Rating:
R
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter
Genres:
Mystery Slash
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 11/04/2003
Updated: 01/06/2004
Words: 40,796
Chapters: 17
Hits: 231,087

The Goodness of Their Hearts

Taratext

Story Summary:
Malfoy Security Inc. is hired when Chudley Cannons' star Seeker Harry Potter starts receiving disturbing letters.

The Goodness of Their Hearts 07

Chapter Summary:
Malfoy Security Inc. is hired when Chudley Cannons' star Seeker Harry Potter receives threatening letters.
Posted:
11/29/2003
Hits:
11,863
Author's Note:
New to the feedbackers (is that a word) are lauralai and Clemence. Thank you so much! And magical lionness, your anticipation intimidates me. There is no way my ending can live up to all that expectation.


Of course, the papers were full of lurid details about Potter's near death experience. Hyperbolic descriptions of the event itself, wild speculation about who was behind it, melodramatic predictions about future risks to the Boy Who Lived, and cold calculations about the impact Potter's death would have on the Cannons and professional Quidditch in England.

There were a flood of letters from fans and supporters, as well as a few anonymous howlers screaming at Potter that he deserved everything he got. There were reporters cluttering up the streets around Potter's block of flats and harassing his neighbours. Potter couldn't go to the market without getting mobbed.

Draco felt like a leech, the crowds forcing him to stay right next to Potter all the time. It was irritating and made it more difficult to keep an eye on their surroundings. And it seemed to add veracity to that other trend in the press, the one sparked by someone with no life of their own who had seen Potter and him alone in that pub. So of course there was now speculation, in those rags of even less respectability than the mainstream press, that he and Potter were engaged in wild, loud sex acts between death threats.

He should be so lucky.

The broom had been charmed as practise brooms were. No one seemed to find it odd that a game broom had been so charmed, as it had apparently happened before, just never to someone who had previously endured death threats. Lisa, who had been watching the brooms, swore no one had gone near them while she was there. Only the Head Coach had a key to the cage where the game brooms were kept, but it wouldn't be impossible to tamper with the wards, and charms could pas through locks and steel.

It was frustrating. Because if it was someone in the team or its staff, they were watching everything Draco was doing. And planning around it. And laughing. Bastard.

The Aurors had their own investigation as well, and it was equally fruitless. Spells to determine the writer of the original copies of the letters bounced back from the sheet. They discovered that the paper was actually Muggle, transfigured into wizard parchment. A Muggleborn Auror stated that the paper, called photocopy paper, was of a common brand found in stationary and office supply stores all over the country.

It was also used by the club. Photocopying fliers was cheaper and more efficient than reproducing them magically, and was an easy form of advertisement.

It all went nowhere. It drove Draco insane. He hated being incompetent.

That was why he crumpled Perona's latest report in his fist, placed the ball on the kitchen table at which he sat, and with an index finger flicked it across the room.

Potter leaned back against the counter, sipping coffee and watching Draco. "Are you supposed to reveal to your client that you're clueless?" he asked in a mild tone. "Seems kind of unprofessional. But then," he grinned, "so is getting your client drunk."

Damn it. Draco knew he was blushing. Though whether it was due to the effects of Potter's grin or shame at his behaviour, he couldn't be sure.

"It was just a fluke, Draco. Someone charmed the wrong broom. It happens."

"So what if it was a mistake? Don't you want someone fired for his idiocy? That mistake could have killed you."

"But it didn't."

"Where the hell is Granger?" She would pound sense into him. If she were there, where she was supposed to be.

"Uh." Potter seemed disoriented from the sudden shift in topic. "Transylvania. Her thesis has something to do with how vampirism mutates the more common sort of magic most wizards have."

"Her thesis?"

"She's going for a Master title in biomagical chemistry."

"Oh." That was it? No big argument, no great rift? "And the Weasel?"

Potter gave him a look but didn't jump all over him for the slur. "Ron works for his brothers. In their joke shop."

Ridiculous profession for wizards. "Why isn't he here?"

"Define here."

"Here!" The flat. At least somewhere around. "People are threatening your life!"

"People have been threatening my life since I was eleven."

"And he was there!"

"We were in school together! He's got his own life now. His job. He's married with a kid. Why should he be here?"

"He's supposed to be your friend." And he was a Gryffindor. He was supposed to know something about loyalty.

"My friend. Not my minder." Potter topped up his coffee before taking a seat at the table. "You've let Zimmer wind you up, Malfoy. There's nothing going on that hasn't been going on since I joined the team. You don't need to get so tense about it."

"It's someone on the team, Potter. That makes it..."

Potter's expression closed. "It is not."

"Or someone associated with the staff, but - "

"It is not."

"And it has nothing to do with romantic obsession."

"I really don't care what the motivation is, Malfoy."

"It helps us figure out who it is."

Potter let loose a groan. "I don't care, Malfoy! I'm tired of thinking about it."

"You never think about it!"

"Because it'll make me crazy and paranoid. Leave it alone."

Draco shut his mouth. The client had spoken. "Alright then, where's that girl?"

"What girl?"

"I saw you in here with a girl during your party."

"There were a lot of girls wandering around that night."

He had been trying to be delicate, because he had class. "The blonde tart you brought yourself off with."

"Ah." Potter grinned, and Draco nearly growled. "That was Julie. And she's not a tart."

That was a matter of opinion. "Why isn't she at least hovering around being girlfriendy and useless?"

"She's not my girlfriend. She's a ... mate with privileges."

"Ah." That rather disgusted him. He'd gone through that stage as a teenager, but at his age the idea of just fucking around indiscriminately struck him as juvenile and mildly repulsive. "A mate with privileges doesn't usually rise up such uncontrollable passion you have to get yourself off in the middle of a party. Especially your own."

"Not usually. But you see, there was this fabulous creature decorating my living room, sneering and drawling in this beautiful cultured voice that made me hard as a rock. It was either her or you."

Draco swallowed, wondering how he could be so outraged, flattered, and disappointed all at the same time. "It was never going to be me, Potter." The rasp in his voice made him sound less than convincing, and he knew it.

"Hence, it was Julie."

"Damn it, Potter, stop playing this game! It's ..." Cruel. But then, he really didn't have the right to expect consideration from Potter, not with their past.

"What, you prefer the direct approach?"

He couldn't be serious. It had all been teasing. Potter, realizing Draco had some perverse thing for him, tormenting him with it. That was all it could be.

But just in case it wasn't. "I don't fuck clients."

"Shall I have you fired, then?"

"I'm not going to be one of the motions you're going through."

Potter stared at him for a moment, looking amazed. Then he laughed. "Why, Draco, are you a romantic?"

"No. I'm a grown up. And I'm too busy to be screwing around with playboy broom jockeys."

"Even if you want to?"

"I don't want to." That was a lie, and they both knew it.

"Do you need to be seduced, Draco Malfoy? Careful steps, slow long touches? Love notes? Close dancing? Walks in the moonlight?"

"Do I look like a woman to you?" He should leave. For his own peace of mind. This sudden intensity from Potter was simply disorienting. There was a certain comfort and safety in dealing with indifference.

"Or maybe you need to be released of responsibility. You're a young guy, in charge of a high stress company. You're the authority figure for a large group of employees, and you watch over people's lives. That's a lot to be preying on your mind." Potter's voice dropped into a lower timbre as he spoke, looking at Draco with eyes that were unwavering and so so green. "Maybe it would be easier for you if I came into your room when you were deep deep asleep, hm? No one could blame you then. No one would think you're at fault. I could slowly draw the blankets from your body, so gently you wouldn't even feel it. My hands would slide so smoothly over your skin, you'll think it's part of your dreams. And while you're dreaming, I'll help you out of those fine satin pyjamas you wear and drag my tongue from your throat down your chest over your stomach and finally down over your cock."

"Stop it." He was getting hard right there at the table and he would not make a fool of himself.

"And then I'll stretch my lips around your cock and push them all the way up until they kiss your balls. Then I'll suck so hard you'll - "

"Stop it!" Draco shouted, jumping to his feet and pushing his chair over. "Why are you doing this?"

Potter rested his chin his palm. "You're pretty, Malfoy. And intriguing. I think I like you. And you're so tense. You need to relax."

"And fucking you will relax me?" he sneered, and swore at himself for sounding so breathless.

"Well, that depends on you, too. But I imagine we could have a good time."

"I'm afraid I'm a bit more discriminating about my lovers." And he had to get out of there. "Stop harassing me. And if you come near me while I'm sleeping I'll hex you."

Potter laughed, the asshole. And Draco almost ran to the toilet. Where he had to wank off. He didn't remember Potter being so articulate.

If he had any brains at all, he would bring in one of his staff to replace him. But he wouldn't. He didn't want to.