Issues

Issues of love.

Consciousness brought with it a headache that threatened to split his head in two and aching shoulders from where his arms had been pulled roughly behind him and bound. For several moments it was all Harry could do to stay conscious and more than once his eyes fluttered to the back of his head making everything hazy. It was only Hermione's insistent voice harshly whispering, begging him to wake up that stopped him passing out altogether. That and the way she was digging her nails into his arm. Harry was sure he could feel the wetness of blood dribbling down the palm of one hand.

"Harry! Wake up!" Hermione was still urging him.

"I am. Shit," he said, groaning as he tried to free his wrists. The last thing he remembered was the door to the safe shutting as the red light of the curse came hurtling towards him. Fuck. How long had he been out? Who had cursed them? "What happened?" he asked as he continued to struggle.

"Coghill, who else?" Hermione replied, sounding disgusted. "Keep the noise down, though or he'll hear and come back."

Harry looked around, finding that they weren't in Snape's house as he'd thought. The room they were in was furnished like something out of the charity bin at the Salvation Army. Tattered square armchairs squatted on either end of an equally tattered grey couch. Apart from a dusty table that held a small television, there was nothing else in the room. He and Hermione had been tied back to back in the middle of the room, left sitting on threadbare carpet that looked like only the dust was holding it together.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" he asked. Surely Coghill wasn't down on his luck so much that he'd be living like this? Aurors earned a decent wage as far as he knew and Coghill hadn't been out of work long enough to have fallen this far.

"No, I don't."

"How long have I been out?"

"I have no idea." She sounded exasperated.

"Well, what do you know?" he bit out, trying not to lose his temper since it was hardly Hermione's fault.

"Only that I came to just as Fred and George Apparated into Snape's, obviously having tracked his magic. But Coghill grabbed us and the next thing I know, we're here. I'm sure they'll sound the alert but, unless we can escape, we might be here too long and miss Draco's court hearing."

"Fuck and damn it all to bloody hell," Harry exploded, struggling with the bindings on his wrists again. Futilely as it turned out. Harry had always known that Coghill was a competent Auror; these ropes would be well tied.

"Shit, Hermione."

"I know, Harry, I know." She shifted, getting more comfortable Harry assumed. "We need a plan."

"Like what?"

"Well if we can get him back in here and make him do magic again, maybe this time the twins could catch him unprepared."

Harry thought about it for a moment. It seemed as good a plan as any. He really didn't think Coghill would respond well to a polite request to let him go and take the memories and diary to Draco's trial and then promise he'd come back and willingly submit to whatever torture Coghill had in mind. He didn't think Coghill would respond well to demands in that vein either.

He also didn't think Coghill would be dumb enough to release them from their bonds.

Hermione's plan seemed to make the best sense. He nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Do you have any idea what the time is?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, but it must be just nearing dawn as I could hear some birds before."

"We've been out a while, then."

Harry was worried about Draco waking and getting ready for his trial and then finding out that Harry had been kidnapped. He'd worry about Hermione, too, but Harry was the one he'd worry about most. And fret over.

And that would only make him more anxious and stressed and less likely to make a decision to not fight the Veritaserum. Harry simply had to escape and if that meant goading Coghill into hexing him then so be it. He'd just have to hope it wasn't too bad and that Fred and George could fix him up in time to dash back to Snape's, collect the diary and memories and make it to the court in time.

Wait, what was he thinking about? The Portkey! If by some chance Coghill had left it thinking it was some innocuous key... "Hermione, can you reach into my back pocket and see if the Portkey is still there?"

He felt her slump behind him. "It's not. I tried that earlier, before you came around."

"Shit!" Harry's headache that had reduced itself to a mere thumping now returned in force, making him wince. "Let's get this over with, then." Time was ticking away and he was getting frustrated.

"Harry, wait, do you think we could push against each other and stand that way? Maybe we can then find something to cut these ropes with."

"Good thinking," Harry replied, kicking himself mentally for not thinking straight. Lucky one of them still had working brain cells.

Struggling to stand was no fun as too often Harry's extra weight forced Hermione to slip back to the floor. Eventually, they timed it right and got to their feet, Harry feeling jubilant that at least one thing had gone their way.

"Do you think we could break the window and use the glass to cut the ropes free?"

"What with?" Hermione replied.

"I'll break the bloody thing with my -"

Harry was interrupted by the sound of the handle turning. Before they could do anything the door was flung open and the bulky form of Coghill stepped through.

"Ah," he said, sneering as he took in their state. "The bloody wonder boy has chosen to join us. You really must have a weak head, Potter. I barely used any strength in that hex and you've been out longer than anyone I've ever used that on before. How the fuck did you manage to kill You-Know-Who?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Do you know how many times I've had to listen to scum reading me lists of what's wrong with me? Kind of like water off a duck's back now because I don't give a shit what you think." Harry knew he was being belligerent; he had to be. He needed Coghill to use magic.

Coghill's normally ruddy face was looking pale and tired, a sure sign of the stress he'd been under recently. If he hadn't been the one to take his frustrations out on Draco and if he hadn't been the one to make all the recent attempts on Harry's life, Harry might even have felt sorry for him. As it was, all he felt was relief. A tired Coghill was likely to make more mistakes than one who was well rested. "I used to think you were a good, solid Auror, Coghill."

Harry would have continued but the venom in Coghill's stare stopped him long enough for Coghill to spit his piece. "I was a good Auror. Until you decided that the blond was a decent piece of arse and put your dick before the people who helped you bring that maniac down."

"Good Aurors don't beat their prisoners to a bloody pulp just for the fun of it," Harry snapped back. He was going to ignore the jibe Coghill made about Harry thinking with his dick, because that was not how it had been. Not at all.

"He was nothing! Just some useless twat with a Dark Mark on his arm and a family that was darker than any of the rest of 'em. What did it matter if he earned himself a few extra bruises and scars? After what they did..." Coghill moved closer to them, waving his wand at Harry menacingly. Hermione cringed away from him and they stepped back towards the wall, Harry trying to push Hermione behind him.

He felt her hand momentarily squeeze his and barely heard her whispered 'good luck', but squeezed back as best he could.

"What did he do specifically, Coghill?" Harry taunted. "Parade around, flashing his Dark Mark, pretending to be proud of it?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, Potter, because in less than an hour from now your little boyfriend will be spending the rest of his life in Azkaban where he belongs."

"Not if I have any say in it," Harry growled trying to free his wrists again. Damn, goading Coghill with Draco wasn't getting him anywhere. And time was running out.

Coghill threw back his head and laughed. "You think you will have any say in it? You're tied up here, with nowhere to go and no way of escaping. It's been a long time coming, Potter, but I can finally give you what you deserve."

Harry was growing tired of these old clichés Coghill was throwing out. It felt like a badly scripted movie. The bad guy kidnaps the hero - and as much as he hated it, that was his slated role in this story - rambles on about revenge and how the hero will finally get his comeuppance, tells the hero exactly how he managed to carry out his evil plan and then lets the hero escape just in the nick of time to save the girl - er, Draco.

"Yeah, yeah, heard all that before, from someone I was a lot more scared of than you." Harry yawned, hoping that might egg Coghill on a little. "I doubt you could even hurt me."

That didn't seem to faze Coghill. "Oh, I will hurt you, but not yet. I want to put the radio on to listen to the hearing of that Malfoy scum and I want to see the look on your face when he is convicted. You know what they'll do to pretty things like that in Azkaban."

"No!" gasped Hermione from behind him. "Please, you have to let us go. Draco is innocent. He helped win the war; he didn't fight for the other side. Please..."

"Hermione," Harry warned. "This isn't about Draco anymore, it's about me seeing to the end of his career. He wants revenge on me, not Draco."

"Listen to him, Miss. I'm just sorry you had to be caught up in this. Never had a bad word to say about you. You got your head screwed on right most of the time."

"So, why not let her go, huh? She hasn't done anything to deserve this."

"It's really too bad, Miss," Coghill continued. "There are always innocent victims in war."

He really sounded like he believed they were at war, Harry thought incredulously. It was the first time he'd actually considered that Coghill might just have some mental illness. It was doubly important that he escape now; there was no way he could let Hermione be killed. No way.

"You, sir, are an arse," Hermione spat. A dignified spit to be sure, but scathing all the same.

This wasn't getting them anywhere and the time was running out quickly. Draco would be getting frantic that Harry wasn't there. So would everyone else and he'd bet that no one would remember to tell Draco he'd been kidnapped. He had to think of something!

"Tell us how you found us, then," he said to give him some time to think.

"Heard one of your lot talking over them communication things you had in your watch. Them twins are pretty clever. Figured them for the smarts for that."

Damn they did need to watch security, then. Still, unless he managed to get them all out of this, there would be no need for security, would there?

"Pity you can't do a wandless Patronus, Harry," Hermione whispered from behind him. "Then it could lead them here.

"I know," Harry breathed from the side of his mouth.

Coghill glared at them and dragged them both back to the middle of the room and forced them to the floor once more. Then left the room. Harry wondered if he was getting the radio, as there didn't seem to be one in the room already.

"Do you think that if I did some other form of wandless magic they might be able to trace that?" Harry asked, the thought having just jumped into his head and giving him hope.

"If they're looking for it, which I suspect they will be, and you could do something stronger than an Accio."

"Damn." Nothing was working!

Coghill returned and Harry could see that he hadn't been collecting the radio. He had in fact been making himself some food. Sandwiches were piled high on a plate that was being carried in one hand while there was a bottle of Butterbeer in the other. As Coghill stepped towards the couch, he gave Harry a swift kick to the ribs. Harry grunted at the unexpected attack, pain blossoming along several ribs.

Breathing heavily, he watched Coghill place his sandwiches on the table and then lower his large frame onto the couch. The man took a long swig at his Butterbeer and then let out a revolting squelchy burp as he took out his wand and waved it at what Harry thought was a television. Apparently, it was a wizarding radio transfigured to look like a television.

After that, things happened pretty quickly. Several loud cracks were heard and the room was quickly filled with armed people. Coghill made an attempt to fight back by raising his wand, but that was about as far as he got before being overpowered by one of the twins launching himself at Coghill. He got in the way of the rest of them firing off their own spells, but it made no difference. George, as it turned out to be, was able to wrest Coghill's wand away from him. From there it was an easy job to magically bind him.

Almost before Harry knew it his hands were freed and he could move.

"Sorry that took so long, Harry," Fred said apologetically.

"We missed him the first time," George added, handing Harry his wand.

"We will need to make some modifications to the spell," Fred continued.

"Don't worry about that now," Harry said. "There'll be time for all this later. Hermione, are you all right?" He looked to where Hermione was rubbing her wrists, still sitting on the floor.

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine. You go and I'll explain. Meet you at the court. Hurry!"

He barely noticed that Bill was there as were Remus and Tonks, though he gave them a brief smile as he Apparated back to Snape's.

.o0o.

When Harry arrived back at Snape's, he'd thought the only thing he'd have to do was to use his voice to open the safe again. He hadn't realised that the safe had disappeared after he'd shut it. Harry groaned; he had no time for this!

He wracked his brain trying to remember exactly how they'd found the safe. Hadn't some books triggered some sort of catch? But where? Which books? Could he use a revealing spell to show the safe? Or would he need to recreate it exactly? Distractedly he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

Randomly he began to pick up books and shove them back on the shelves, until he realised if he used his wand it might go faster. It did, but not fast enough and Harry was beginning to panic. What if he didn't find it again in time? Should he go chasing after Hermione and get her input? She would remember...

Just as he had resigned himself to the fact that he'd have to do just that, he heard the click in the wall and saw the little door slide open. The small brown door looked exactly the same with its fake lock and handle. "Oh, thank you God," he breathed in relief. "Harry James Potter," he called out loudly, giving a huge sigh when the door opened. He'd not truly feel safe until Draco was free and this whole nightmare behind him, but this at least was hope.

Harry stripped off his jumper, wrapped the vials of memories carefully in it and slid the diaries into his shirt for safety. Wishing he'd stopped long enough to find the Portkey Coghill had removed, he Apparated directly to Grimmauld Place and then stepped straight through the Floo to the Ministry.

In all the years that Harry had known about his fame, he'd never wanted to hex any of the well wishers for wanting to come and say hello or smile at him and shake his hand.

Until now.

When he stepped from the Floo, it only took one person to recognise him, loudly. The next thing Harry knew, he was surrounded. A sea of faces, smiling, with mouths that were working, saying things and making noises that Harry could not understand. No matter how much he protested and tried to make his way through them, they would not let him move.

He didn't want to hurt them but he had to do something!

Finally, in exasperation, he took his wand and raised it over his head calling out a spell that created a spray of fireworks and sparks.

"Will you all just STOP?" he shouted above the quieting din. This made them all shut up. "Please let me pass. It's a matter of life and death and if I don't get to the court immediately someone might die. Please?"

He must have sounded desperate, because they all looked shamefaced and moved aside.

"You go, young 'arry," someone called as he passed.

"You an 'ero, you is," someone else, a man with no teeth and a smile wide enough to be pinned at his ears, said. "Savin' someone again?"

"Something like that, yeah," Harry said as he quickened his pace to move past them all.

Once free, he ran to the lift, thanking whatever Gods there were that one was waiting for him. He ducked into it and punched the button for the lower level where the trial was being held. He prayed he was on time.

The hallway from the lift to the court room was strangely silent and menacing-looking and as Harry set off at a run he had the oddest feeling that it was like in a dream where you ran and ran but the faster you tried to run the slower you went. He told himself just to put his head down and run, which he did and shortly he found himself at the door and flinging it open.

Harry thought his heart might stop when he saw the scene inside the courtroom. Draco was chained to the seat in the middle of the room; he'd expected that, having seen the way that prisoners were treated in this room. He didn't even notice that there didn't seem to be an empty seat in the many rows of spectator seats.

The only thing he saw was Draco and the panicked look in his eyes. That and the court official holding his chin up in order to administer the three drops of Veristaserum.

"No!" Harry cried out, rushing toward Draco. From the corner of his eye he saw Arthur move forward and so he pressed his bundle of memories into his arms and yanked the diaries from his shirt as he ran past.

He was too late, though. Even as Draco heard Harry's voice and tried to move his head, the clear liquid dripped onto his tongue.

Harry ignored the voices of the Chief of the Wizengamot berating him for interrupting the session and Arthur for requesting some leniency as Harry had produced some evidence of Draco's innocence. All Harry could concentrate on was ensuring that Draco didn't fight the Veritaserum.

He pushed the official aside and grabbed Draco's face between his hands.

"Harry," Draco said. "I thought you weren't coming, and then..." he gulped, "and then I thought maybe you hated me and you didn't want to save me."

"Draco, stop," Harry insisted. "I just got caught up that's all. I promised to be here and I am here. I have the diaries, Draco, I have them."

Draco's eyes lit up for a second, and then went flat once more.

"Draco!" Harry shook him and then rested his forehead on Draco's. "Don't fight it." He was aware he was pleading but he didn't care who heard or saw. The only important thing was ensuring Draco came through this unscathed. "Please, don't fight it."

"Harry?" Draco's voice was wavering and afraid.

"I'm here," Harry replied softly, pressing his lips to Draco's forehead. "I'm here and I won't let them ask you anything you don't want to answer, I promise."

"Promise?"

Harry nodded. "I promise. Just please don't fight it."

"I don't know, Harry." Draco's voice dropped until it was barely audible.

"Draco, you can do it. Just think of what our future will be like when this is all over. We can be together properly."

"You'd still want that? After all I put you through?"

"Of course. Did you think I was just feeling pity for you all along?"

"I don't know. You could have been using it as a form of revenge once you knew how I felt about you."

"How do you feel about me?" Harry had to ask. He thought he knew but he had to ask. It might give him some indication as to how hard Draco was fighting the Veritaserum.

"Silly Harry." Draco smiled. "I love you."

"That's what I want to hear," Harry said, heart singing. He smiled and kissed Draco's lips. "Just don't fight it and you'll be fine, I promise."

Draco held his gaze for a long time before he blinked. "Harry?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"When all this is over, when I am back in my right mind, will you kiss me awake like Sleeping Beauty?"

"I will. Always."

Draco smiled and Harry knew everything would be all right.

"My very own Prince Charming."

Harry just smiled. He could be that.