Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He stared down at the directive on his desk. Stamped with the official DoM Ministry logo, and signed by the boss he’d yet to meet in person. The direction was clear, it was a straight forward, and typical request to the DoM to assist a patron with an artifact.

No, it wasn’t the request that was overly complicated. After all Harry Potter was the Ministries singular Parselmouth, in fact, it was believed that he was one of potentially only a handful of parselmouths in the world still.

No… no it wasn’t the request that was the problem.

It was who the request required his assistance for.

He leaned back in his high backed chair, and closed his eyes. His chest constricting tight, the rush of cold shame through his body a chilling reminder of the last relationship he’d been in that had systematically broken his heart.

He’d not fully recovered, no matter what he told his friends. Harry rather thought they knew better to ask anymore when he was going to start dating again; they’d been there when the date that should’ve been his anniversary passed. It hadn’t been one of his finer moments.

The smell of firewhiskey still upset his stomach.

Unspeakable Potter,

Your unique skills have been requested with the aid of assisting a family with an ancient artifact. The artifact in question is a small box that was recently discovered in a Pureblood families vault.

We’ve ascertained that the request is genuine, and the artifact has been reviewed for any curses, as well as any latent magic that might be otherwise harmful. At this time, no dark magic has been identified.

However, we’ve been able to identify that the box cannot be opened with any of our current unlocking spells, charms, or incantations. It is believed that it might be beneficial for you to attempt speaking with the box.

Enclosed you will find several monographs and photographs of the box.

We apologize for the delay in getting this request to you. Unfortunately, it was delayed due to the patronage of the family in question. The Auror department investigated the object, before we were able to release the request to the appropriate handler for assistance.

Please review the attached information that the Level 3, Magical Artifacts DoM obtained in their investigation.

Once you have properly acquainted yourself with the object, please contact the individual below and set up a time to begin working on the artifact.

With Respect,

Head Unspeakable X. X. X. Y. 001.

Patron Request:

Draco Abraxas Malfoy

Location: Malfoy Manor

He looked at the date on the stamp located on the outside of the request, as well as the stamp on the original request and noticed that it had come in while he’d been dating Draco.

He closed his eyes, and let the feelings wash over him.

No, he rather thought he wasn’t ready for this particular request.

Not ready at all.

~~**~~

He sat on the official request for a week. Ostensibly using the excuse that he wanted to review the research that had come with the request, as well as some preliminary research of his own.

But his excuses dried up when he ran out of material, and he could describe not only the artifact, but also knew intimately what it likely needed in order to be opened.

• The artifact was a small jewel encrusted box, no more than 13 centimeters wide, 3 centimeters deep, and 7 centimeters from front to back.

• It was made of ancient oak, and the primary precious stones that were used were emerald, ruby, sapphire, and citron.

• There were two snakes that were wrapped around the box. One that overlay the top of the box, the head of the snake was laying over the top of the locking mechanism. The second one was wrapped around the outside of the box, and the tail and head also met over the locking mechanism.

• Both of the snakes were made of precious metal, one in pure silver, the other in pure gold.

He’d looked into the artifact and had a reasonable assumption that it was from the Slytherin Dynasty, and the Malfoy family had likely been in possession of the box for at least two hundred years, though it was presumably lost to the bowels of one of their vaults for the vast majority of those two hundred years, as the records regarding the box all but dried up shortly after Draco’s seventh great grandfather had come into ownership of it through a Last Will and Testament of Sylvan Slytherin.

All these facts were running through his head as he stood on the outskirts of the large manor house that he hadn’t seen in 11 months, 17 days, and he looked at his watch 9 hours and 13, 14, 15, seconds…

He had desperately had to argue with himself not to drink himself senseless before he had apparated to the manor house.

If he followed protocol, used all the information at his disposal, he would likely be in and out of the manor in less than an hour.

He would remain professional, polite, and would aim to get the job done as efficiently as possible.

It would be best for both of them.

He placed his hand on the large gate, and was shocked when it let him through without his requesting to come. Though he rather assumed that it had more to do with the fact that he’d sent a letter to the Manor two days prior advising that he would be coming to assist with the artifact.

He’d received a response, but it had come from Thaxis the ancient house elf that ran the manor and all the guests that came and went.

His heart jolted hard in his chest as he crossed the threshold of the wards, and for one moment he absolutely pondered leaving and advising his leadership that he simply wasn’t able to complete the request.

But his feet continued up the path, and with them, he worked on placing up all his mental shields, warding the wall around his heart, and breathing deeply in and out in order to calm his racing heart and sweating palms.

The door swung open as soon as his foot reached the bottom of the seven marble stairs that lead to the large entryway. Thaxis stood there in all of his proud refined glory, and for a moment Harry felt himself smile, before he noticed that the elf no longer held soft eyes for him.

The look in the large teal blue eyes was stern, firm, and cold.

Much like they’d been in the first months that he’d began courting Draco.

His heart rolled heavy in his chest, and his stomach dropped.

“Thaxis, thank you.” He said, his voice hoarse but professional, and he followed the silent elf into the foyer.

“Master is in the library. You will follow me.” The ancient elf stated, and walked in front of Harry, as if Harry wasn’t intimately aware of where the library was, as if he wasn’t aware of nearly ever excruciating detail of the manor in which he found himself in on a cold December day.

He followed the elf silently, trying to will away the sudden overwhelming urge to cry.

No.

He wouldn’t give Draco the reward of seeing him so broken.

Harry rather thought that he would put in a week worth of vacation as soon as he got back to the DoM, and he’d spend it wallowing in his cottage. Then he could let loose all the pain that seemed to be still so raw and unhealed in him.

Thaxis stopped in front of the large double doors that led to the library, and with a last long and accusatory look, he vanished with a soft pop, and Harry steeled himself before knocking twice and pushing the door open.

The library was warm and quiet, as he closed the door behind him he turned and noticed that Draco was standing by the fire, with a glass in his hand, having not looked up to see Harry enter.

“It is on the desk.” The blonde man said, and Harry felt a rage rush through him at being so summarily dismissed, before he pushed it down. If the man didn’t want to look at him, then it would make it all that much more easy to complete.

He took a long, deep breath, and walked over to the large oak desk at stood proud at the end of the library in front of a bank of windows that looked out over the garden.

The box stood in the middle of the desk, and Harry noted that it was far more beautiful in real life than any photo or mono graph could’ve done justice.

He cast a few diagnostic spells, cursory, simple spells to make sure that no curses had been added, no other spellwork had been placed on the artifact since the previous team had looked at it, and when they all came back clean – he placed his wand in his holster, and took a deep steadying breath before he sat down and looked at the two utterly fascinating and stunning snakes that were coiled tightly around the box.

”Hello,” he hissed in greeting, and was pleased when the snake that was laid atop the box, lifted her cold black onyx eyes at him and stared.

”I have come at the request of the Lord of the Manor, and the Master of the Ancient Family of Black and Malfoy.” He continued, and when the second snake lifted their head, he noticed that it had startingly perfect diamond eyes.

Both snakes looked at him, and he couldn’t help the smile. They were truly a beautiful pair.

”What might I call you?” he asked. Sensing rather immediately that this wouldn’t be a simple request for the two magical creatures to open their lock. Something about the artifact screamed ancient magic.

The two snakes looked at one another and then back at him. Without opening its mouth, the silver one spoke to him,  “I am What Has Been.” It stated, and then the gold snake spoke without moving its mouth, ”And I am What is To Be.”

Harry nodded. Yes, that seemed more like it. Something about these creatures were wise in a way that he’d not encountered since the Slytherin Viaduct under Hogwarts almost a decade previously.

”You are both beautiful. You protect a beautiful artifact.” he hissed. It was an impossible truth. He’d rarely seen anything as intricate and utterly artfully crafted in his life.

He heard a rustle of fabric across the room, and though he feigned fighting it, he looked up and caught Malfoy staring at him from across the room. Meters separating them, but it felt like miles. Like they were further apart than they’d been in their life.

The man was unmistakably beautiful still. He looked fragile with the firelight playing along his porcelain skin, but to Harry he was still as hauntingly gorgeous as he’d been the night that Harry had placed the formal request to court him.

His breath caught for a moment in his throat, unable to stop the rush of feeling that came with the memory that he’d pushed down with all the others from their time together.

They’d celebrated six months together, and he’d decided to officially follow the pureblood ritual of courting. He’d made the correct contract, had set up the dinner, and had went on his knee to request Draco to allow him the honor to court him.

That night had been a practice in magic. Draco crying tears of ecstasy in bed, the moonlight playing a symphony on the man’s pale soft skin, as Harry tasted him for the last time, as they committed to the year of courting to come. Where no sexual intimacy was allowed.

He tore his gaze away from the steel grey eyes that were cold and unfeeling, staring at him with none of the emotion that Harry knew the man was capable of.

It took all of himself to pull himself back from the edge.

He wanted to beg, to plead, to better understand what had happened.

Why he hadn’t been enough for the man.

His felt the crushing weight of rejection wash over him, and he took two shattered breaths to calm himself before he opened his eyes again to look at the two beautiful creatures that were staring at him expectantly.

The master of the house would like for you to allow the box to open, would you be willing to do this? he said after a moment. It felt like the wind had been taken from his lungs, but he would do anything for the man, no matter how they ended.

Draco Malfoy, so far as he was concerned, deserved the world.

He could hear Ron in the back of his head, cursing the blonde man, explaining that Harry deserved better than someone that would allow an entire courting ritual to take place and then break it off the night before the final gift and expected proposal.

He could hear Hermione murmur that even if it was going to work between them, finding ones courted in bed with another person was enough that Harry was allowed to be upset.

But, even though Harry understood all of this, and he did… it didn’t stop all the things that he knew. Draco was a broken man, who grew up in a broken home.

He sighed as he came back to himself, reflecting momentarily on the way the two metal creatures looked at him with knowing blind eyes, before the silver one whispered,  We can only open when the past is over. The gold snake moved its head to the side and then continued, And when the future is waiting expectantly.

He felt a bubble of laughter rise up in himself before he stopped it. Hermione had always been the one for the riddles. But it made since that nothing from Slytherin would be easily gained without some level of intellect.

Harry leaned back in the chair, and closed his eyes, attempting to better understand what the creatures required.

The past over? The future waiting expectantly? Wasn’t the past always over? And the future was there whether one wanted it or not… he was certain of that.

“What is the problem, Potter?” he heard the familiar drawl, and the punch in the gut was expected but no less comforting when the man chose to use his last name rather than his first. Of course he would revert to previous patterns. They were no longer familiar anymore, they were no longer anything to one another.

He felt himself wince at the realization before he schooled his features again, and opened his eyes.

“There is a riddle. I am attempting to figure out the right question to ask them, in order to better understand what they require.” He could admit to himself that he was rather proud with how firm but soft his voice was in response. Professionalism winning out against grief.

No, the grief could wait until he was back home, safe, and drowning in the bottle.

“Riddles were never your thing. They were always Grangers.” Draco responded, and Harry wouldn’t help the choked laugh.

“I had just thought something similar.” He replied, keeping his eyes closed, as he continued to postulate on the riddle proposed.

Something snagged in his mind, and he leaned forward, ignoring the fact that the other man had moved closer to the desk while he’d been in thought. Not quite all the way to the desk, but he was no longer clear across the other side of the room.

“Tell me, is not the future always waiting. And the past always behind?” his voice slithered over his lips and down to the two beautiful snakes that were looking at him with a blank sort of expectancy.

The gold snake answered first this time, and Harry had to smile at the petulant response, The past is only behind if it has been left there. But the future is always waiting for those that desire it.

“What is the riddle, perhaps I can help so that you can get this over with sooner.” Malfoy said, and Harry almost felt himself break. He’d wanted to be done quickly too, but it didn’t help hearing that the other man wanted him gone as much as he wanted to be done with the situation.

Harry was the one that had made to deal with the broken heart after all.

He looked up but didn’t look into the grey eyes that he’d learned to love so easily, he stared past the man into the fire.

“The silver snake’s name, is ‘What has been.’ The gold snake’s name, is ‘What is to be.’ When I asked them if we can open the box for the master of the house, the silver snake answered, ‘We can only open when the past is over,’ and the gold snake continued, ‘And when the future is waiting expectantly.’ When I followed up and stated that the past is always over, and the future is always waiting, the gold snake spoke, ‘The past is only behind if it has been left there. But the future is always waiting for those that desire it.’”

He leaned back and summoned the papers from his pocket, and enlarged them. Looking into the history of the artifact, and trying to ascertain the best means forward to answer the creatures.

“Don’t worry about it Potter. I understand the riddle. No need to complete it. You are free to leave.”

The sudden dismissal took the breath once again out of his lungs, and he looked down at the two creatures, and then for the first time since he entered the library up and into the eyes of the man that he’d loved so fiercely and lost.

“What? Why? I imagine that the riddle is tied to the nature of the box. Being that it is Slyth-“

“You are dismissed. The request will be revoked, and I will inform the ministry that you were able to ascertain the means to open the box, fulfilling your objective.” Malfoy said, and with that Harry swallowed the rest of his speech, and stood to leave.

The was no way he could stop the cascade of ice cold shame and discomfort at being summarily dismissed. It pooled in his gut, and left him feeling wrong footed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he said, even as he moved to gather the papers that he’d just begun to spread out and shrunk them again and placed them back in his pocket. Along the icy cold feeling of shame, was something he’d not felt since Hogwarts, the rise of something far more hot, and far more dangerous.

Anger.

“Nothing is wrong with me. You aren’t needed here anymore. You’ve done your job. Now leave.” Malfoy said again, and he snapped his fingers, summoning Thaxis, “Show Potter to the door and make sure he leaves through the wards.”

Thaxis nodded, and he stared his baleful eyes at Harry who felt an incandescent rage unlike anything since the night he’d faced down Voldemort.

“You bastard. You are the one that cheated on me!” he erupted, his body moving so that the elf didn’t use his magic on him, but he would make sure that he was heard before he left the manor and never returned. “You are the one that fucked a woman in your bed the night before I completed the courtship. So fuck you, you disingenuous pathetic bastard. You don’t get the right to treat me like this. I wasn’t the one that broke promises.” He walked past the ancient elf, and the blonde man that was looking at him with a face that feigned confusion, and shock.

He reached the door, and turned back. “I won’t apologize for being foolish enough to love you. But don’t you ever forget, you broke my heart. So fuck off with your righteous pureblood bullshit tone. I’m done. If you need help with the artifact in the future. There are parselmouths in Malaysia and Turkiye. Goodbye, Dra…Malfoy.”

And with that, he closed his eyes against the wave of sensation that was coalescing throughout his body, he stormed from the premises and with a goodbye to Thaxis, who had never deserved mistreatment, he apparated out without waiting for a response that he knew the elf would never give him.

~~**~~

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 – Isolation, Family, and Moving On

His vacation was surprisingly quickly approved, and inside 24 hours he was holed up in his cottage that he normally went to in the summer months for a few weeks, on the outskirts of County Cork. His wards were locked tight, a letter sent to Hermione and Ron that he’d explain his absence in a weeks’ time, but that he’d had to face Malfoy and he needed time to process. With a kitchen full to bursting with food, and alcohol plenty, he sent in for a wallow.

The grief was so strong, so cataclysmic that he oscillated between being unable to breathe, and screaming into the silence of his well warded home. The walls absorbing the pain and rage that moved through him in waves.

It was unconscionable the way that Malfoy had treated him. He hadn’t been the one that had messed up.

The first bottle of firewhiskey didn’t go down so easy. Too many associations to the last time that he’d gotten drunk off the stuff, making him puke every time he swallowed mouth-fulls, but he pushed through. It was one of the few alcohols that burned the right way, and blurred the edges of the grief fast enough for him.

Kreacher had been keyed to the wards of the house, and like clockwork, he showed up every morning to make enough food for Harry for the day, and while Harry was sleeping off the previous day and nights drunken escapade of raging and crying, he cleaned the house.

He would disappear before Harry awoke.

Both of them agreed the last time, that Kreacher deserved better treatment than the way that Harry was during these crash-outs, and as such, he wasn’t expected to stay around when he was in the throes of any drunken fallouts.

The week had been torture, but in its own way it was healing. He’d finally come to the conclusion by the following Tuesday night, that he’d needed to go through the most recent assignment. That he’d needed to be faced with the cruelty of Malfoy, needed to see it – face to face, in order to finally get over the man.

He was going to finally get rid of the hope that he’d kept burning like a candle in his chest, and he was going to go out and finally, finally get well and truly fucked.

Draco Malfoy wasn’t going to hold onto Harry’s heart anymore.

Harry was going to make sure that he fucked the other man out of his system, even if it meant sticking his prick into every single gay wizard in the Britain area and beyond.

He stood under the piping hot shower spray the last evening of his self-inflicted isolation, sobering up, and cleaning himself so that he could appear at Hermione and Ron’s when he felt the edges of his wards scream in request.

His body jolted, and after a moment, the feeling came again – whoever it was wanted through and knew well enough to ask him. Though, he thought with a sigh, clearly they didn’t know him well enough to take a hint and leave when he’d not replied after the first three attempts.  

Harry flicked the water off, and with a blast of a warming charm, and a flick of his wrist, he was mostly clothed in a pair of thick brown wool slacks, and a warm cream button up. He looked into the large mirror that was hanging over the floo, and saw that the person who was requesting entry to his cottage grounds… was none other than Malfoy.

Harry screamed.

There was nothing particularly healthy about the sound that came from inside of him. Something between feral and shattered. A man half possessed.

“How fucking dare he?” he bellowed, as he crushed a vase in his hand rather than throw it at the several thousand galleon mirror that was displaying the man for him.

He opened up the charm to make the mirror allow for communication, and with all the restraint that he could muster, he growled, “Go away. You are not welcome here Malfoy.”

Harry felt the man attempt to push through the wards again, and he laughed – a cruel and merciless thing, “I said go away. You will not get through my wards. You might think little of me, but we both know that my magic is stronger than yours, my wards more intricate than anything you can do to undermine them. Leave. You’ve done enough damage.”

With a wave of his hand the charm for communication and vision were quieted, and the next moment he felt the request through the wards again, he sent a flare of stinging hexes through the ward, relishing when he knew they’d made their target.

The request to come through didn’t come again.

He took a little longer to get his head back on straight. Looking at the calendar on his wall, noting that it was Thursday night, and deciding right then and there that he was going to hit up the club after dinner with Hermione and Ron.

So far as he was concerned, he was going to fuck someone before the night was over.

He was long overdue.

The floo flared green, and he stepped through, letting some of the tension go, as the smell of his best mates home welcomed him, and Rosie, who apparently had been impatiently waiting for her Uncle to come through, ran across the den to crush his legs tightly in a hug.

“Unca Harry!!!” She screamed, and he let out a laugh despite his mood. He adored his goddaughter, she was freshly four years old and there was nothing like a hug from a purely innocent child that loved him back. In a way that made him feel so soft.

“Rosie Posie,” he said, as he reached down and swept her up into his arms, reaching over his head and then bringing her close to his chest for a hug. “How have you been Sweet Princess?” he asked as he looked at her, delighting in the way that her cheeks were flushed and her face was bright with delight.

“Mama is going to give me a baby!” she screamed, and it took him a moment to understand what she’d said, for his heart to catch up in his chest, and his smile to get perhaps even wider, before he let out a loud laugh, and hugged her close and turned to leave the den, only to see both of his best mates in the doorway, flushed red themselves and laughing.

“Well, that is certainly one way to tell you.” Ron said, as he swept over and tickled his daughter. “What did we tell you about secrets young madam?” he asked, as his daughter squealed with delight in Harry’s arms, and it took all of his control to not drop her.

“It wasn’t a secwet!! Mama said she wahhhh hahahahahaha Daddy staaahppp she she was going to tell Unca Harry!! So it was okay!!” she wailed, and Harry couldn’t help the overwhelming love for his adopted family as they were.

He looked down at the little girl in his arms, and then grinned, “You know what I think Rosie Posie?” he asked, and she burrowed half behind his back, before she looked up at him after getting some protection from her father.

“What Unca Harry?” she asked, and Harry could see that Ron was plotting and he felt immense joy in being exactly who he was to these people.

“Remember Unspeakable Plan 235?” he asked, and it took her a moment but she light up like a Yule Tree.

“Yes, sir!” she said, and between one moment and the next, he strategically dropped her down behind him, and she moved like a snitch around the back of his legs, under her father’s reach and out the room, laughing like a loon.

“What is that all about then?” Hermione asked with a smirk on her face.

“You’ll find out soon enough, I imagine.” He said with a wide grin across his face. “Another one on the way then?” he asked, flinging his arm over Ron, and walking over to Hermione to grab a hold of her and pull her in.

“Yep, we only just confirmed it earlier this week, and you are the first to know other than Rose.” She said, as she curled into his arm, and they all three stood there for a moment, just relishing the joy of post war bliss that eclipsed them occasionally in beautiful ways.

“You’ll have to be god father to this one as well, Hare. Tradition and all.” Ron said, and Harry let out a laugh, at the outrageous way such a lovely thing was asked, but before he could reply Rose came back down the stairs, moving like lightning.

Harry released Ron, and pushed Hermione out of the way, keeping her in his arms, as he watched the madness unfold. Rose flung herself at her father, and just moments before she made contact with him, she opened her arms, and her hands were conspicuously covered in glue and magical glitter.

The next moment, there was a large cloud and several coughs, and belly laughs between Hermione and Harry, as Rosie accidentally collided with Ron’s bollocks, at the same time as she covered the man in rainbow glitter, of the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes variety.

“Rose!” Ron groaned as he fell to his knees on the floor letting out a wheeze, and Harry reluctantly let Hermione go before he reached down and grabbed his god daughter.

“Great job kiddo. Next time, we will work on our aim. The goal is to cover him in glitter, not hurt him.” He said, with a smile on his face but a serious look in his eyes, and she nodded.

“But I did cover him in glitter, so I am counting this as a win. It wasn’t my fault that he wasn’t fast enough to protect himself, Unca Harry.”

A moment of silence met her astute observation, and both Hermione and Harry resumed their laughter, and Ron groaned from the floor, unable to stop himself from half smiling at his daughters antics.

“Ronald, I expect you to be cleaned up for dinner. You will not be bringing glitter into my kitchen.” Hermione said, and Ron yelped.

“Minnie, babe, this is George’s glitter. I’m not going to be able to get it all off in time for dinner!”

Hermione let out a light laugh, “You’ve got about thirty minutes to figure it out. I propose flooing your brother to ask for the antidote.”

Harry waited until they were safely ensconsed in the kitchen and Ron was in the living room, before he whispered the incantation and the glittery substance vanished from Rose’s hands, leaning down and whispering, “Good job, recruit.”

He delighted in her attempt at a salute, and her giggle.

Dinner went lovely and smoothly, and after a several more dozen laughs at Ron begging George for the antidote, and Rosie’s verbal exploits, Harry formally accepted the designation as godfather to their next born.

He settled back into the den after Rose had been to put to bed, and with a glass of wine, he let the events of the previous weeks come to the forefront of his mind, just as Hermione got that look in her eye that said he wasn’t going to get far without discussing what had happened.

“So, you going to fill us in on what got the Harry Potter to take a vacation outside of his mandated once yearly vacation?” Ron asked, feigning a casual tone, as if he wasn’t just as interested in the events that had led to it, as his wife.

He leaned back, taking a sip of the beautifully sweet red, before he placed it down on the side table, and let himself recount all that had occurred at the manor. Not leaving anything out, up to the moment just before he’d left that evening to come to their house, and Malfoy had shown up at his cottage.

The silence that ensued wasn’t heavy, it was expected. Ron had been a strategist his entire life, and Hermione was no doubt putting pieces together for the riddle that had remained elusive during his self-imposed isolation.

It was Hermione that spoke first, “Do you happen to have the notes on the box with you? I’d like to look them over.” She asked, and he smiled knowingly, before summoning them from his coat pocket that was by the floo, and enlarging them for her as they floated to her lap.

“Go ahead. Can’t make hide nor hair of the riddle, though, don’t rightly suppose that it matters now.” He finished, taking another sip of the wine, before he noticed that Ron was still quiet.

“Nothing to say about how stupid I am? How I should hate the prat?” Harry taunted his friend, and then opened his eyes to look at the ginger man that was staring into the fire.

Without looking at Harry, he replied.

“Well mate… I’m not sure, or rather, I am sure that there is perhaps something else that seems to be afoot. Malfoy is a prat, haven’t changed my mind on that. But… well, something doesn’t quite add up is all.” Ron finished, and Harry looked at the furrowed brow of his best mate, and swung his gaze to Hermione who was already looking through the stack of papers with an air of single minded determination about her.

“It doesn’t really matter though does it?” He asked.

“I plan on going out tonight. I think it’s been too long since I got a proper shag.” He finished, and Ron laughed, but he noted that Hermione didn’t. She had a sharp look about her, but she didn’t look up from the documents in her lap.

“Be careful Harry. I… well, I agree with Ronald. Something doesn’t feel completely on about all of this.”

“Aye, my wife, the brightest witch of our age agrees with me!” Ron said, and Harry couldn’t help the dark chuckle that rose up at his best friends antics, before he settled down.

“I’ll be careful. I know all the right spells, and I’ll wrap and strap.” He said, as he hefted a sigh, swallowed back the rest of the glass, and moved to stand up. “But that requires me to be out there, on the prowl as it were.” He said.

He gave his goodbyes, and with a kiss on Hermione’s cheek, carefully laying his hand over her stomach in awe. Amd with a bear hug for Ron, he stepped through the floo to his London flat, where he changed for the night ahead.

He’d carefully selected his outfit, knowing now, after all these years, what set his features off . He walked out of the bedroom and caught himself in the mirror.

Harry checked over the look from tip to toe.

Kohl around his eyes, set his green eyes aflame. The tight black jeans accentuated both his firm arse, and his rather impressive bulge (so he’d been told), the half unbuttoned white linen shirt was flowy, and would be likely plastered to his skin with sweat before the night was over, completed with a gold watch, and a pair of combat boots that had been charmed for comfort.

He felt his nerves jangle. It had been more than three years since he’d been out on the prowl, and it didn’t help that his aesthetics were largely updated because of Draco. He know objectively that he looked good, and that is what mattered. It didn’t matter that he’d learned to dress because of his ex. It didn’t matter at all that he was trying to fill a void that he knew was still yawning largely in him.

It simply didn’t matter, eventually he would have to move on, and tonight would be the first step to making that happen.

He cast a slightly modified glamour on his features. It would hide his scar, and it would morph is facial features to anyone that didn’t have a genuine relationship with him. Meaning, if he ran into any of his friends while he was out, they would recognize him, but no one else would completely be able to recognize him.

He could keep a large portion of his anonymity, enjoy it if he saw people he knew, and if he pulled successfully, then he wouldn’t have too much guilt about not looking like himself as he was balls deep in a bloke.

With a last look at himself in the mirror, and a firm talking to about the traitorous way that his heart stuttered and his stomach swooped in anxiety and sadness – he stepped out of his flat, and apparated to soho.

~~**~~

He woke up disgruntled, hungover, and with a heavy dose of dry mouth.

He felt the pressure of his wards, as someone was begging entry, but all Harry wanted was a hangover cure, a shower, and to be left the fuck alone.

He closed his eyes tightly, thoughts of the previous night flashing with precarious clarity.

The club, Seamus, Davies, and that one girl from Level 4. They’d recognized him within minutes of entering the doors.

Seamus had inevitably dared him to a drinking game, and Harry’s night had gone from there.

Somewhere between the eighth club and vodka, and the tequila shooter, he had realized that there wasn’t a single blonde twink that interested him, and it had made him painfully horny and annoyed.

Between the tenth drink and the last shooter he’d realized rather pitifully that he wasn’t going to get laid after all. He groaned when the wards chimed again who the fuck knew tequila didn’t mix well with wine?

He grimaced.

He’d laughingly told Seamus that he was done for the night, and had bid the trio goodnight.

He didn’t remember getting home, but he rather thanked Merlin that he got there in one piece.

Harry summoned the hangover cure from his potion cabinet in the hallway closet, downing it with a painful grimace. Snape made the best potions, but they were vile as shit.

The rush of clarity was accompanied with an immediate reduction in the migraine and upset stomach.

The wards chimed again, and he groaned, “Go awayyyy.” He said, but made to move off the bed. Whoever it was, was persistent enough to continue to be at his door, he looked at his watch, before 6am on a Friday, perhaps it was important.

He gathered himself, deciding rather clearly to say fuck it, and gett dressed. He checked the wards and realized that it was Hermione, and rushed to the door opening it with his sleep pants hung low on his hips, and shirtless.

“Harry, thank God, I need to come in.” she said, pushing past him.

“What is wrong, what happened, is it Rose? Is Ron okay?” he asked, as he closed the door behind her and then followed her to the large living room.

“What?” she turned around and then realized either the time, the state of his dress, or perhaps a combination of both, before she smiled chagrined. “No, no, Merlin, no. Sorry, Bunny. I just… I realized something important about the artifact and came over as soon as I could before I went to work this morning.”

He felt the rush of relief as it cascaded through him, before he let out a groan.

“Merlin and Morgana, I think I got three hours sleep, Minnie, you scared the ghost of Dumbledore clean out of me. This better be important.” He moved to the kitchen, and she followed, sitting at the long countertop, as he mad coffee.

“Well, I think it is, and I think once you understand, you will too.” She said, rather too cryptically for his tastes at just gone 4am in the morning.

“Go on.” He said, as he dosed the espresso machine with the ground coffee beans, and then began the coffee maker to boil water.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 – A History, Both Ancient and Puzzling

He sat at his desk, the letters and requests buzzing above his head, while he stared into the middle distance, Hermione’s words ringing in his head like a life line he didn’t understand and wasn’t sure he wanted to.

”The box was called the Slytherin Bonding Casket. Essentially, it was passed down the Slytherin line until it came into the possession of the elder Malfoy several generation back. I was looking into the casket when I came across a passage that seemed interesting. ‘The casket was used in every bonding of true soul mates throughout the Slytherin bloodline.’ The features include two snakes, one made of pure silver, the other pure gold. It was recorded in the second generation after the casket was made, that these snakes were known to only speak with parselmouths, and were perhaps a reference to the relationship between Slytherin and Gryffindor before the falling out. Beyond that – they would be antagonistic to anyone that they deemed inferior to communicate with. In the fourth generation, an enchantment was created, wherein only a Parselmouth that had entered a courting contract with the owner of the box would be able to communicate with the snakes – further isolating the casket to even more nuanced and sincere magic and magical communicators. In the seventh generation of the Slytherin line, the then matron of the house, added a riddle component. Effectively it would require both of the bonded to work together, in order for the casket to open. During the reign of Arch Mage Reinhold the Twelfth, the Slytherin line created a charm that passed through bloodline, leading the Slytherin bonding rings to disappear and materialize within the box at the death of those currently wearing the rings. It is believed that when Ostensia Slytherin married Rodolpho Malfoy, the casket was brought into the possession of the Malfoy line, permanently. It disappeared for two hundred years from record, thought to be lost to time.”

Harry came back to the present in his office, when the door swung open and one of his coworkers walked in with two coffees, and several papers under their arm.

“Zabini, how can I help you?” he asked, as he took the coffee cup that had been offered, and waited for the other man to sit down.

“I was doing some research on the Stanton Curse Case, and wanted to stop by. Heard through the grapevine that you were out and about last night, on the prowl.” Zabini said, as he placed some of the papers down on Harry’s desk between them, and kept two in his hand.

Harry let his face show his disgust. “We are better than this. Letting gossip muddy the waters of an otherwise relatively unjudgmental relationship that we’ve built the last few years.” He replied dryly, as he pulled the stack towards himself to review the case, and see how it was coming along.

“That might be the case, but I was the one that had to deal with your ex-betrothed the last week, so I rather expected this was more than mere ‘gossip’ talk as you call it.” The bald man said firmly, and Harry looked up from his papers into the hazel eyes that were holding him in their death grip.

“I don’t know what you’ve had to deal with, but I apologize for anything I’ve had to do with it.” He hedged, before he pulled his gaze forcefully away and back blindly at the stack in his hands.

“I have been single for almost a year, and I finally had a night out with some friends. That should not bother anyone, so far as I am concerned, it was long overdue.”

He shuffled the papers, not taking any pertinent information in while he waited for Zabini to either move past the conversation, and discuss the case, or get up and leave.

The man, ever the Slytherin, did neither.

“Drake said some things that seemed rather interesting. I perhaps wanted to hear what you had to say.”

Harry ground his teeth down, aiming to find professionalism, but willing to settle for as close to calm as he could grasp.

“I don’t care what he had to say to you. He is none of my concern. He has made that repeatedly clear to me.”

“I think you are both being played by an outside force that is tearing you two apart. if you want me to be utterly frank about it. So either you give up this pity party, and talk to me, or I will force myself to deal with Granger and Weasley and they can pull some dignity out of you.”

A pin could’ve dropped on level three for all the weight the silence carried, and they would’ve heard it.

Harry trusted Blaise, almost with his life, after the work that they’d done.

The fact that the man had been pivotal when he’d been courting Draco, had cinched for him what he’  believed to be the beginnings of a lifelong friendship. When the relationship had ended, it had been difficult for the first few months, but they’d worked their way back to at least something that was close to the comradery that they’d had before.

He leaned back in his chair, giving up the pretense of looking at the forms in his hand, before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Fine. Go ahead.” He said, hoping that he wasn’t going to regret whatever was about to become of his day.

“Draco said that you came through on a request from the ministry, for the Slytherin Bonding Casket. While you were there, apparently you made some sort of scene about confronting him for his infidelity, and that is why the courting had been cut off.” Harry opened his eyes, but wasn’t able to stop the wince at the cold and curt way Zabini had summarized both the events that took place a little over a week prior, as well as the event that ended his belief in love existing.

“Yes, that all happened.” He sighed, taking a sip of his coffee, so that he’d have something to do with his hands.

“What happened the night you claimed he cheated on you?” Blaise asked, and if it wasn’t for the way the man’s voice subtly softened, Harry would’ve told him to fuck all the way off. Yet something told him that this line of questioning was worrisome, much in the way that Ron and Hermione had reacted, it seemed that something might have been afoot.

He took a deep breath, only mildly ashamed at the way that it almost caught in his throat before he began to talk.

“The night before I was set to propose, I went over to the Manor to give the final gift. Remember, we’d worked on it for weeks. It was the cufflinks that I’d layered all the charms and protections into?” Blaise nodded, and Harry continued.

“I had written Dra-Malfoy a letter that morning, letting him know that I was going to come by around seven, and to be dressed and ready. I had told him that I was going to take him out for dinner for our final evening of courtship, and I wanted it to be a surprise.”

He’d had spent the greater part of the last year attempting like hell to not think of that evening, and as he began to recount the events, they washed over him like a fresh wound soaked in blood.

“I didn’t get a response, but he was working on that one case for the Wizengamot at the time, and he had a tendency to forget to respond to me when he was deep in the politics, so I simply figured I would show up and would have to coerce him away from his stacks of papers and into his shower; but when I showed up he wasn’t waiting for me nor was he in his office.”

Harry leaned back, closing his eyes, letting the shame of the tears that were cresting on his eyelashes, be between him and the man sitting across the desk from him,

“I asked Thaxis if his master was home, but the elf only shook his head and said that his master was busy. A few minutes went by, I dunno, lost track of time, but I heard some noise upstairs, and I figured that he must’ve been taking a long shower. I remember how pleased I was, that his charming if consistently unable to be on time arse, was still taking a shower at almost half gone eight.”

He paused, seeing the stairs, recalling the noises, the way that confusion warred with understanding, horror dawning against his will.

“Go on.” Zabini said, and it was with so much kindness it almost broke him.

“I think I knew by the time I got to the top of the stairs what I was going to find. Those noises… shit Blaise, we all know what fucking sounds like. But I had to see it for myself, ya know? I had to. It seemed so, unreal, impossible, but it was clear what was happening – even if it ruined me as much as I understood what was happening.”

He took a deep breath, and finally let the tears fall down his cheeks, silent grieving as he’d long since not allowed himself to deal with the weight of the pain of that night.

“I opened the door, and it was like a entering a den of hedonism. Both of them, candles, clothes everywhere, they didn’t even stop fucking. There he was, thrusting so indecently, so, so… and there, underneath him, was Greengrass. I think it was the younger one, but I honestly only looked at her briefly before I looked up at him. He… he looked at me, and… fuck Blaise he smiled as he kept thrusting into her. He… I think he… but I slammed the door and ran from the manor before I could see anything else. That night, I got piss drunk on Hermione and Ron’s couch, and I wrote a letter to Gringotts breaking the courting contract due to infidelity.”

The room was only so silent, as his breathing was rough, and his tears were falling though slower now. It was still a fresh wound, and he rather was grateful that he hadn’t fucked someone the night before. He figured that would not be a pleasurable mix to deal with, as he’d had to deal with whatever the fuck Hermione had shared, and now this.

“Potter… shit, Harry, Draco wasn’t home that night.” Zabini replied, and Harry looked at him, unable to contain the rage in his chest.

“Don’t you dare come in and lie to me! You asked me what I saw, you asked me what happened! I know what I saw!” he bellowed, only so grateful for the silencing charms on all offices in the department.

“I know what you saw, but I am telling you, he wasn’t home that night. He was with me and Theo. We were at Gringotts and we got delayed. He had spent the better portion of the afternoon waffling over which of the Malfoy bonding rings to use for when you proposed. We’d found the Casket and it spiraled from there, as we had to put in an official request through the Gringotts goblins, and then the Ministry to get someone to review it, once I realized that the thing needed a Parselmouth.” Blaise continued, kind but firm.

“But… then how do you explain what the fuck I saw?” he demanded. Unable to deal with the reality of what was being said, what was being shared.

“I don’t know, but I know that when we finally got back to the manor that night, and you weren’t there, I knew that something was wrong. I had planned on helping Drake explain why we were late – it was going to be a charming thing, you giving him the cufflinks, and him handing you the casket. But then you weren’t there.” Blaise stood up and paced the length of the office from one side to the other.

“We were just discussing what we were going to do about you being late, and how we were going to guilt you for it, when the Gringotts letter came stating that you’d broken the courting contract due to infidelity. I promise you, Harry. I’ve never in my life seen Drake so destroyed. I… I hated you. I think had we not taken oaths within this department, I would’ve likely killed you. The letter didn’t indicate that you were accusing him of the infidelity, as such… well shit Potter – we thought that it broke because you had cheated.”

All of Harry’s blood rushed to his ears, and between one moment and the next he thought he was going to pass out. A few things suddenly making more sense, while a great many others began to fall into more confusion.

Draco coming to the cottage.

Ron saying how odd it was, that he’d seen Malfoy that afternoon at the bank when he’d been there.

Nott, giving him a filthy look and hexing him for months at work.

Seamus explaining how if Draco had been truly unfaithful the contract would’ve broken automatically…

So many things that he’d shrugged off, because he’d known what he’d seen.

He’d seen it.

“Potter. Harry, come on. Come back. There… there you are… breathe.” Blaise was leaning on the ground in front of him, as his vision stopped swimming and the blackness receded to the edge of his line of sight. “Take this, come on… breathe for me.”

He swallowed back the calming draught and felt some sense of calm overtake him, but in its place was an unaccountable level of heartbreak.

Draco had thought he’d cheated.

Someone had… “Someone did this.” He murmured, as he realized the bigger implications of what was being said.

“Yes, now we are asking the right questions. Knew they didn’t hire you for your good looks.” The Slytherin said with a half chuckle, before a stern and fierce look fell over his face.

“I will look into this. For now, I need you to act like nothing, and I mean it Potter, nothing has changed. Until we know more, we must continue as things have been.”

Harry nodded. He understood, but damned if he didn’t want to run to Draco and hold him and apologize for all this confusion, all this bloody mess.

“I mean it. Draco knows that something is up, and he’s doing his own research. I will be casually making a stop by Granger this afternoon to see if we can’t get the Gryffindor Brain on the hunt. We will figure this out, but I need you to continue to work like nothing at all has changed. Or we risk something worse happening.”

Harry nodded, understanding the implications. This was an effective version of line theft. Two ancient houses that were supposed to bond, and someone had interfered, not only with the bonding, but the courting contract.

There were laws both ancient and magical at play.

“Hand me the file on the curse case. I will have it reviewed and back on your desk by the end of day.” He said, his voice sounding like it was coming from a thousand feet under water.

“There’s the man the Unspeakables hired.” Zabini said, as he patted his leg, and handed him the case file, before he walked to the door.

“Potter, I will figure this out. We will get this sorted. I know… Merlin it’s clear you love him still. Just… give me at least 48 hours before you go Gryffindor on this situation.”

“48 hours, Zabini.” He replied, and something clicked into place.

The future waiting for those that expect it. The past behind them.

Yes… 48 hours, and if Zabini hadn’t figured it out, he certainly would.

~~**~~

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 – A Meeting and a Dinner

He’d not had a moments peace since the request had landed on his desk nearly three weeks prior.

The last 36 hours had been near torture.

He had completed the case review for the Stanton curse, and had filed it up with leadership. He’d been actually rather productive in his commitment to leaving Zabini and Hermione to figure it out before he did anything reckless.

Harry could feel his skin crawl with the need to act, to do something, but he held himself back.

By the end of the day, and into the morning, he’d processed almost his entire workload, including several cases that he’d originally considered too dull to prioritize.

His leadership was impressed, but he was antsy.

He passed by Ron and Hermione’s house on his way to work the next morning, and holding Rose felt like a moments peace in the storm. Cuddling the barely awake little girl, who was sleepily eating her morning pancakes, while Ron and he talked softly about the situation, and Hermione said she would have some sort of an answer by the end of the day.

She’d rushed out, after giving Rose a hug and a kiss, Ron a kiss, and Harry a hug.

Ron floo’d Rose to Molly’s house, and he and Harry went to the ministry together. Ron peeling off to the auror department, and Harry taking the lift down to the Unspeakables, where he further went down to level 3.

Which was how he found himself sitting with almost nothing to do in his office, at a quarter past noon, counting down until he was able to finally take the reins off and handle this shit.

Zabini came through his door, all ease, and confidence, grace in his every move.

Hermione came just after him, her leverage as the Ministries Second in Command, coming to her benefit; looking much less graceful, her movement static, her face a picture of indignation.

She began to speak, but Blaise lifted his hand, and he closed the door before he put it down and she continued.

“We think that there was an attempt of line theft by the Greengrass’s or on behalf of them. According to some records that Mal…Draco found in Gringotts, there was an old marriage contract between the Malfoys and the Greengrass’s that pre-dated the second war. However, it was never introduced into official legal proceedings, as both of the Greengrass elders died in the war, and Malfoy Sr. failed to sign it before their deaths. Thus null and voiding it.” Hermione placed the voided contract down on the desk and she sat down.

“But what is more interesting,” Zabini continued, in his thick drawl, but something underneath it set Harry’s neck on fire… something was visceral, feral undertone lacing the man’s voice. “Was the fact that it seems neither Daphne nor Astoria appeared to be in England at the time of the incident. I have confirmed with multiple sources, that Astoria was in Paris with her then soon to be fiancé, and Daphne was in West Asia doing an intensive on Asian Magical creatures.”

Harry leaned back, and looked at both of the people in the room. Something didn’t feel right… didn’t feel completely clear. “There is something neither of you are telling me.”

He watched the brief moment when Hermione and Blaise looked at one another, before Hermione piped up, “I told you, he isn’t stupid.”

Harry felt himself smirk, as he looked at Blaise who stared him down with something close enough to violent that it set Harry’s back straight.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice low, he let his magic layer his vocal cords. He didn’t understand the look that Blaise was giving him, but he understood that there was something he wasn’t going to like when the man spoke.

He watched as Blaise lifted his eyebrow almost amused, or perhaps impressed before the stern look reentered his eyes, and he paced to the bookshelf on the wall before he turned back around, his arms crossed and his posture unforgiving.

“Before I share the other piece of information that we found, I need to ask you two questions. I need you to be clear and as thorough as possible with your answers.”

Harry nodded, his back straight, and prepared for whatever was coming.

“When you originally created the courting contract for Draco, who did you discuss the particulars with?”

Harry thought about it, “Hermione and Ron, of course. I went to you for a few of the things particular to the Malfoy line that I didn’t know.” He paused. “I casually mentioned it to Robards when we were in the caf that day. I was nervous and he spotted it a mile away. He gave me a preemptive congratulations, and told me about when he had courted his wife.” He was about to stop speaking when “Oh, I spoke with Parkinson about it, but more about the general way. She was in the legal office the day that I got the signatures, so we spoke briefly about how romantic courting contracts could be.”

Before he finished speaking, Blaise bellowed, “Son of a BITCH!”

But Hermione stood up and rushed over, looking at the man, some sort of communication happening between them that was neither vocal nor clear to Harry. Before Zabini took two deep breaths, and looked back at Harry.

“Last, the day you sent the letter to the Manor about the final courtship step, how did you send it?”

Harry didn’t need to think too heavily about it. “I sent it via the floo network, in my office.” He pointed to his floo that Blaise was standing just in front of. “It seemed the fastest way since I needed to let him know that I’d be coming over that evening.”

Blaise sat down, and for the first time, Harry could tell that the man was moving between rage, and some sort of grief, that made him want to oddly comfort the Slytherin.

“What is going on?” he asked, now more sure that they knew something that he didn’t, but worried what it was going to be.

“Pans.” Blaise said with an explosive breath, before he continued. “Pansy likely knew of the stupid fucking contract between the Greengrass’s and the Malfoy’s. The contract had to have witnesses, and the Parkinson’s were the witnesses for it. However, she knew that Daphne didn’t know about the contract, as we confirmed with the younger Greengrass just this morning that she had no clue. But in the conversation, she remembered an odd interaction she had had with Pansy ‘around a year back’, where she’d brought up if Daphne had ever found Draco attractive. According to Daphne, the conversation was so odd, because she thought everyone knew that she was a lesbian, that she was very much dating women openly by that point.”

Blaise stopped, and Hermione picked up from there. “Daphne recalled that later that afternoon, she’d bumped into Parkinson a second time in the same day, which she recalled thinking was odd, as she’d gone years without seeing the woman and then to see her twice, including physically bumping into her, was odd. But she had dismissed it as she was busy preparing to leave for West Asia at the time.”

It clicked for Harry.

“Pansy already had been aware of the courtship, for almost a year at that point, went to Daphne to see what she knew, then bumped into her and got a hair for Polyjuice.” He surmised, and both Hermione and Blaise nodded.

“That is what we think.”

“But that doesn’t make it completely clear. First, how did she know that I was going to go over that night? We’d talked about courtship in general, but when we’d spoken, I hadn’t given her a specific date since I didn’t know yet. Second, she couldn’t have planned for Dra…Draco to be held up at the bank. Lastly… if Daphne didn’t know and was clearly not even into men, how was she going to work it out to steal the line?”

Harry leaned back, and wished desperately for Ron. He had a way of connecting the dots better than most people.

“That is what we need to figure out.” Hermione said.

She stood up and with her Zabini, as they both made it to the door.

“You have less than 10 hours until my leash is removed.” He said to them both as they were about to open the door.

He watched as Hermione turned the nob, and then leaned over her shoulder, as she opened the door. “Dinner at mine tonight?” she offered, and he understood that would be when either the situation would be resolved, or he’d be given free rein to handle it accordingly.

“Sure. I’ll bring the wine.”

They both left and shut the door behind them. Leaving Harry fluctuating between doing what he damn well pleased, and also flying to Draco and sorting this out between them.

~~**~~

He showed up to their house, and was only mildly shocked when he saw that Blaise was waiting in the den, looking tall and imposing in the otherwise comfortable and quaint home.

Harry couldn’t help smiling at the way the man wore a suit jacket and jeans and still looked like he’d walked off a runway, while standing in a room that was filled with kids toys, books half opened on the side table, and quidditch magazines that were piled on the coffee table.

“Potter.” He said by way of greeting and Harry chuckled, as he stepped up and held out his hand.

“Blaise, could you look any more uncomfortable?” he asked, as the other man placed his hand in his and shook it.

“I could, and I imagine I will shortly.”

Harry felt his brow furroughed at that response, but he moved past the man to the kitchen, “Minnie, I’m here.” He called.

“Bunny, Ron will be home shortly. We took Rose to Molly and Arthur tonight, we figure… tonight is probably better without her under toe.”

He grimaced, and nodded his head to her back, as he walked up and hugged her at the kitchen sink while she cleaned the kitchen with a frantic air.

Rather than tell her to calm down, he simply assisted her. Adding his charms, and spells to hers, and in less than ten minutes the entire first floor of the house was cleaned, tidied, and smelled faintly of lemon and lavender, her favorite smells.

She looked at him with all the gratitude that she could muster, and hugged him close, “Please, just… remember that what we thought happened didn’t, okay?” she whispered in his ear and he pulled back and was about to reply… though he certainly had no clue what to reply with they both heard the floo flare.

“’Mione!” they heard Ron yell.

“Kitchen Ron,” she said, and Harry felt her squeeze his forearms tightly once, in a confusing but comforting way, before he watched her leave the kitchen for the dining room, and he followed her.

His heart lodged itself completely between his ribs and throat. He forgot how to breathe, how to let his lungs work, how to intake air as a way to live rather than a means of drowning.

Draco stood awkwardly on the other side of the dining room. Looking far more beautiful than Harry had allowed himself to remember. Pale skin, sharp cheekbones, his hair was blonde and looked like he’d run his hands through it several times in the way he did when he didn’t want to admit he was nervous but clearly was.

He was wearing a slate grey suit, with a crisp white button up, no tie, the top two buttons undone – just the way that Harry had said one evening that he’d found irresistible.

They stared at one another, and nothing was said, but impossible words begged to be shared in the space that the air took up between them. Longing lacing the room, as much as the heartbeat in his ribs, thrummed a staccato of pain and promise.

“Alright, let’s sit. I got pasta from La Daviouré on Diagon.” Ron said, and Harry almost laughed but choked on the need to weep.

La Daviouré was the restaurant that Draco and Harry had gone to on their first official date as a couple.

He watched as if removed from his own body, as he sat down across from Hermione, next to Blaise. Ron was on his other side at the head of the table, and Draco sat on the other side of Zabini on the other head of the table.

The trays of food magicked themselves over the cloth and chinaware, wine poured from the bottle he’d brought and the tea that Hermione had provided, and the candles were lit.

It was almost a date like experience, had it not been for the situation causing the dinner and the setting.

Ron cleared his throat, and began in what Harry had long since called his auror voice. It was rather authoritative, and when he used it, Harry realized that it did the job. People trusted what he had to say, and he owned the room when he spoke.

“We are here because we have the makings of what we all here believe to be an alleged attempt at line theft. Further, what we decide in this room this evening, will decide what next steps we take. On record for this room at this time, alone, we are alleging that Pansy Parkinson, with the help of potentially one if not several coconspirators, attempted line theft using information that she had at her disposal.”

He stopped and took a bite of his pasta, and the rest of the room seemed to breathe, and followed along with what, to Harry, felt like a farce of a spectacle to eat, but he needed his energy if he was going to have his leash removed by the end of the night.

“Correct, Weasley.” Blaise said next to him, as he took a sip of the deep dark red wine.

“As of this afternoon we’ve been able to ascertain how she potentially was able to intercept the message that Harry sent to the Manor. Parkinson has a position in the Communication department of the Ministry. While typically this is regarding outside messages on behalf of the ministry to the media, it does have a smaller department within it that monitors all of the intradepartmental memos and floos.” Weasley continued, after taking a sip of his water.

Harry placed his fork down, and he felt something lodge in his throat. A memory. “Shit. Brown.” He said, and Hermione gasped across the table.

“I completely forgot.” She said.

Ron looked at them both, and his face clearly said to explain.

Harry spoke. “Lavender Brown. She is the comptroller for all floos in the ministry. She got the role three years ago, when the matron died that held the position before her. I remember the party that some of her acquaintances had for her in the ministry caf the Friday she was awarded the role.”

Ron leaned back, and if it wasn’t such a serious situation, Harry could’ve admitted that his favorite thing was watching his best mate make connections between multiple points in his mind.

But before he could say anything, Draco cleared his throat, and Harry felt the hair on his arms stand up when the man spoke. “Which gives us a potential connection that substantiates the already potential connection we’ve made. But doesn’t provide means or motive for Brown or Pans to do this.”

Zabini finished chewing, “Well… I think it might. Didn’t Ronald here break that Brown girls heart during Hogwarts, by choosing rather openly Granger here? She might not have been able to get to Ronald, but would she see getting Potter as hurting Weasley?”

Harry cocked his head, “No, but she did attempt to date me shortly after the bre…break up.”

He felt all eyes on him, and he leaned his head back on the chair back behind him, before he replied. “I didn’t think anything of it. Clearly I am gay, and I was…wasn’t, well I was not interested no matter if she’d been a man. She approached me a few times. Once in the ministry, I think the day after or the week after I returned to work. I think the next time she was in the same coffeeshop as me one Saturday, and she asked to buy my coffee, and I don’t remember completely but I think there was one more time.” He tried to run the entire situation through his mind, but that was all he could come up with.

“So she was trying to date you. Either to have a claim to your name and fame, or to perhaps get back at Weasley… maybe both, motive will be ascertained later.” Blaise said, and they all nodded. “It might also be another attempt at line theft. We’ve been focused on Drake’s family name, that we forget Potter holds both the Potter and officially the Black family seats and lines.” He mulled, and Harry tensed. He’d not once thought of what it could mean for his name, his line. He’d been primarily focused on Draco and what it would mean for his family.

“Which, while not enough to substantiate motive fully, does indicate why these, or rather, two people in general would be needed to take part in this.” Hermione said, and Ron nodded. Motive wasn’t necessary right now. Information and connections were, before they took something this large to the aurors and Gringotts.

“So we potentially have the means, and the accomplice, but this doesn’t make sense how she was able to get Malfoy to be detained longer at the bank. Nor what she was planning to do to actually potentially steal the line. It is one thing to know about the marriage contract, but how was she going to get Daphne who is an out lesbian, or Astoria who was set to be married – in a way that actually accomplished the goal?” Ron said, and Harry could see that the man was attempting to put together the last piece of the puzzle, it was almost painful to watch him look through all the red strings that were only visible in his mind.

“Ahhh, I can answer at least the first part.” Draco said, and Harry once again had to focus on how to breathe, when he heard the silky posh voice that he’d for so long loved, and had made every attempt to forget.

“I had originally planned on going to Gringotts and just pulling the Malfoy rings out of the standard vault, and I’d mentioned in passing to her that very day that I was going to the bank to do just that. She’d mentioned the myth of the Slytherin Bonding Casket, and well… I couldn’t pass up the chance to see if we could find it. Ha...Pot…Harry being a Parselmouth, afterall.”

Hearing the man stumble over his name, made him feel too many things. Relief, confusion, longing, and sorrow. So many things that he had to keep his entire attention focused on the food in front of him that was becoming less and less appetizing.

“And it would be entirely feasible that she had a hair of Draco’s. After all, Pansy and Draco all but grew up around each other. It is entirely plausible.” Blaise said.

“And she was keyed to the wards. Has been since I was a toddler. So it wouldn’t have alerted  me if she’d entered them, and Thaxis knew her well enough to not mind her being around if I wasn’t there.” Draco completed.

“And it would explain why he didn’t say you were home but said you were busy when I was there. You truly were busy, and she’d likely entered as herself and then transitioned in the room. As if she’d entered as you, Thaxis would’ve clearly undoubtably known there was something afoot.” Harry surmised, and the room settled into silence.

“I think I potentially know at least a possibility for the latter issue that was brought up. Though surely it makes it a larger crime, of attempted murder.” Blaise said, and it landed like lead on the table.

Harry watched Ron’s eyes harden, before he nodded, “Go on.”

“After Granger and I spoke with Daphne, something in the back of mind had a vague recollection of a story I’d heard while she was in West Asia. I went back and spoke with her later in the afternoon, and she confirmed what I’d vaguely remembered.” Blaise leaned back in his seat and took a long sip of his wine before continuing.

“During her trip to Iran, at one point she had almost died. According to her, it was a very close call. She’d had a trip that was planned for the northern border, with a group of seasoned magi-scientists, that were going to study some special creatures that were located only in that area. She said at the last minute, someone had dropped from the trip, and was replaced by another person. A woman she never caught the name of, and still cannot fully remember the face of. While on the expedition, the woman quite literally pushed her off the side of a mountain, but as she is a Greengrass, she’d learned her Animagus as a child, and was able to change into her animal form, which was a bat. She’d sustained some injuries, and the woman had been detained, but by the time they got back to the capital city to have the woman formally arrested, she had disappeared.”

Harry spoke into the quiet room, “You think this might’ve been Parkinson?”

“I think it’s incredibly likely. She allegedly went on a trip for two weeks earlier this year, around the time of the incident. She told Drake and I that she was going to Paris, but I have reached out to my mother, and she confirmed that she’d not seen or heard that Pans was in Paris the entire year. Which is unheard of. She always has tea with my mother when she is in the city.”

Ron cleared his throat, and took a sip of his butterbeer before he continued. “If I have the authority of the present parties that were impacted by this alleged event, I would place a case to the auror department, and Gringotts, as soon as this evening.”

Harry looked up at Draco across Blaise, and for the first time that evening they stared at one another with something that seemed less tenuous, and more firm. Harry nodded, and Draco nodded back, before they both looked at Ron.

“Yes.”

“Alright then. Minnie, I will likely not be…”

“Don’t worry, Ronald. Take care of it. I will be here when you get home, handsome.” She said, as she stood up with him, and hugged him. Everyone there could see the charm of protection she placed on him, but all of them were too polite to mention it.

He nodded to the rest of the room, and left. They heard the floo a few minutes later, and a silence that bordered uncomfortable settled in the room.

“Alright. For now, there is nothing that we can do until Ronald processes the complaint through the official channels. Harry your leash is very much still on.” She said to him, and he felt himself smile, though he wanted to growl. The fact that they knew likely who had done this meant that every fiber in him wanted to go after her and rip the woman… likely women, apart.

“Understood, Minnie.” He said instead, and he stood up, confusedly looking over when Draco rushed to stand at the same time as him. They looked at one another, and Blaise let out what had to be a delighted laugh that broke the tension.

“Oh for the love of Morgana, go to one of your places and fucking sort this out.”

Hermione laughed, as she cleaned the table, and Blaise stood up to help her, as they left the room leaving the two of them standing there.

Harry took two attempts before he could speak, “My… place?” he asked. Wishing for all the life of him, that he’d sounded more confident, more smooth.

“Yes, absolutely.” Draco replied, and Harry turned on his heel and after saying his goodbyes to Hermione, and shaking Zabini’s hand, he stood next to the blonde and he called his address as the powder lit the fire and they stepped through.

~~**~~

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 – On The Anatomy of Apology and Pearl Buttons

He stepped into his den and immediately regretted choosing his place.

His gaze swept across the room, and noticed the photo on the mantel that was still of both him and Draco on their fourth date, when Harry had surprised the man by inviting Lady Malfoy to the conservatory and had given her a bouquet of white roses. The moment that was captured by Hermione, had been Narcissa daintily crying with the roses to her nose, and Draco looking to shocked as he wrapped his arms around Harry.

It was one of his most cherished moments in life.  

There were piles of books on the coffee table, some of them open, and some of them half falling off the side, all about snakes, Slytherin, and the significance of certain stones in artifacts.

There was a pair of glasses on the side table, along with a few receipts he’d pulled out of a pair of trousers the week before, a pair of shoes that were thrown, clearly from the night before – one on the couch, the other just to the left of the floo, along with the pair of trousers that were half falling off the threadbare tartan chair to his right.

He’d only been able to surreptitiously move the shoe off the couch with a quick spell, before the other man stepped through into his home, and suddenly everything felt too much, too heavy, too tight.

His feet took him to the other side of the room before his brain could make the conscious decision and he immediately regretted it. His body had become accustomed to the feeling of shame, the knowledge that he’d not been enough for the very man that he’d loved so deeply… he didn’t know how they were going to get past this.

He so desperately wanted to get past this.

“Tea or scotch?” he asked, and something warm in him unfurled when he heard the other man chuckle.

“Knowing us? Tea. The scotch can be after when we are celebrating.” The warm tone was so confident, so sure, that something in Harry began healing before he had a moment to breathe it in.

“Are you…so sure?” he asked softly, as he continued into the kitchen, hearing the footsteps behind him.

“No. But I’ll be damned if you are taken from me for something neither of us did. Not without a fight.”

Harry’s hands stopped on the kettle, his heart solidly lodged in his throat, fighting a wave of tears he hadn’t realized were so close to the surface.

“And you, Potter…” He heard Draco pause, and take a deep breath, “Harry, are worth fighting for.” Draco said behind him, the counter separating them, but it suddenly felt like he was right there, back inside of his bloodstream.

“I… I should’ve fought harder when all this happened. You… you have always been the one that held the… but, I just accepted it. I didn’t even question it. I’m… shite.” But the other man stopped, and Harry kept mechanically moving.

“In pureblood relationships, it isn’t unheard of for partners to cheat, to be unfaithful. I think… to be completely honest with you, it hurt but I reacted as if it wasn’t unexpected, because a part of me… expected it.”

His brow crumpled in, and he replied without turning around. “You expected me to cheat on you, or you expected to cheat on me?” his voice betrayed him, soft but so hurt that he could scarcely breathe.

“Merlin and Morgana, I never expected to be unfaithful. You, well you are Harry bloody Potter. I think I always expected that I would be the dutiful husband, with the bad reputation, and you would be the charming celebrity that would likely occasionally stray because… it would be easy for you to.”

A deeply uncomfortable silence filled the room, and Harry had no idea what to do with it. His mouth was moving before he had the chance to think it completely through. “You didn’t expect me to be faithful? You… did you always doubt my feelings for you?”

“No, no. I believed you loved me, but…  well Mother and Father loved each other my whole life, and I watched them stray often. Is it something that I wanted for my relationship with my bonded? No. But… I wasn’t going to give up having you for something that I could eventually, maybe, force myself to accept.”

He mulled over the words, and his heart once again broke for the man that was sitting in his kitchen, so completely unaware of what he was worth, what Harry would do for him.

“Did you read the courtship contract?” Harry asked, as he stood watching the kettle, unwilling to turn around.

“Of course I did, are you daft? I am a Malfoy. I wouldn’t sign anything without reading it thoroughly.”

They both laughed for a moment, because yes, of course, absolutely that was true.

“In the courtship contract I was clear. Fidelity in life, and in death.” He almost turned around, but stopped himself. “I didn’t mean that for you, Dray… I meant that for both of us.” He chuckled inspite of himself. “I’ve been obsessed with you since 2^nd year. I wouldn’t have ever thought to be unfaithful, I was so,” his voice cracked, “bloody shocked that I even had you after all this time.” He tried to keep himself together, but it was a near thing. Watching the counter on the kettle was the seconds ticked by, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60…

“I am a fool. Harry, I’m… I’m so sorry. I should’ve expected better of you, for us. I… please. I… swear it. I should’ve fought for you, for us. I should’ve come immediately after you. Merlin, Blaise even asked why I didn’t… but, I just…couldn’t.”

His hands weren’t working. He couldn’t see them anymore, hazy, glossy, tears blocked his vision from putting the tea bags in the cups. He hadn’t expected for it to be so easy, so clear, no arguing, no fighting….

Because Draco had cut through all of the things that Harry had been shattered from.

That he’d not even fought for Harry. He’d not come demanding, clarifying, giving anything. Draco had just… left him. Or rather, had been perceived as cheating on him, and then had accepted that Harry walked away.

There had been no argument, no passion. As if, Harry had been temporary all along.

The arms that suddenly came around him, held him, pulled him back, and the dam burst.

He wanted to feel ashamed, he wanted to be upset at how easily he broke in front of this man, this one in particular who for the last 11 months had been the reason he’d thought his heart would never be whole again, but it felt like coming home.

“Shhhh, my Lion. I’ve got you. I promise. I won’t ever let you go again.” Draco whispered, as he held Harry up. His body finally trembling through the wake of sorrow that he’d carried.

His spirit finally feeling genuine, true, and unequivocal comfort for the first time in months and months.

“It hurt so badly. Bloody hell, Dray... seeing you… seeing that… It tore me apart. I didn’t think I’d ever be whole again.” He said, between breaths, as he was starting to come down off the edge of the cliff that he’d been standing on the edge of for too long to remember.

“It wasn’t me. I swear it. I swear it on my magic. Weasley will get this sorted, but I swear to you, my Lion, my Harry… it wasn’t me.”

Draco’s voice was so firm. So serious, so raw and vulnerable and honest, that it would’ve been impossible for Harry to deny him.

He’d just wished that this had happened then, and he’d not had to sit with the pain for nearly a year.

Harry took a deep breath, shattered, exposed, and turned in the man’s arms and finally, finally let himself reach out.

He put his forehead on the other mans, just staring into one another. His arms wrapped around Draco’s shoulders, and Draco’s arms still tightly around his waist.

“I tried so hard to stop loving you, but I think I’d already given you my heart. I haven’t breathed in so long.” He whispered, and he took a sharp breath, when Draco brought one of his hands up to cup his cheek.

“I had given you my heart back before you initiated the stupid courtship. My Lion… I loved you in sixth year. Then when you first came to me… after the war, and you wanted reconciliation, I was too foolish to hope.” Draco’s thumb moved in a tantalizing soft swish back and forth on his cheek, as he continued.

“And then, you kissed me that first time. Morgana, on my life… I think my soul left me and it was replaced entirely with you. When… when you broke the courtship contract, and I saw the reason… I just… everything came back. The war, Hogwarts, the way you’d always hated me. I thought, bloody fucking hell, Harry I thought it had all been a prank for you. A long con to convince me that anyone could love someone as broken and disgusting as me.”

Harry’s arms pulled the man in so tightly without his knowledge, holding him close.

“No, Merlin… Christ, no. You have… I swear it. No. Fuck, I hate the bitch. I don’t think I’ve hated anyone like this since him.” he growled, his voice raw, his heart beating with a slow and painful roll in his chest.

“She almost succeeded because we are too hard headed prats.” Malfoy said, and his trademark smirk, made Harry almost smile in return.

The kettle went off with a whistle, and they stood like that for a few moments longer. Just holding one another. Draco’s head just above his, but his arms bigger and stronger and holding the man close.

“I don’t want to let you go.” He whispered, and he felt the blonde laugh lightly.

“I want some tea, you need some tea – and… I will be right here.” He said, and Harry forced himself to trust it. To acknowledge that he wasn’t going to turn his back, and then suddenly this will have all been a dream.

“I thought it was rather Slytherin of you. In the grand scheme, I thought you were a bastard, and I was bitter and angry, but a small part of me was almost impressed that you could do something like that.” Draco said, as he looked at Harry, his grey eyes almost laughing.

“That should’ve been my first and second clue. You are too Gryffindor for tricks like that, aren’t you, my Lion?”

His heart heaved once in his chest, and he couldn’t help the blush on his cheeks at the endearment. He’d missed it, he’d missed the subtle snarky insults, that were coupled with the soft look that was reserved for him. For them.

Draco moved away, after placing a chaste, feather light kiss on his forehead, and Harry turned back to the kettle, flicking his wrist to turn off the heat, while his heart did a slow roll in his chest at the kiss.

Silence settled over the kitchen, as Harry got the service together and brought it to the countertop, where he sat down next to the other man. He laughed at himself when he batted Draco’s hands away, and made the man a cuppa, exactly as he liked it.

Light, half a teaspoon of sugar, half a teaspoon of honey, and a splash of milk; keeping his eyes down the entire time as he handed the mug to the blonde, then making his own. Dark, lot of cream, two teaspoons sugar.

When he finally looked up, having steadied himself a fair bit with just the use of his hands, he noticed the impossibly adoring look in the steel grey eyes. “You didn’t forget.”

“No.” Harry let out a soft laugh. “You are unforgettable, generally. But… your tea order is perhaps about as posh and complicated as you are. How could I forget what I spent a month learning to perfect in the first bit of our relationship?” he asked, half joking, half completely serious.

They settled back, and he relished the way that Draco’s long, slender thigh brushed against his in a clearly purposeful manner.

“Have… have you been with anyone… else?” Harry asked, knowing he needed to know, and terrified of what the answer would be.

“Oh Harry – no. Merlin… I was so angry the first few weeks, I couldn’t see straight, I… I tried, I won’t lie to you. I went to every single club in Paris, for weeks, but every time… I kept complaining to Blaise that they didn’t have glasses, or their hair wasn’t messy, or their eyes weren’t green enough, their muscles weren’t right, their shoulders weren’t broad, I think Blaise almost killed me more than once…”

They both laughed, but the pit in his stomach was still open, still raw.

“They weren’t you.” Draco finished, and Harry couldn’t have stopped the groan that left his throat, couldn’t have stopped the way that his hand clenched into a fist, the hours, days, months that they’d lost…  

“I didn’t try for almost the whole year. But… but when I went to the manor for the casket – I was determined to get over you. I spent a whole week wallowing, Merlin,” Harry laughed at himself with a bit of chagrin lacing the tone of it. “I thought I could drink you out of my system again, but it didn’t work. So I thought I’d finally go to the club, try to pick up anyone. I was determined to… I was determined. But then… well none of them were blonde twinks, and I just couldn’t follow through with it.”

“Hey!” the other man said with mock affront, and Harry laughed, the aching hole in his chest closing a little bit.

“I am more than a blonde twink, I’ll have you know.” Draco said, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“Of course, you are also a posh, intelligent, sophisticated, prat, who too often thinks too little of himself, with impeccable style, and a dramatic flair for emotions, who can make my blood boil with a single word or look in my direction.” He laughed, “But they were all out of those at the club too, alas.”

All the sudden, Malfoy was on him. His arms were around him and his body was flush against his, and he was whispering with a fervent glee in his ear. “You utter block, you… you pillock!” and then he was kissing that spot under his ear. The one that made his body light up with fire, and his heart race. “But I swear I have missed you.”

He turned his face, and caught the man’s lips on his.

His first thought, was that the man’s lips still tasted of mercy, of acceptance, of second chances. His second thought, was the depth to which he’d missed this, how much he’d not allowed himself to think of exactly this moment.

He’d not allowed himself to hope, and Harry realized with a painful clarity, that it was the first time he’d lost hope. Truly, and completely lost hope.

Not even at the Dursley’s had he ever allowed himself to lose hope.

Not in the depths of the forest of Dean, had he lost hope.

Not on the battle field, when he’d held Snape, bleeding out in his arms, had he lost hope.

Not when he’d faced Voldemort, and he’d felt the life leave him.

Not when he’d been with his wand out, and the entire weight of the world on his shoulders.

But when he’d left Draco, when he’d closed the door and ran out of the manor house… he’d lost the color, the shade, the inspiration that caused hope.

“Merlin and Morgana, I have missed you like a limb I didn’t know I’d lost.” He whispered, pained, overcome, so desperately in love that he was sure he would die under the weight of it.

“Of course, after all…” Draco said teasingly against his lips, “I had your heart with me the entire time.”

He couldn’t stop himself even if he’d wanted to. From one moment to the next, he had Draco in his arms, and he was carrying him bridal style to his room, laying him down on his bed, his mouth only leaving his to look at him. To take in the vision of this man who he’d sworn to love, who had been taken from him, to relish the utter correctness of it.

“I refuse to ruin the courtship ritual. I will not,” he said, his voice low, a growl in the dark night, as he crawled over the man laying so beautifully there for him. “bury myself deep within you. Not until you are mine in every way.” He dragged his lips down the side of the man’s neck and kissed his collarbone that was just barely showing where the shirt had drawn down.

“You ca…can…cannot be, ohhh ffffuck, be serious.” His lover replied, his voice breathless, light, holding air and longing.

“Oh, I am very serious.” Harry uttered, licking a trailing from the delicate collarbone up to the delicious looking ear lobe that was begging to be laved, sucked, devoured. “But I will hold you. Mercy upon me, I don’t think I’ve known rest without you.”

“Ha…Haa-Harry,” Draco said, shattered, completely raw.

“Look at you, my Dragon. Look how the moonlight plays along your skin.” He dragged his hands up, his fingers playing at the pearl buttons that were holding on only just barely, stretched against the man’s body upon the bedding.

“Please, please, don’t make me wait.” Draco begged, and Harry smiled, an evil thing playing on his lips.

“Then let us hope that Ron finishes the investigation quickly.” He whispered, as he flicked the first button open, “I will make my way to Gringotts. I will do this the right way,” he said, as he flicked a second and third button; delighting in the way that he could feel Draco’s breath stutter in his ear.

“Th-then, why did, why are you, Christ, Harry why are you doing this to me?”

A small, cruel, deeply insecure part of Harry purred at the way that the man under him sounded.

He couldn’t explain that knowing it wasn’t Draco in that bed, knowing it, was different than feeling it. He couldn’t explain that he needed to prove to them both that this was his right, that Draco was his, and his alone. He couldn’t begin to explain the reassurance the he needed, that he was the one that could pull these sounds from the typically constrained and refined man.

So instead, his fingers continued to undo buttons, and his tongue continued to write the language of love upon the pale skin underneath him, and his heart continued to beat a tempo of longing, and he hoped that Draco would understand.

"Just let me love you." he whispered, achingly, longingly, against the skin he'd dreamed of nearly every night for longer than he could remember. 

He would fall asleep with this man in his arms, every single bloody night, and something possessive in him growled knowing that when he was finally able… he was going to pull the man apart piece by piece, and put him back together, as only he could.

~~**~~

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 – Justice, Statements, and Serpentine Approval

“Pansy Theodora Parkinson, you have been found guilty of attempted line theft, attempted murder, illegal Polyjuice manufacturing, and illegal manipulation of a courting contract. By the decree of this Wizengamot, these crimes are considered some of the most offensive, and will be punished to the highest extent of the law. After deliberation, we are sentencing you to 24 years, to be followed by another 31 years of remedial magic under the monitoring of the Wizengamot.”

Harry settled back into his seat, he’d used his power – he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He had two seats on the Wizengamot, and Draco had one, but Draco had been unable to stand the thought of using his seat to penalize a girl he’d grown up with, no matter how hurt and angry he was.

Harry had no such compunction and held firm that he would use both of his seats to the fullest extent that he could.

Parkinson would never come within twenty thousand meters of him, his beloved, or their families for the rest of her life.

“Lavender Aster Brown, you have been found guilty of attempted line theft, aiding and abetting the use of illegal Polyjuice in the manipulation of others, and illegal interception of private missives. By the decree of this Wizengamot, these crimes have been duly assigned the penalty of 15 years in prison, and a subsequent 15 years of remedial magic under the monitoring of the Wizengamot.”

He watched with some sense of justice and vengeance as both of the women were taken in magical bindings out of the large amphitheater, Pansy red faced with anger, and Lavender crying begging Ron to help her.

The hand on his thigh was the only thing that was keeping him from burning through his skin.

“It is done.” Came the voice to his left, and he pulled his gaze from the two women that were finally leaving through the door to be absolved of their wands, and to be booked for processing.

He saw the steel grey eyes that at once were full of grief and gratitude, and he couldn’t help the wave of emotion that overcame him, they were finally able to move on.

Harry smiled, his body unable to stop himself from leaning forward and kissing the man that was sitting there, the man that had long sense been the other half of his soul.

“Now, this… is just beginning.” He replied, and kissed the blonde man. Delighting in the squawk of shock that Draco let out at such a public display of affection.

They walked out hand in hand, Blaise and Nott on one side of Draco, and Ron and Hermione on his side. He flicked his wrist at the reporters that were flocking around the entrance to the Wizengamot, and his voice left in a booming thunder, silencing them all.

“Today, justice has been served. Let this be a lesson to any and all of those out there that believe they can do as they wish and get away with it, justice will always find those that seek to harm others.”

“Harry Potter! Do you plan on continuing to pursue a relationship with Draco Malfoy? He has been marked by the Dark Lord!” came the reporter from the Prophet to his left, and he turned his head, holding firmly to Draco’s hand.

“I plan on not only continuing to court this man, I plan to bond with him. While I do not expect for the Prophet to have learned anything after the war,” he turned his gaze from the reporter and out to the larger group standing there with their wands, and pens at the ready for his statement.

“I do expect for the Wizarding world at large to have learned that prejudice gets us nowhere. Draco Malfoy is one of the most selfless men that I know. His life and his history add to him, they do not detract. As of today, no one will be allowed to continue to speak ill of him, but further – we should question anyone who speaks ill freely of others, when we are all imperfect or have in some way learned hard lessons in our lives. Some have not had the luxury of having their lessons hidden from the masses, others have had to have their entire lives up for scrutiny. Perhaps, we should think wisely about what this accomplishes. As the ancients said, ‘Let he who has not sinned, cast the first stone.’ Good night.”

And with that, Blaise and Ron rushed forward and pushed the reporters back, the aurors following and creating a barrier between the crowd and the rest of the group as they continued down the path.

“Harry, you… you didn’t have to say all of that.” Draco said to him, but before he could respond, Hermione let out a laugh.

“You don’t know him, if you think he didn’t have to. Harry will defend anyone he loves. Better get used to it Draco. He will likely only get more feral with it now.”

He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and he pulled the blonde into his arms, and Hermione laughed at him as his lips found Draco’s. “Harry! We are in public!” the man screeched, and Harry simply doubled down, kissing him until the blonde was pliant in his arms.

“You are mine.” He whispered when he pulled back. “They will either get used to it, or they won’t. But I will never be ashamed of the way that I love you.”

He stared into the eyes that he’d missed for so long.

The investigation and subsequent trial had taken six months. Six months of torture as neither of them were able to continue the courtship until the trial was completed.

But now… now he would be able to finally complete what he’d started so long ago.

He smiled at Nott, nodded at Blaise, and winked at Hermione and Ron, “We will be indisposed for the rest of the evening.” And before any of them could reply, he apparated them both to the manor, his arms never leaving Draco’s waist.

“You heathen!” Draco laughed, as they landed in the warded apparation point in the garden, but his words were nothing to the light that was shining out of his eyes, his smile that Harry was utterly charmed and obsessed with in equal measure.

“Oh?” he asked, as he summoned a roll of parchment next to them, handing it to the other man. “Are you sure I am a heathen?” he continued, as Draco reached out to grab the scroll looking at him with a question in his eyes.

“Go on, open it.” He urged, his heart racing like a madman in his chest.

He watched as Draco furroughed his brow, but did as had been requested. Harry could feel his palms damp, but he stood tall, firm.

”Draco Abraxas Malfoy, you have hereby been requested to enter into a bonding courtship with one Harry James Potter. At the request, and final approval of the ancient and most noble Order of Bonding, the courtship is to last for a total of 24 hours. Harry James Potter is to provide a singular gift, one which proves his devotion, intent to commit, and his desire to tie his heart to yours. Once the gift has been provided, you are requested to provide an answer that either accepts the terms of bonding and reach the conclusion of the courtship, or you are allowed to break the courtship and no ill effects will become either of the persons that have entered it willingly. Please state your agreement, for the Order to process this official request of courtship.”

Draco read aloud, and then looked up at Harry with confusion and joy in equal measure written on his face.

“But… how? This is not typical at all.” He said, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Please state your agreement, dragon.” He replied.

“Yes, of course, I agree to the conditions provided.”

Magic circled the scroll, both of their hands, and for a moment was blindingly bright before disappearing to be filed away in a vault in the depths of Gringotts.

“Follow me, my Dragon.” Harry said, as he held his hand out and walked to the manor.

“Where are you taking me? What is happening?”

“Patience, Draco.” He murmured against the mans cheek, as they walked in and past a clearly pleased Thaxis, to the large library at the end of the foyer.

He pushed the doors open, and walked to the large oak desk that he’d last seen half a year previously. Upon it was a jewel encrusted box, the two snakes lovingly wrapped around it, looking at him with their blank stares that somehow still held a level of anticipation.

His hand never left Draco’s as he turned to the man.

“If you are committed to me, to this, to us. If you are willing to accept the past for what it has been, and you are willing to expect the beauty that the future can hold for us both. If you are ready for what we can make together, please tell me now. If not, let me know – and the courtship contract will dissolve. No harm will come to you, on my magic.” He asked, his voice firm, but he was unable to hide his hope.

Draco looked at him, his eyes said everything that Harry hoped to hear, but he needed the man to say it.

“I need your words… they need your words, my Dragon.” He whispered, his thumb moving gently in the hand he was holding.

“Yes. On my magic. I accept the past that got us to this point. I look forward to the future of who we can be together. I love you. I swear on my magic that I do.” Came the firm voice, only made more profound by the way that Harry could feel him shiver in his hands.

Harry turned to the two snakes, the gold one letting out a small hisssss of acceptance.

I" come to you understanding now, that which you asked of me before. I swear upon my magic, upon the magic of yesteryear, and the magic of what is to come that I am prepared to protect, honor, cherish, and give of me what my bonded needs. I promise that I will love him, not in spite of what has been, but because of all that has been, and in the hope of what is to come."

The words slid out of his lips, carrying magic on their weighted sound. The two snakes nodded, and the silver one let loose the lock first, followed by the golden snake that unraveled. Two clicks happened, and then the small casket popped slightly open.

Harry looked at the man to his left, and smiled.

“Are you ready, my dragon?” he asked, and smiled when Draco nodded enthusiastically.

He reached out, flipped the lid back, and they both sighed at what they saw.

Two bands lay within on black velvet.

One was made of solid silver, the other solid gold.

The silver one had a single red ruby enlayed within the top of it.

The gold one had a single green emerald inlayed within the top of it.

For what has been. Harry heard one snake say, and to what will be. he heard the other.

He lifted the silver ring, and pulled Draco’s hand toward him.

“I promise to love you, to hold you, to carry you when you are unable to walk, to cherish you at all times. I promise to trust in this love. I promise to hold hope that every day will be better than the last. I promise to care for every piece of you, every part of you, every moment that I spend with you. From this moment on, my dragon, my love, Draco Malfoy. I commit my heart to yours, and carry yours always.”

He slid the ring on the pale, slender, and beautiful finger that was waiting for him, and the magic settled around him, he looked up and saw the tears that were forming on the edges of Draco’s eyes.

“Who gave you the right to be this good with words? When were you ever this good with words?” he asked, half joking, but his tears belied his joy at the moment.

“I might have practiced this many times in the last two months…” Harry said, his cheeks flushing at the admission.

He watched Draco reach into the small box, pulling out the gold band, and then pulling Harry’s hand toward him.

“I promise on my magic that I will deserve you every moment, every day, until the end of it all. I promise that, if it is in my power you will never go without, not love, not a home, not a moment in time. I promise you, that your heart will know only the greatest of care, because I will place it where it has always belonged, in me. Within me. I swear to you, my Lion, my love, Harry Potter, that I commit my heart to yours. I commit my soul, my body, my magic to you, to us, to all we will be.”

Harry’s heart beat a steady deep thrum in his throat, as he watched the gold band slip on his finger.

A flash of blinding white magic lit the room, and a rush of heat and then cool went through him, until suddenly it was only the two of them again, and everything was the same, but nothing would be the same ever again.

“I think, my dragon, that the courtship has finally come to a close.” He whispered, as his brought his hand up to caress the other man’s cheek.

“Thank Merlin. Now, take me to bed.” Draco replied, as he leaned in and kissed Harry.

Yes, he thought, but was unable to speak as he felt the rush of magic consume him.

~~Finite~~