumed control.

Since then, officials less than enthusiastic about Umbridge's policies had been demoted, fired, or handed unpleasant task after unpleasant task. The most outspoken of her opponents was Kingsley Shacklebolt, but even Umbridge dared not take him on with the large percentage of Auror staff loyal to him. Instead, she had been steadily eroding his power and downsizing his department, citing a lack of need for Aurors now that most of the Death Eaters were dead or in Azkaban.

"How badly will she want us, Harry?" Draco asked seriously.

Harry sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know. She hates me because I defied her as a child, and now I've defied her again. I think it's safe to say she will want me very, very badly."

"Well, that's something I have in common with Umbridge, then," Draco said huskily.

Harry turned and his eyes went soft and liquid. He crawled across the bed in a slightly predatory fashion and planted himself on Draco's chest. Harry's tongue drew across Draco's nipple, earning a gasp. Draco felt a twitch of arousal. He slid his hands over Harry's back, reveling in the feel of the smooth skin and corded muscles. Harry groaned softly and encircled Draco's nipple again, tracing circles around the areole before sucking on it gently.

Draco's cock twitched again. Damn, but the Gryffindor was sexy. Harry worked on the other nipple for a bit, until Draco tucked his fingers into Potter's thick hair and squeezed. Harry moved up and took Draco's lips hungrily. Their mouths melded together and they drank deeply of each other for long minutes.

Harry's head rose and he looked at Draco with that bemused, well-snogged daze on his face that Draco loved. Potter tried to speak but could not find his voice for a moment. His lips were parted and wet--flush with Draco's kisses. Draco ran a finger over Harry's lower lip and Potter's tongue flicked out and touched it gently. Draco shut his eyes, nearly overwhelmed by the sudden rush of want.

Harry tried again. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Later," Draco whispered, but Harry chuckled.

"No, I might forget, and it's simple. Malfoy Manor is located at number 1, Malfoy Lane, in Wiltshire."

Draco grinned in bemusement. "I know that, Potter."

"Now that makes two of us."

It took a moment for Draco to process it, and then he laughed aloud.

"You didn't."

Harry nodded. "I did."

"Oh, Umbridge will not stop until she's turned over every bloody stone in Britain to find you." Draco paused. "How safe are we here?"

"As far as I know, we're the only two that know you own this flat. I've never brought anyone here, nor told anyone about it. You?"

Draco thought back. Had he ever had guests here? Hell, he couldn't remember being in it himself more than eight times.

"No, I don't think so."

"I'll cast another Fidelius, if you think we'll need it."

Draco shook his head. "I can think of better things to do with your time, at the moment."

"Oh really?"

"Absolutely. Starting with you getting up and drawing me a nice, scalding bath."

Harry reared up on his elbows hotly. His green eyes flashed and Draco grinned.

"After which, you can join me and let me shag you senseless," he said in a low voice. The fire in Harry's eyes changed--banked to molten embers. "And then you can do the same to me."

Harry groaned and kissed him again.

"I might be able to do that. With one revision," Potter said.

"Mmmm?"

"Not scalding."

"Nearly scalding?"

"How about just warm?"
"Hot?"

"Oh yes, you're very, very hot. Extremely hot."

Draco chuckled and kissed Harry again while sliding his hands over the Gryffindor's body. If Potter kept that up, Draco would never get his bath. He bit Harry's lip gently.

"Bath, Chosen One."

"I think you can draw your own bath, you lazy prat. Just don't make it too hot if you want me to join you. I need to fetch something."

Harry climbed off of Draco and went to the door. Draco exited the bed with a sigh, resigned to filling his own bath. He would wait until Potter was in the tub to raise the temperature.

"Fetch what?" he asked on his way to the bath.

"The lime Salve. For after our bath," Harry said suggestively.

Draco decided that being trapped in the flat with Harry forever would not be all that bad.