Chapter Text
For disclaimer, summary, and other information, please see Chapter 1.
Beta'd by the patient CDumbledore and my friend eynhashofet (Bubba).
Double Edged Sword 82 Snakes
As stunned as Draco was, he quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard what the wizard had said. He thanked Merlin silently that no one had. He pulled Harry up by the hand and took him over to the other wizards. Ron was in the process of pulling back their sleeves. Marks were there, but they consisted of a sword with a snake wrapped around a blade. Ron looked up at the gathering crowd. “I have to report this. I will be right back with a few Aurors. Seamus the doors will be sealed.”
Draco stepped forward. “Ron, I'm taking Harry home with me. If you have any questions come to the house.” Draco took Harry’s arm in his and Disapparated before any disagreement arose. Within a few moments of arriving in the parlour, the lion was roaring at the front door. Remus and Lucius entered with Harry’s notebook, and Harry and Draco’s cloaks.
Dobby and Tizzy popped in. Dobby took the wizards cloaks, while Tizzy busily set up a tray of tea and biscuits on the parlour table. Harry shivered; with a flick of his hand the fire was started, and the sconces lit. Draco shuddered; it reminded him of Dumbledore.
“You need to document what just happened, Harry,” Lucius said as he handed Harry his book.
Harry opened the book, which practically flew open to a page of interest. “I need to go to the basement,” Harry said as he vanished.
The three remaining wizards looked at each other; no one knew what to say or where to begin. Draco finally sat down on the couch, and Remus and Lucius followed automatically. “He’s stronger than he was. I will take a look at his calendar downstairs, but my guess is that he has been training daily for the last three years if not more.”
“But,” Remus said, “it doesn’t explain how he knew about the marks. Damn, Draco, those were not even the Dark Mark.”
Lucius cleared his throat. “Draco, I have told Remus and Cissa that my mark agitates me now and then, usually in the morning. It is nothing painful, more like irritating.” Lucius pulled the drawer out of the side table next to the chair; he retrieved his pipe and tobacco. Draco had never realised the drawer was there.
Remus leant forward. “We know the spell Harry cast after Nagini was destroyed, set up a rebound spell for any Death Eater that attacks either of you. Is there more to it than that?”
Draco clasped his hands bringing his index fingers to a point and rested his forehead on them. He needed time to think about what the fallen wizard had said, and decided he would keep it to himself right now. He needed more information. He could smell the ring of smoke blown in his direction; he batted the ring away as it circled above his head. “Remus, I can’t discuss this right now. I’ll be back.”
Draco Apparated to the basement. At first, Draco thought Harry was just adding things to his schedule, but then his eyes popped when he realized it wasn’t Harry’s normal schedule. Draco came up and stood next to Harry. “What is this, Harry?”
“Events, I mark events,” Harry answered without turning his head.
“Why?”
Harry turned towards Draco. “I don’t know; it’s all related, and I can’t figure out why.”
“What events are you marking?” Draco said inquisitively, trying not to show concern in his voice.
“Attacks, strange events… just events.”
“Harry, there haven’t been any attacks reported lately.”
Harry looked at him, his eyes expressing painful confusion. “Draco, yes there have. Look and see.” Harry pointed at and touched the words Show all events. The parchment shimmered and then came to life with multiple squares of colours filling in the calendar. Draco could see notes upon notes in each square.
Draco slowly advanced and examined the random writings Harry had inserted into the calendar. From what he could tell, they were freak accidents, arrests, wizard fights, trials, prison breakouts, weddings, births, and death announcements. He couldn’t figure out the colour coding, until he realized these weren’t all coming from Britain, but from Europe, the Far East, the Middle East, Africa, North and South America, and Australia. Draco measured his tone and words carefully, “How are you getting this information?”
“Newspapers,” Harry said returning his gaze to the wall.
“Harry, Remus and Lucius are upstairs. I need to bring them down here, if it’s okay?” Draco hoped Harry was still cognizant of who they were.
“I guess it's okay,” Harry responded as if he wasn’t really listening. “I just wish I could see the connections.”
Draco grasped Harry’s arm in his hand. “Listen, Harry, we need to talk about the incident at the Crossed Wands when they come down, and I need them to validate your work here, but I do not want you to mention what the wizard said to you when you stroked his arm. Understood?”
Harry looked down at the grasp, which must have been stronger than Draco realized, and said, “Sure.”
Remus and Lucius Apparated back downstairs with Draco. Draco explained what Harry was doing. Remus had not seen the calendar for years and had no idea when the evolution that had occurred. Once over the shock, he focused on what Draco was saying. “…Harry thinks there is a pattern or connection here somewhere?”
“Harry, I mean no disrespect, but son, how do you know there is? It could just be random events.”
Draco jumped in before Harry could answer. “No, Father. Look, he’s marked my attack in Bulgaria. He has marked events where you were mentioned in the paper. I want you and Remus to think of any attacks or events you can. Anything where you knew there was someone with a Dark Mark involved.”
Remus and Lucius approached the parchment and read notes scattered throughout. Lucius shook his head; he turned to Harry and forced the word out, “How?”
“This is the answer to the question you asked upstairs,” Draco said, squinting his eyes just thinking of the implications.
Remus stuttered, “He’s tracking them. What was the spell, Draco?”
“I don’t know. Only Harry knows the spell; it was in Parseltongue, after all. It wasn’t something we planned together and it wasn’t part of our bonding. Harry planned it sometime between the ceremony and the duel.”
Harry turned away from the wall and sighed heavily. “What spell? Please enlighten me on what the question was upstairs.”
Draco did his best to explain Voldemort, the Death Eaters, the Dark Mark, and Horcruxes. Lucius showed Harry his mark. Harry asked if he could touch it. Draco was about to stop him from doing so, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to know. Lucius lifted his left forearm in front of Harry. They all stood there, transfixed. Harry ran his finger down the light grey skull and snake, and they watched it come to life. Lucius jerked back and hissed in pain.
Draco quickly explained to Harry the duel, Nagini, and the spell said in Parseltongue. Harry stepped over to the parchment and fiddled with it until his regular schedule came up. He selected magic training and then spells. A collective gasp came from the other three; the paper filled with more spells than they had ever seen listed in one place. Draco did a quick inventory as the selection diminished to those written in Parseltongue; at least that is what he thought it was. His brief glance at the long list of spells let him know Harry knew Dark Magic, more much more than Draco had ever known.
A dozen or so spells remained; they were written in gibberish and then, finally, there was only one. Harry released a laugh so loud that other three jumped. “I fail to see the humour, Harry,” Lucius drawled, hating to be startled, and his son was continually doing that to him tonight.
Harry put his arm around Lucius. “Well, Father, I am not sure how long I have been working on this, and trying to figure out the connection, but my guess is a long time. I still do not know why I am doing it, but the connection has been in front of my face the whole time. It is my face. It is me. The spell has two parts, the first says to connect to those with the snake and the second says to protect the caster from those with the snake. It’s more than that; it is just difficult to translate.”
“Harry?” Draco asked softly, “When did you learn the spell? Where did it come from?”
Harry let go of Lucius, and reset the parchment back to the events. He sat on the floor and opened his book. After many painfully quiet moments, he looked up at the three sets of questioning eyes. “I don’t know.”
He leaned back on his hands and stared at the parchment. Draco could feel his father staring at him. He knew his father had an inkling of what had happened. But he would not look at him to confirm it. Draco broke the silence. “But, Harry, it protects me too, yet I don’t feel what you feel. Tonight you knew they were coming. I didn’t. I could only feel your power.”
Harry called for his book and then asked plainly, “Draco, have you kept up with your training? Have you expanded your magic?”
“No,” Draco said regretfully.
“That is why. I’ve increased my power and my notes say you have let yours diminish.” Draco heard Remus and Lucius muttering at the directness of Harry’s statement.
Draco sat down in front of Harry and reached for Harry’s hands; he held each of them in his palms. “Harry, you'll teach me,” Draco said, not asking, but stating.
“Yes, I will teach you,” Harry responded and then gave Draco a smile filled with a lot of white teeth, “but you will have to remind me tomorrow.”
Draco nodded. “Always.”
Draco looked up at Remus. “We need to have Hermione research the spell, and if we tell Hermione, then we tell Ron.”
Remus was back looking at the entries. “Yes, Hermione would help, and Ron can benefit us too, along with Tonks. We can see if some of these cases are closed. Harry where do you get this information?”
“Newspapers.”
“Where do you get the newspapers?” Remus asked pointedly.
Harry looked in his book and looked at the other three, bewildered. His book had failed him. “I don’t know.”
“Dobby!” Draco yelled.
pop
“Master Draco need Dobby?”
“Dobby, do you know anything about Harry reading newspapers?”
“Dobby is picking up papers at the front gate every day and putting them on the dining room table.”
“Do you know who delivers them? And I didn’t see any papers this morning.”
“Dobby does not know where papers come from. Dobby and Tizzy think Master Draco and Harry Potter not be disturbed this morning.”
Draco gave the elf an appreciative smile and sent him on his way.
“In the meantime,” Remus said after Dobby had left, “Harry cannot be taking down wizards because they have a Mark.”
Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek and then went back to his book. Harry looked up and said, “Intent, they were going to strike; they were after Draco. The others were not.”
Remus shook his head in disbelief. Lucius was holding onto his mask well, with the exception of the vein pulsating at the corner of his forehead. “What others?” Draco asked trying not to show his concern that the wizards were after him.
“The four at the table, the wizard argued with them before going to the loo. They had Marks, but no intent to cause harm.”
“Harry, why were they after Draco?” Lucius asked calmly in contrast to the flash in his eyes.
“Because Draco almost killed me.”
“WHAT!?”
“What? What?” Harry replied taken aback. “I don’t know; that is all I picked up. I felt awareness, then intent to do harm, and then, as the door opened, I knew it was intended for Draco. I don’t know why they would be upset over that.”
pop
“Harry Potter’s friends, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, are upstairs,” Dobby informed the group.
“Send them down,” Draco said.
pop
Hermione and Ron came down the stairs. Hermione’s Healer had restricted her from Apparating, and she could only use a Portkey or the Floo. Ron spewed forth a few epitaphs when he saw the wall. Hermione just grinned ear to ear. She sat down next to Harry, introduced herself properly, and then wrapped her arms around him. “Harry, I'm so proud of you; this is brilliant.”
Harry blushed and said, “Thanks, and obviously you were involved with getting me started.”
“Oh, Harry, we gave you matchsticks, and you have built a castle,” Hermione said, almost on the verge of tears. She shook her head. “Damned hormones.”
“So, Ron and Hermione, we were just talking about you, but first I have to know, Ron, is this an official visit?” Draco asked point blank.
“Did you find anything out from those four?” Remus asked, knowing he was crossing a line as Ron was an Auror, but his old position of being leader of the Order of the Phoenix surfaced, and he couldn’t resist.
“No, it's not an official visit. I was just concerned. As to the other, uh, well, I can’t…”
Draco cut in. “Ron, why don’t we tell you what is going on here, and then you tell us what you can. Hermione, we are going to need your help; I'm sure you will figure out with what.” Draco stopped and sat back down next to Harry. “Do you want to explain what you’ve been doing and what happened tonight, or would like me to?”
Harry leaned over and whispered, “Would you mind? The events earlier are really getting fuzzy.”
Draco’s insides melted hearing Harry say it; he wasn’t sure he liked the idea that Harry knew when things were drifting out of his consciousness, maybe forever. He gave Harry a quick kiss and squeezed his hand. “Okay, I’ll give a quick summary,” Draco said as if it were a mutual decision.
Draco synthesized the information, emphasizing the important points, but keeping enough detail for Ron, Hermione, and Harry to comprehend the significance of the situation. As he concluded, he watched the light come on in their eyes. He ended with, “So, Ron, what we would like to know is if you can validate the intent of the two groups of wizards and if they gave you an explanation. And from you Hermione…”
Hermione jumped to the point. “You want me to research the Dark Mark, the properties involved, and where it came from.”
“Yes, exactly,” Draco said as he noticed everyone was now sitting on the floor. “Shall we go upstairs and have dinner while we continue discussing this?” Harry picked up his notebook, reading it as he led the way.
They all climbed the stairs and headed for the dining room. Harry was still a few steps ahead, and Draco saw that the boots gave Harry more height. His mind took a brief respite from current matters, reflecting back to the previous years when they were the same height, and now he was a good four to five inches taller than Harry. Ron was even taller than Draco was by an inch or two, but still, Harry was the one with the presence of power.
Draco smiled as Harry reached back with his hand and detoured him into the parlour, telling the others they would be right back. Harry walked him over to the far end of the room, next to a square table where a dragon puzzle lay half-completed. Draco was confused, but pleased when Harry Disapparated them to the bedroom. Harry motioned for him to sit on the bed where he joined Draco
Draco had only been home less than two days and in that time Harry had continually surprised him. With every moment they spent together, he was falling more deeply in love. Harry gently pushed him back on the bed and lay on top of him, his weight braced on his elbows. He leaned over and brushed his lips across Draco’s as he asked, “Are you okay? You know I won’t let anyone touch you. I'll protect you.”
Draco felt the Phoenix on his back spread its wings; it was as if he were being hugged from both sides. “Yes, Harry, I know that, but I'm the one who is supposed to protect you.”
Harry’s lips stole a quick kiss. “You have. I know what that wizard said to me, and I know you are intentionally not telling anyone.”
“We need time to figure out what it means.”
“It’s serious, isn’t it?”
Draco lifted his head and stole his own kiss. “Yes, very, but we will figure it out.”
“Okay, but right now I want to make sure you are okay, that we are okay.”
Draco raised his knees and wrapped his legs around Harry. “Of course we are okay, Harry. Did I do something to make you feel otherwise?”
“No, not really, but I see a sadness in your eyes, and I’ve got this feeling that I can’t shake. I think I've missed you. I know right at this moment, I can’t stand the thought of missing you.”
Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him closer. Their lips met and Draco kissed him frantically as tears streamed down his face. The moment was so intense; Draco thought he could taste it. All he could think of was that his Harry wanted him. Somewhere in Harry’s mixed up brain, Harry knew he wanted Draco and loved him. It was enough, Draco said to himself. If Harry never healed, this was enough.
Harry swiped the tears away with the tip of his tongue. Draco felt like a treasured pet, Pet, PET! “Harry, where are the cats?” Draco asked.
Harry replied through the licks, “What cats?”
Much to the dismay of Draco, Harry ceased coating his face with his saliva and mentioned they should get back downstairs before Draco had to repeat his synopsis. Draco agreed, but told Harry to go ahead; he needed to use the loo.
Draco splashed cold water on his face before returning. The frigid droplets made him shudder; he much preferred the warm wet tongue of Harry. He looked in the mirror at himself; grey eyes with specks of blue returned the stare. He needed to be strong. Harry had done something, and Harry needed Draco to be strong. He took a deep breath before returning downstairs to engage in more conversations of Dark Marks throughout the world.
Draco arrived and sat in his chair across from Harry; the table had been reduced. Everyone was eating the roasted chicken, vegetables, and mashed potatoes. Before Draco took a bite he asked, “Where are the cats?”
Remus let out a long whistle, while Lucius swallowed his first bite of potato. “At the Manor. Your mother missed them.”
Draco’s eyes flared. “I want them back. She can visit them here, and if I find out you used the Cruciatus on them, I will personally return the favour.”
All forks clanked to their plates, except Lucius’s, who raised a bite of carrot to his mouth and responded, “What kind of wizard would do that to such sweet balls of fur?” He bit the carrot in half.
“A dark, evil one, Father,” Draco said as he took a sip of wine. “Harry may not remember, but I do.”
Lucius swallowed the well-chewed carrot and brought the wine goblet to his lips. “You must be mistaking me with some other bastard of a father.”
Ron, Hermione, and Remus were highly amused; they hadn’t seen or heard a Malfoy verbal joust in a while. Harry sat there eating as if he didn’t have a clue, and at the moment didn’t particularly care to have one.
Draco lowered his wine. “My mistake, Father; you’re right, it must have been your evil twin.”
“That’s okay, Son, people often confuse us.”
A notebook came drifting into the room and landed next to Harry, who promptly began taking notes.
“Harry, what are you writing about?” Hermione asked, knowing that Harry didn’t usually refer to his notebook during small talk.
Harry looked at her and then to Lucius. “I’m writing a note that Father has an evil twin who likes to torture cats.” Draco saw the telltale look on Harry’s face.
Lucius’s wine dribbled down his chin, not quite having been able to swallow fast enough before talking. “Harry, I was joking. I do not have an evil twin.”
“You don’t? Then who did the Cruciatus on the cat?” Harry asked. Draco snickered.
“I did, when Draco was very young. I used to be an evil bastard.” Remus coughed. “Well, actually I still can be, if the moment is right.”
Harry wrote another line as he spoke aloud, “Father was mean to cats, but now sleeps with them, must investigate.” Draco placed his hand over his mouth, afraid he would spray the wine on everyone if he didn’t swallow soon.
“Really, Harry, that is my personal business,” Lucius said a little more sternly than he intended.
Draco swallowed, but still could only squeak out, “You sleep with the cats?”
Lucius took a bite of chicken before adding, “I find their purring comforting. Now let’s get back to evil wizards.”
“Okay, Father, but I want my kitties. Just tell Mother to transform. I'm sure she could purr for you. You do remember how to make her purr, don’t you?” Draco held his mask while the others were chewing on their bottom lips waiting for the volley back.
“Draco, what a lovely idea; I haven’t seen pretty kitty since she mauled her sister, may the bitch rest in hell.”
Draco smirked at his father; Lucius smirked back. The discussion was over.
Draco turned to Hermione. “So is the Golden Trio ready to form again?”
Hermione winked at Draco. “No, these days all of my adventures take place in one building.”
Draco turned to Remus. “What about reforming the Order of the Phoenix, at least a limited version of it?” The golden glint of excitement in Remus’s soft eyes was apparent to all. “Maybe just this group here, plus Tonks and Mother, if she would like. Really, Father, that’s the second time you’ve dribbled wine; are you getting old and feeble?”
Lucius wiped his mouth and chin with the cloth napkin; he scowled at his blond haired son. “No, Draco, I’m as virile as ever. I just don’t think it suits Narcissa at this time.”
“Well, I am going to invite her anyway,” Draco said smugly. “Remus, I think for the time being we should meet here, given the information Harry has collected is in the basement.”
“I agree, Draco,” Remus said. “I think we should have a formal ceremony next week, if that is acceptable.” They all nodded.
“Can you put that in the schedule, Harry, and make it recurring?” Draco asked.
“Sure,” Harry responded as he wrote notes between bites of the chicken. Harry stopped and read a few pages and looked up at the dinner guests. His eyes looked at the nametags and focused on Ron. “So, Ron, what can you tell us about the wizards at the Crossed Wands?”
Draco could see the slight discomfort in Ron’s demeanor. He doubted Ron could side step a direct question from Harry. Hermione put her hand on Ron’s and gave it a squeeze. “You were correct, Harry; they intended to harm Draco. They wouldn't have killed him; they understood the bond. When asked why they were upset over Harry’s possible demise, they were not able to tell us. They seemed to be under a very strong vow. We did pick up that they didn’t particularly like Harry, so it was very confusing. We had to release them, as they actually had not broken any laws. One thing to note, the one from the bar is from Italy, and the others are from the Netherlands. The four at the other table were marked too, and also from Italy.”
“International,” Harry said to no one in particular and then wrote some notes.
“How did Shacklebolt react to this incident?” Lucius inquired.
“He asked about Harry and I told him about his magic coming back. I was apprehensive about his response, but he actually smiled. He said to have Remus come talk to him on Monday.” Draco breathed a sigh of relief, but the pages were flying in Harry’s notebook until he settled on a leaf.
“We need to keep him informed; not as a member, but informed.”
Hermione giggled. Harry gave her a look of ‘What?’ She gave his hand a friendly squeeze. “Harry, you are right of course. I’m only laughing because after all these years, you still amaze me.”
Harry squeezed her hand back. “Ah, but does Ron?”
It was decided over the rest of dinner that any news they heard dealing with possible wizards or witches with Dark Marks would be filtered through Harry, to see if there was a connection. Hermione would do her research. Everyone at the table could tell she couldn’t wait for Monday to get back to the Ministry. Harry and Draco would continue to try to understand why certain acts were happening, and see if they could uncover when Harry had learnt the spell, and why he performed it.
They retired to the parlour, and Draco played the piano to entertain them. Dobby and Tizzy served brandy and coffee. Draco wasn’t sure when coffee had started being served in the house. He was in favour of it, but it was another occurrence that had happened in his absence. Draco was about to begin another song, when Harry stood up and bid everyone good night. He walked over to Draco, kissed him, and told him he could look at the calendar, but not to make any changes. Draco was caught off guard until Lucius said, “He does this once in a while. It is as if his mind says enough and shuts down. I guarantee you he will be fast asleep in five minutes.”
After finishing his next song, Draco went upstairs to check on Harry. He returned saying Harry was asleep and looked to be dreaming already.
“I think, given what the doctor said Harry does a lot of processing at night in his sleep. I wouldn't distract him if that's what's happening,” Lucius said. They all recognized that Lucius had been paying attention to Harry’s habits for a long time.
The group broke up, and Ron, Hermione, and Remus left, only Lucius remained. Draco and Lucius sat in the parlour by the fire. Lucius retrieved his pipe and asked for another brandy. Draco joined him. After five minutes of silence, Draco asked, “Father, what do you want to say to me? You’ve stayed for a reason.”
Lucius rested the pipe in the crook of his hand and finally spoke, “Draco, I don’t want to interfere with you and Harry’s relationship, but there are some things you need to understand. Harry thrives when he sticks to his schedule. I know you have plans for the future, and I believe that a child and a career at Hogwarts can fit in, but you need to fit into Harry’s life right now. As you can tell, he's in perfect physical shape and his mind is most clear when on schedule.
"Take him to lunch now and then, or take him to dinner, but, Draco, let him keep his routine. If you have a problem with it, slowly make the alterations. Do you think you can handle that? His schedule is a bit restrictive.”
Draco nodded as his father spoke. He was right. Harry had been moving on, but the schedule had kept him balanced. The predictability of it might be part of what allowed him to increase the time span of how long he could hold a memory.
“Now, one other item before I go,” Lucius continued as he snuffed the smoldering tobacco out in the bowl of his pipe. “Harry and Narcissa have a standing date on Sunday afternoons at the Manor. I will leave it up to them to tell you what they are up to, but I would like you to come along. It will give us time to spend together, alone. A little chess or horseback riding might be in order.”
Draco’s insides felt like a little boy; his father wanted to spend time with him. He pushed the long bangs out of his eyes. “Sure, Father, I would enjoy that,” he said restraining himself from reaching over and giving his father an embrace.
After Lucius left, Draco was alone in the parlour. He would not disturb Harry, as much as he longed to have his body draped over him. He made his way to the potions room and started on his antidepressant potion. He had enough for the next week, but he knew he would be taking it for a long time.
He loved the lab: the smells, the texture of the ingredients, and the labeled colored glass bottles all lined up in perfect rows. A bubbling cauldron filled with liquid put him at peace. He was in control of each drop, each ingredient, and each stir. He could create a potion to heal, to kill, to sleep, to love, to fool, or to empower; it was all in his power to do so. His last potion had been made to kill; this one would be to calm and to heal. He liked this potion; the ingredients were simple, but the technique was critical.
He smiled as he chopped the St. John’s Wort; he thought of Harry and the elves in here making massage oil. Leave it to Harry to find his own unique way to enjoy potion making. The spell Harry had added, now that was talent. The St. John’s Wort was finished. He carefully took the dried lavender buds and placed them on a marble slab. He took the long, thin silver knife, placed the blade on top of the buds, and pressed down on one side of the blade before transferring the pressure to the other. The oil released was pure and bountiful. He picked up the syringe and pulled back the stopper, sucking up a few drops. The St. John’s Wort was now completely incorporated into the base liquid. He stirred it the required three clockwise turns, added six drops of lavender to the brown substance, gave it one quick powerful stir, and the potion turned to the required burgundy. He turned the fire down to let it simmer overnight. In the morning, he would add the crushed eucalyptus leaves and it would be complete.
Draco drank a bottle of his pre-packaged potion, rinsed the bottle, and left it to dry in the rack.
He strolled throughout the downstairs ending up in the kitchen. He opened a Butterbeer and sat on the kitchen barstool. He and Harry had held quite a few conversations in this room. Harry loved this kitchen; this was Harry’s domain, along with the house-elves. A quick smile came to his face, remembering his father walking in on them during one of Harry’s blowjobs. He felt the bile creep up his throat, his face clinched, and his eyes slammed shut. He laid his head on the cold marble island counter top and cried.
His mind seemed to register once again that it had been five years since that day. Where had the time gone? What the fuck had he been doing during those years? Five years at Hogwarts took forever, but these last ones, he could barely recollect. Screaming fans, smoky gay bars, random hotels, what had he accomplished? He was famous; he could sing, play, and write music, but what was that, compared to what Harry had been doing?
Life for Harry consisted of thirty minute increments, yet he had probably become the most powerful and disciplined wizard in centuries. The Muggle raised orphan now epitomized what being a wizard was about, and he, raised as pure-blood, could easily pass as a Muggle. They were out of synch. Draco sobbed through the revelations. He washed his face off with cold water for the second time that night and then Apparated to the basement. He was surprised to see Harry’s schedule up, when they had left, it had been the events that were showing. He felt as if Harry had wanted him to see it, to explore it.
Draco examined the schedule, a week's worth at a time. On weekdays and Saturdays Harry started the day with a jog around the property, showered, ate breakfast, perused the papers, entered data, gardened or cooked, ate lunch, practiced magical training including dueling, took a nap, did a physical workout, showered again, visited with guests, cooked dinner, listened to WWN–Harold Coulter Show, read, and then went to bed.
Draco could see the schedule replicating across the days, weeks, months, and years. There were exceptions. His parents occupied every Thursday night, and for the last six months, Sunday late afternoon. Monday’s visitor was Molly, Tuesday was Neville, Landry or Jarrod on Wednesdays, Hermione on Thursdays, and Friday was either Ron or Ginny or sometimes Bill. Late Saturday afternoons, Harry would go to Grimmauld Place and visit the Lupins, staying for dinner.
Draco smiled as he saw that once a month Severus would come over for Sunday brunch. What intrigued Draco was Saturdays. There was a four-hour empty period from late morning to early afternoon. He searched back and discovered it used to say training or occasionally potions. It had remained empty since the holidays. He touched one of the previous labeled Saturdays and no information was forthcoming. Sunday, he could see was a day of rest. No running or exercise, but it was filled with a variety of options, from cooking to reading to gardening.
He couldn’t resist his fingertip reached out and touched Ginny’s name.
Youngest member of your adopted family, the Weasleys.
The Weasley names were all listed and Ron was given the title of best friend.
Married January 10th, 2003 to Jacques Delacour.
One year younger than you.
Replaced you as Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.
Your first love, you broke up with her,
when you fell in love with Draco Malfoy (Your husband).
Wicked sense of humour, feisty, and intelligent,
will graduate from the Auror program in June 2003, and will be moving to France.
Likes to do jigsaw puzzles.
Draco quickly reviewed the others; Neville and Harry spent most of their time in the magical garden. Molly and Harry used the kitchen garden and cooked meals for the week. Bill and Harry would review finances, Landry and Jarrod would discuss wizarding architecture, interior design, and being gay in the wizarding world. Severus’s name brought laughter from Draco.
Your former Potions professor.
Loses patience easily.
Cuts you no slack for your current memory problem.
Was a spy for Dumbledore.
Likes stacked women.
Do not mention greasy hair or he will hex you.
He is currently a Potion Researcher at St. Mungo’s, a magical hospital.
Hated your father, James Potter, and your previous godfather, Sirius Black; both are now deceased, as is your mother, Lily Potter.
Draco shook his head at all the information Harry had gathered over the years. He knew if he touched any of the places or people mentioned more information would be available. It seemed never-ending. Finally, he gathered up enough nerve to touch his name. A little note in Harry’s scrawl appeared; command must be given verbally. It is in your notebook.
Draco stood in the middle of the basement and laughed. He laughed at himself, at Harry, at the whole situation. He was using an organization tool to find out what Harry thought of him, and what Harry knew about him for the last five years as he gallivanted across the world. Draco felt the wings flutter and he knew it was time to go to bed.
After preparing for bed, he wrote Harry a note and left it by his bed.
Harry,
Please add Draco to your complete schedule, except for the visitations by your family and friends. Draco is the gorgeous blond lying next to you.
I love you,
Draco–your husband.
Draco crawled into bed carefully as to not awaken Harry. He drank the warm vanilla milk by his bedside and lowered the fire. Harry rolled over and pulled Draco next to him until they were fully spooned. Draco smiled; he was home.
Tbc...