Fraternizing with the Enemy

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

Warnings:

This is, I guess now, considered an AU slash fic. It takes place post-war, and doesn't follow DH much at all. There will be some similarities, but there will be no Deathly Hallows.

Some characters in this story have been revived. I don't want to have emails saying "that's not canon, so and so is dead" or whatever. That's why it's now an AU fic.

This is a HP/DM slash. If you don't like it, don't read it =)

It's been a very long time since I've written anything, so forgive me. No, I won't be updating my old stories. I've given up on those long ago, so don't ask.

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After the incident earlier in the day - the headache and vomiting - Harry decided to listen to what his friends had told him and get some rest, regardless of where he was. Lupin and Ron had dropped him on the bed in the plain guest room, and left without a word. They were acting a bit off, but Harry realized he didn't care anymore.

Currently, he was lying on the bed, his hands behind his head, contemplating. He had to admit, he was damned curious about how he ended up here, and what Malfoy meant about 'fraternizing with the enemy'. Harry wasn't dense, and he figured out quickly that Malfoy had somehow learned that he was visiting one of his father's old Death Eater companions. Pride was telling him to drop it; the less he knew about why and how he had arrived here, the better off he was forgetting the situation and possible debt he owed the twit.

It was a stupid mistake, really. His years of Auror training, on top of his Hogwarts years, fighting for his life and against Voldemort, prepared him for anything. Well, it should have. But, here he was, recuperating from a ridiculous lapse in judgment.

Harry was only human. He still, at times, had moments of compassion for people. Even those running from the Ministry. Seeing that Death Eater, who had been running for nearly ten years, hiding in every farm, under every bridge, and eating out of dumpsters, had made him feel sorry. Most of the people thrown into Azkaban the past ten years were the ones who had made themselves known as murderers. Those who had been seen by Voldemort's side in the battles. Especially those who had killed other Ministry workers and their families, along with important figures in the Wizarding World.

His mind began to wander, as it did every so often. All the people who had died, not just defending he himself, but loved ones. Ginny Weasley, who had been so brave, countering every spell and hex. She just couldn't counter the killing curse. She had stood in front of her brother, Bill, who, at the time, was expecting his first child with his wife.

Dean, Luna, McGonagall - they had died heroes.

A slight pop brought Harry out of his thoughts. He was thankful for the distraction. A tiny house-elf was standing at the foot of the bed, his shoulders hunched and he looked plainly terrified. For a split second, his mind wandered to Kreacher - who had died a few years ago - and he gave the small creature a tight smile.

"Master says he wants you to have tea," the elf squeaked, quivering. "He says to not let Harry Potter decline, or he will burn Bitsy's feet."

Trust Malfoy to attempt to pull at his heartstrings.

"Fine," Harry sighed and slowly sat upright. Earlier, he'd taken a potion that apparently Malfoy had made, and his headache and nausea disappeared quickly. Still, he wasn't going to take his chances and start retching in Malfoy's presence again. "Lead the way, Miss Bitsy."

After taking the stairs at a decent pace, and following the elf to another room, apparently the library, he took a seat across from Malfoy without an invitation. Malfoy, who was lounging in his armchair, didn't seem to notice. In between the two of them was a small table, with a tray of tea on top.

"That will be all." Malfoy waved airily at the general direction of the house elf, who bowed and disappeared with another pop. He leaned foward and picked up the teapot, and poured himself a cup of tea. He didn't offer to pour any for Harry, which was fine by him. He wanted to see the blond drink it before he did.

They sat in silence for a minute, Harry studying Malfoy, while glancing around the room to make sure he wasn't about to be bombarded by ex Death Eaters. Malfoy drank his tea, re-lounged on his chair, and studied Harry right back. He broke the silence first.

"You got lucky," he said with his old drawl. There was a brief pang in Harry's chest, of what he wasn't sure, before it was gone and was replaced by the loathe he felt for the man.

"Sorry, but I don't see how luck had anything to do with you being friends with Archie."

Malfoy threw his head back and laughed. It wasn't the sneering laugh he'd heard in school, but it wasn't good natured, either.

"Friends? Potter, I've no friends." He sipped his tea again. "In case you've failed to notice, I'm monitored constantly by your people. I can't leave this bloody house without first asking permission." He glared at Harry over the rim of his tea cup, as if it were entirely his fault.

"It was either that or Azkaban, Malfoy," Harry said in a bored voice, leaning forward in his chair and pouring himself a cup. Then he looked up, and grinned a bit. "Surely you must remember that?"

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, but kept his face slack.

"You disgust me, Potter," Malfoy replied with a hint of anger.

Harry nodded at him, and raised his cup as if in a toast. "I disgust me too." Harry winked, trying to stay calm. He would not be the first to get angry. "Now," he went on before Malfoy could retort. The blond had looked confused momentarily; he obviously didn't expect Harry to say something like that. "I guess you're here to brag, or perhaps ask a favor of me? Because, you know, you haven't paid off your debt to me, and I'm not going back to the Ministry to ask them to lift the wards."

Malfoy was now becoming visibly angry. Harry grinned again, knowing he hit the nail on the head, so to speak.

"I saved your life, Potter," Malfoy spat out, sitting upright and slamming his tea cup on the table. He glared at Harry, his hair slightly messed from the sudden movement. Harry noted that Malfoy had let his hair grow out a bit longer, but nothing ridiculous like his father's.

"I appreciate -"

"You don't appreciate shit, apparently!" Malfoy forced himself to sit back, and take a few deep breaths to calm himself. "You were almost dead, and I helped you. Doesn't that count for anything? Saving the bloody Chosen Fool?"

Was he that desperate to get out from under the Ministry's nose? Harry bit back a smirk.

"Tell me how you found me. Maybe we can come to a compromise." Harry fought hard to keep his voice steady, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous this moment was in his eyes.

"You swear you will help me?" Malfoy asked, and it was obvious to Harry that he was hopeful. It may crush him if Harry lies now. Had Malfoy really come this far in the ten years since he'd seen him, to all but beg for help from him? The thought made him a little sad for the blond, but he quickly squashed that feeling. This was the moment he'd wanted back in school - to have leverage on the git.

"I"m not sure what all I could do, but I will certainly try, Draco," Harry answered, and he saw Malfoy's eyes narrow as he said his first name. "Now, onto business. How did you find me?"

Malfoy picked up a scone from the tray, and held it out to Harry, offering. Harry shook his head, declining, and Malfoy shrugged and bit into it. When he was done with his bite, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and took a sip of his tea. Harry sighed impatiently.

"Well, I hear things from the blokes that come and go throughout here. You know, " Malfoy sneered, "when they look for Dark objects unannounced."

"That was part of the deal, Malfoy," Harry waved his hand, dismissing the sub topic.

"And I've heard from other sources that you disappear for days, sometimes weeks, on end. I got curious."

"Aurors tell you I disappear?" Harry asked, a spark of anger in his chest.

"No, no," Malfoy grinned at this, taking another bite of his scone. "I've got one of those Extendable Ears."

Harry didn't know whether he should be more surprised at the fact that Malfoy owned a Weasley product, or that he eavesdropped on Auror conversation when he was so dangerously close to being thrown into Azkaban.

"I surely hope you aren't telling me that you are eavesdropping on Ministry's business," said Harry evenly. He had to give Malfoy credit, though, for being so carefree about that fact.

"Of course not." Malfoy's grin widened. Harry couldn't help but notice that it seemed a genuine grin for Malfoy. A bit odd, yes, and definitely mischievous, but something he'd never really seen. "Anyway, they shouldn't be discussing it in a known Death Eater's home."

"Get to the point, Malfoy."

Nodding, the blond leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table. "Two weeks ago, I heard them say again that you were gone. Only this time, " said Malfoy, who raised an eyebrow, "you didn't tell anyone where you were going. So there was some secret manhunt for you, though not very high on their list, because they seemed to believe you were vacationing. By the way, why doesn't the Prophet report your disappearances?"

"Continue your story."

"Fine." Malfoy shrugged. "I figured that maybe if I had found out where you were, I could get out of this mess,." He waved his hands around himself, indicating the near house-arrest he was on. "So I contacted Granger and had her meet me here. I told her what I'd heard, and she got, well, you know."

"Frantic?" Harry asked.

"Right. She left and I didn't hear from her for another few days. I figured they found you, so I forgot about it. But then last week Weasel came with Granger - really, Potter, did you have to put Weasel on your staff?" Malfoy raised his eyebrows, and Harry knew what the underlying message was. Without waiting for an answer, Malfoy continued. "He had gone into your office, apparently, and done what none of the other gits thought of, and searched your desk. He said you were on a lead from a secret source as to where Archie was hiding."

Harry shook his head. The story was uncharacteristic of either of his friends, much less Malfoy. "I don't believe any of the crap you're telling me, Malfoy. Ron, who despises you, and Hermione, gave you information as to where to look for me, whom you hate?"

"They were here this morning when you finally woke up, weren't they?"

Unable to come up with an answer, Harry remained silent.

"Luckily for all of us, " Malfoy continued cheerfully, pouring himself more tea, then pouring Harry some more. "I had received not too long ago an owl from Archie, who was always sucking up to my father back when he was here. He was asking for help, shelter and money I suppose, which I couldn't offer to him because of the damn wards and Auror visits. I wouldn't have offered him any of that anyway, " he said quickly, at the dark look Harry gave him. "After that, it was pretty easy to find you."

The story still didn't make sense to him. Malfoy's attitude was different - he seemed, well, not quite friendly, but friendlier. Harry guessed that ten years in near isolation would make anyone jump for conversation and niceties.

"Who found me?"

"I did," he said, his voice suddenly quiet. His face no longer had a grin, or looked cheerful. "I had to use Granger's wand, of course. But I managed to stupefy Archie before he even realized why I was there. By the looks of you at the time, I suppose I was lucky he was so quick to trust me. Weasel was very serious about nobody knowing where we were going, and that you were injured. So he managed to get me out of the house (Harry knew the wards wouldn't alarm headquarters if an Auror crossed the threshold with Malfoy), and he left Granger here, and we got you."

Harry let out a long sigh. He didn't want to admit it, but maybe he did owe Malfoy something in return for what he'd gone through.

"Then they contacted the werewolf when we got back, and, well, we did the best we could." Malfoy was still, keeping very quiet. He didn't let any emotion show on his face, however, and Harry really didn't care what caused the change in the blond's attitude.

"I'll find out what I can do for you, Malfoy." Harry stood up. "As soon as I get to work -"

"You can't." Malfoy shook his head. He had a dark look in his eyes that Harry hadn't seen before. "At least not now. The werewolf and the other two are looking for Healers that can look at you before they determine if you're okay. Archie is a dangerous person, and what he did to you was horrible, even if you did deserve some of it, " Malfoy sneered slightly, and Harry knew he was referring to the time in their 6th year when Harry had hit him with that nasty spell. "They just want to make sure you weren't cursed with anything. I mean, what good would you be to me if you died? Especially if you died in my home?"

An uneasy silence fell over the two of them. Malfoy was obviously doing all this for his own personal gain, but Harry didn't care much about that. What concerned him was the fact that he very well could have been cursed. He'd been an Auror long enough to see what some curses and Dark magic did to people. This was why it was required to go on these manhunts with a number of Aurors, but Harry didn't care. He never liked working with others, only because if they died, their death would rest on his conscience for the rest of his life.

"Do you, er, have any firewhiskey?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. A drink sounded good right about now.