Misplaced Memories - Chapter 7/10
As the man advanced, Harry felt panic creep into his mind for the first time. His stomach suddenly churned uncomfortably. He pressed a hand against it and fell back into the chair as his eyes failed him again. Objects lost their clarity until the room was made up of swirling colours and one watery voice.
“Everything all right, Mr Potter?”
Chapter 7
Harry reached out with both hands and focused everything he had on summoning his pillow from six paces away. Nothing. “Fuck!” Stomping over to his bedside table, he snatched up his wand and tried again. “Accio pillow! ACCIO THE FUCKING PILLOW!” He threw the wand at the bed. It bounced off and clattered to the floor. He stormed over to the bathroom to keep himself from snapping the useless stick.
The sound of the door opening spun him around.
"I want to go home!" Harry demanded, pausing his pacing long enough to study the unfamiliar white-cloaked official-looking person who'd just slid into his room. Unlike the grandfatherly Healer Attwood, this man was tall and angular, quite fit, and had skin the colour of chocolate-frogs. His coarse hair was cropped short and dusted with grey at the temples. Harry scanned the eyes and mouth unable to guess the man’s age.
"I'm sorry, Mr Potter. Everyone involved with your recovery - those under the Ministry and St Mungo's - feel it necessary at this time to…"
“Why is my magic gone? I want to see Healer Malfoy!”
The man met his gaze straight on, and for a moment, seemed as puzzled as Harry. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t informed that your magic was affected in the attack.”
“It wasn’t! I just used it a few hours ago!” Harry shouted, leaving off the fact that he had used it to destroy his room.
The man nodded. “Here, let me experiment.” He shook his sleeve, and a wand was suddenly in his hand. “Nox.” Nothing happened, except he gave another thoughtful nod. “The compressor has been activated,” he said to himself.
Relief pushed through the anger. “It’s not just me?”
“No, it’s the room. When the compressor is running, it neutralises magic. It was likely employed to ensure your safety.”
"I’ve had enough with people telling me what’s best for me! When can I go home?” Once he'd said it, he realised how childish he was being, but he didn't feel bad enough to apologise. Instead, he switched tactics and lowered his voice. "I feel fine, honestly; I've got a handle on things now."
The man gestured for Harry to take a seat. "It's something that might be addressed in the future - since you do live with a very capable Healer - however for now, it is my duty to make you as comfortable as possible while you continue your stay with us." He finished up with a wink as a tray of refreshments appeared on the bed. "Please, help yourself."
Harry eyed the contents. He'd had nothing to eat since the night before, but after his sleeping potion episode with Draco, he'd been less trusting of friendly Healers with snacks. "Are you the replacement Healer?" he asked, lifting the lid off the tea for a good sniff.
"Sadly, no. Apologies, I should have already introduced myself, Healer Gauthier. I've been called in to study your blood - a Haematologist, I believe the Muggles say."
Harry grabbed a plate of toast and tomatoes and poured himself a steaming cup of tea. "What's wrong with my blood? I thought my memory was the problem."
"Nothing to worry about. It's all a part of the process to send you home as soon as possible. Determining the proper diagnosis, however, can be like trying to find apples on a blueberry shrub."
The man was trying his best, and it wasn’t fair to keep punishing him for something out of his control, so Harry reluctantly let go of his bad mood and attempted a half-smile. He figured he should at least try to be civil after his poor first impression. "It's all fruit, but you're not at the right tree yet?"
The Healer grinned in return. "Exactly. Perhaps your blood holds the clue we've been searching for."
Harry considered this for a few moments, finished his breakfast and started in on his tea. He thought of Draco while his emotions lifted and fell on the waves of an invisible ocean. He felt ashamed and embarrassed about some of the things he'd said and done, but in the next breath, he was trying to figure out the best way to get out of the room and back into Draco's arms. The ring, hanging once again around his neck, grew warm.
"When can I see Healer Malfoy?"
~*~
The mahogany desk reflected Draco's troubled expression as he surveyed the results of the past hour's work.
His office had never been so clean.
It was nearly impossible to ignore the urge to drop everything and check on Harry. There would be time to talk, he knew, time to repair the damage done, but somewhere between banishing everything from his desktop and hand-polishing Snape's empty frame, every ounce of patience had vanished. The ring against his chest was doing little to help. It kept pulsing out a constant reminder of Harry's own frustration and impatience to see him. Draco lifted his wand to request a short visit with Harry when the door suddenly flew open.
"Attwood is down," Butler panted, as his Patronus soared down the corridor and out of sight.
Draco was moving before the sentence truly sank in. "Injuries?"
"Unconscious, but other than that, he seems whole enough on the outside. I left him with Healer Abell and came to find you."
"What happened?"
"I was on my way to see how you were holding up. His door was cracked open, and I popped my head in for a ‘Good morning’. He was on the floor behind his desk, so I flagged down the first Healer I saw. Looks like he’s been given something - won’t wake up, so I thought it best to get my arse over here and send a Patronus to the nearest team in case there was more to it."
Draco nearly choked on his next breath. "Erastus is supposed to be with Harry right now!"
Butler shook his head. "The unit stationed at his room told me there's already someone in with him - tall, dark-skinned bloke."
Warning bells chimed in Draco's mind as his blood turned cold.
"Intruder!" Severus called out, suddenly filling his entire frame. "Fredrick the Fanciful believes there is an imposter in Potter's room."
The words cemented Draco's fears. “There is.”
~*~
"Healer Malfoy is attending a meeting at the moment, but I'm certain he will be looking in on you later this afternoon. Would you like me to pass a message on?"
"Oh. No, thank you." Harry looked up at the willow. It still swayed gently, but the thin shoots looked strange in their naked state. The clean-up staff was unable to make the leaves grow back. He never thought to ask them to remove it altogether; whole or not, it was a gift from Draco.
"The report says you had a rough night. If I may ask, how are you feeling now, Mr Potter?"
Like a selfish idiot, he thought to himself. "All right," Harry said with a shrug. "More embarrassed than anything. I know they fixed everything with magic, but if I have to pay for damages or for the extra work I gave the Aurors and…" He stopped himself short when the room began to blur slightly around the edges. A few blinks and the world came back into focus.
"Think nothing of it. They've probably seen worse, believe me.”
A thought struck Harry. “You said you were called in? You don’t normally work at St Mungo’s?”
“That’s right, I have a separate facility near Diagon Alley where I do private research.”
“Then how did you know I lived with…”
“You and your husband lead a very public life, Mr Potter, or you did before your mishap.”
Harry studied the man’s face again with renewed interest. “He said we don’t. We don’t even wear our…” Harry stood and looked toward the door. The ache to see Draco warred with his obligation to stay put.
The man held up his palms in a gesture of peace. “No disrespect intended, I assure you. I should be about my job now and stop causing you distress.” He pulled a tray of various instruments toward him. “May I have your left arm, please?"
As the man advanced, Harry felt panic creep into his mind for the first time. His stomach suddenly churned uncomfortably. He pressed a hand against it and fell back into the chair as his eyes failed him again. Objects lost their clarity until the room was made up of swirling colours and one watery voice.
“Everything all right, Mr Potter?”
It took more effort than it should have to turn his head and search for the abandoned breakfast tray. “The tea…” Harry managed, trying to make his sluggish body respond as cold sweat broke out over his face and neck. He slipped forward in his chair. “The fucking tea!”
The sound of cold laughter was the last thing Harry heard before he sank into darkness.
~*~
"Security breach!" Butler yelled into his wand as Draco uttered the code to set off the silent alarm throughout the hospital. They ran together, passing startled strangers and Draco's colleagues.
The Hospital itself seemed to come alive, but Draco barely noticed the magical barriers appearing at every doorway. He slowed his pace only when Butler’s hand closed around his arm. A foal Patronus galloped toward them and an unfamiliar voice radiated from it.
“We’ve got them both: Imposter being transported to Quarantine wing on the second floor - room D. Potter is unconscious but otherwise sound. The emergency team is seeing to him presently. Red mask found in Potter’s room.”
Draco took a few more steps toward the corridor that would lead him to Harry when he found Butler blocking his path.
“Come with me,” Butler ordered.
Draco blinked and shook head. He wanted Butler to understand, but the words wouldn’t come out right. “No. Harry. I need to…”
“Draco, I need you to identify Zabini, if that’s who it is. If we’re right, I want you there. He might talk to you, give us what we need to help Harry.”
The thought of anyone else’s hands on Harry and the millions of possible horrible things Blaise could have done to the man he loved, kept Draco’s feet pointed in the same direction. His head hurt with the heavy decision.
Butler clapped his hands around Draco’s shoulders.
“The staff are with him now-your people-good people, Draco. Let’s you and I go get the one responsible for this mess.”
A simple nod and Draco was moving with Butler toward the private lifts, anger fuelling his every stride. If Blaise was behind it all, the Aurors might not have enough left to arrest when the ‘meeting’ was over. A cold smile appeared on Draco’s lips at the thought.
~*~
“He’s coming to. Mr Potter, can you hear me?”
“Ow.”
Harry tried to focus on the voice, but the pain was overwhelming. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out. An image of Draco appeared. He was smiling, his fingers reaching out to slide through Harry’s hair. Harry dove deeper into the memory as warmth surrounded him. He wanted to stay there with those gentle hands and warm lips.
“He’s slipping. Drop the compression field now!”
Flashing lights out of the corner of his eye, pulled Harry’s attention away from the man below him. “The Floo. Draco, we’re getting a call.”
“I’m otherwise occupied,” Draco said, making his point with cool toes along the underside of Harry’s feet.
Harry raised himself to his hands and knees as the lamp flashed again. “I’m not arguing with you, but what if it’s important?”
“I’m important, Potter. Get your arse back over here. That’s a good boy.”
Harry smiled and obeyed, but his thoughts lingered on the call. “Everyone knows better than to call me on Halloween, so maybe it’s something…” Draco cut him off with a kiss.
“Focus. Listen, if someone wants us that desperately, they’ll come to the door.”
The knocking that began before Draco had finished his sentence would have made Harry laugh if he hadn’t been looking down at his very irritated lover.
“Dumbledore’s fucking sweets!” Draco yelled up to the ceiling. “It had better be something monumental, or someone is getting hexed straight to the moon!” He half-heartedly pushed at Harry’s chest. “Get off me. I’ll deal with this.”
Harry rolled to the side, grabbing the sheet on the way. He watched Draco, flushed, naked and angry grab his dressing gown and storm out of the room. He almost felt bad for whomever was on the other side of the door.
Almost.
Harry sank back into the bed to wait. His eyelids were starting to droop when Draco finally walked back into the room. His face was white and his eyes lacked focus. There was a piece of parchment crushed in his right hand. Harry bolted from the bed at the stricken look on his face. He was there to catch Draco as he fell to his knees.
“Who is it? Harry asked him, gently, dreading the answer. “Who’s gone?”
“My mother.”
Screaming. His head was exploding and someone was screaming at him. He threw up his hands to press them against his forehead, but someone forced them down again.
“Try Stasis, level three. His mind can’t take the backlash.”
“I’ve already cast level three! He’s somehow fighting it.”
“Mr Potter! If you let down your defences, we can help the pain. We need to put you to sleep for your own safety.”
The pain swelled in intensity as he fought to make sense out of all the words being spoken around him. He didn’t think he had the capacity to fight anything, but still, he tried to clear his thoughts, drop any defences he might be holding in place.
More voices and then numbness travelled slowly over him, masking the pain, but making his thoughts sluggish and muddled.
“Drums,” Harry slurred, thankful that the pain had fallen to a manageable level. “I hear drums.”
~*~
Draco waved his hand at the chair from the corner and it flew up behind the intruder. All it took was one jab from his finger to topple the man down into the seat.
Draco narrowed his focus, attempting to see the face he knew was underneath the magic. A quick waver-a flash of a bald pate, and Draco had his man. "I know it's you, Zabini. Where is it?"
The glamour fell away.
"I need to stop underestimating you, it seems," Blaise drawled, seemingly bored.
"You deal with me, now, and I'll give you to my good friend, Butler, here. You keep playing thick and I'll make sure to send your mother whichever bits are left."
“Auror presence is protection,” Blaise said, shifting his eyes momentarily to where Butler was leaning beside the door. “Your threats are wasted, Draco.”
Draco moved closer and lowered his voice. “Threats are no longer on the menu. I think you may deserve something more substantial for nearly killing the man I love.” Draco pulled back slightly. “I assume you know Auror Butler, Harry’s partner?”
Blaise met Draco’s gaze with emotionless eyes and the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “You have no proof I did anything.”
Butler took that moment to over-dramatise a yawn. “Tracking you down is tiring work, Zabini. I’m going to close my eyes over here for a few minutes. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen while I’m resting is no concern of mine.”
The smirk slid from Blaise’s lips and appeared on Draco’s.
“So let’s have it,” Draco ordered, his voice cold and sharp. Here’s your chance to be a gentleman and perhaps leave this room whole.”
Blaise straightened his back. "Be clear, Draco. What do you want?"
Draco’s patience shattered. He thrust his wand tip under Blaise's chin and pushed up. "His blood! You fucking took his blood! Where is it?"
~*~
“Harry, look at the glass of water!”
The ripples. I know. It happens every time we watch it.”
“Shhh! I love this part!”
“I have no idea why you love this film so much.” Harry pondered aloud, just before several pieces of popcorn hit him on the head.
“Shush. The T-Rex is closing in, and they all just sit there!” He threw another handful at the telly. “RUN!”
Harry chuckled. “Do you think they used drums to get that ripple effect?” he asked, snacking on a bit of kernel picked off the sofa.
Draco kept his eyes on the TV screen. “No. I looked it up.”
Harry laughed. “Where?”
“I read it on that Muggle film data-box website.”
Harry crossed his feet on the coffee table. “And?” Draco paused the film long enough to give Harry the get your feet off the table look. Harry contemplated leaving them there to see what would happen, but he liked sex too much to delay Draco’s favourite film and annoy him even longer. Once the offending feet were back on the rug, Draco answered.
“They plucked the strings of an electric bass guitar. The low frequency creates the water in the glass to ripple.”
“Cool.”
They watched for a few more minutes before Draco reached again to press pause on the remote.
“It’s amazing what they do without magic, isn’t it? I know it’s not possible, but can you imagine a world where Wizards and Muggles could handle each other’s knowledge?”
“I think that would be brilliant, but we both know it would probably end up like this.” Harry said, pointing at the frozen screen showing two Velociraptors tearing up the kitchen.
“Would we be the raptors or the little girl?”
“What’s this really about?” Harry asked.
Draco startled him with a brilliant kiss, but followed it up with an equally jarring elbow to the ribs as he readjusted himself on the sofa. “Shut it and watch the dinosaurs, Potter.”
“I think it’s time to admit you might have an addiction,” Harry teased, reaching across to grab the popcorn away.
“I have no idea what you’re on about,” Draco said with a straight face, stealing the bowl back again.
~*~
Blaise shrugged. “I wasn’t able to extract a usable amount.”
“Bollocks.”
"I just wanted enough to analyze, enough to determine if he truly is different from the rest of us."
Draco’s own blood was rushing, pounding in his ears as his heart hammered. “You think he’s - what - some kind of creature for you to experiment on?”
Blaise tilted his head and gazed at Draco with something akin to curiosity. “You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered at his luck, his character, his magic?”
Draco forced the words out through his teeth. “Skill and mettle have nothing to do with blood.”
“Perhaps, but how would one know if it was never examined?” Blaise asked, crossing his legs and ignoring the wand still pushing against his skin.
"And then what?” Draco asked. “You wouldn't risk something this big unless it had significant payoff."
"I won't lie, I knew there were thousands of possibilities, several ways to turn a profit - people who would pay dearly for even a drop of their saviour."
"Get to the point."
"That's all I'm giving you."
Draco pressed closer. "I'm not giving you a choice, Zabini. No one has any right to do what you did. Count yourself extremely fortunate I'm even giving you this opportunity."
Blaise had the audacity to laugh. "Oh, please. Years ago, maybe, but you don't have it in you now to do much damage. You’re a Healer, for Salazar’s sake. I wager you don’t have the stomach to take up torture in your place of business."
Draco took a deep breath and tried to imagine what Harry would do in his place, had the tables been turned. Aurors and Healers were both bound to protect, to not do harm. Blaise knew that, but Draco had something that Harry would never have - superb masking skills. He kept his eye contact steady while trailing his wand tip down to settle in-between Blaise’s legs.
"Do you really want to make that wager, Blaise? If Harry doesn't make a full recovery, I won't think twice about making you suffer."
"That's exactly why you won't hurt me, and you know it, Draco. As far as you know, I might be the only one who can cure him. You won't risk it."
Draco pulled his wand back and walked behind the chair. He bent forward until his mouth was hovering next to Blaise’s ear. “Think back, Blaise. Think on sixth and seventh year. I don’t recall you risking your reputation, your future or your life. You know what I’m willing to do to protect what’s mine. If you’re bluffing, you’ll never again see the outside world.”
~*~
Chapter 8
Thank you so much, again for reading and leaving comments. *squish*
“Everything all right, Mr Potter?”
Chapter 7
Harry reached out with both hands and focused everything he had on summoning his pillow from six paces away. Nothing. “Fuck!” Stomping over to his bedside table, he snatched up his wand and tried again. “Accio pillow! ACCIO THE FUCKING PILLOW!” He threw the wand at the bed. It bounced off and clattered to the floor. He stormed over to the bathroom to keep himself from snapping the useless stick.
The sound of the door opening spun him around.
"I want to go home!" Harry demanded, pausing his pacing long enough to study the unfamiliar white-cloaked official-looking person who'd just slid into his room. Unlike the grandfatherly Healer Attwood, this man was tall and angular, quite fit, and had skin the colour of chocolate-frogs. His coarse hair was cropped short and dusted with grey at the temples. Harry scanned the eyes and mouth unable to guess the man’s age.
"I'm sorry, Mr Potter. Everyone involved with your recovery - those under the Ministry and St Mungo's - feel it necessary at this time to…"
“Why is my magic gone? I want to see Healer Malfoy!”
The man met his gaze straight on, and for a moment, seemed as puzzled as Harry. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t informed that your magic was affected in the attack.”
“It wasn’t! I just used it a few hours ago!” Harry shouted, leaving off the fact that he had used it to destroy his room.
The man nodded. “Here, let me experiment.” He shook his sleeve, and a wand was suddenly in his hand. “Nox.” Nothing happened, except he gave another thoughtful nod. “The compressor has been activated,” he said to himself.
Relief pushed through the anger. “It’s not just me?”
“No, it’s the room. When the compressor is running, it neutralises magic. It was likely employed to ensure your safety.”
"I’ve had enough with people telling me what’s best for me! When can I go home?” Once he'd said it, he realised how childish he was being, but he didn't feel bad enough to apologise. Instead, he switched tactics and lowered his voice. "I feel fine, honestly; I've got a handle on things now."
The man gestured for Harry to take a seat. "It's something that might be addressed in the future - since you do live with a very capable Healer - however for now, it is my duty to make you as comfortable as possible while you continue your stay with us." He finished up with a wink as a tray of refreshments appeared on the bed. "Please, help yourself."
Harry eyed the contents. He'd had nothing to eat since the night before, but after his sleeping potion episode with Draco, he'd been less trusting of friendly Healers with snacks. "Are you the replacement Healer?" he asked, lifting the lid off the tea for a good sniff.
"Sadly, no. Apologies, I should have already introduced myself, Healer Gauthier. I've been called in to study your blood - a Haematologist, I believe the Muggles say."
Harry grabbed a plate of toast and tomatoes and poured himself a steaming cup of tea. "What's wrong with my blood? I thought my memory was the problem."
"Nothing to worry about. It's all a part of the process to send you home as soon as possible. Determining the proper diagnosis, however, can be like trying to find apples on a blueberry shrub."
The man was trying his best, and it wasn’t fair to keep punishing him for something out of his control, so Harry reluctantly let go of his bad mood and attempted a half-smile. He figured he should at least try to be civil after his poor first impression. "It's all fruit, but you're not at the right tree yet?"
The Healer grinned in return. "Exactly. Perhaps your blood holds the clue we've been searching for."
Harry considered this for a few moments, finished his breakfast and started in on his tea. He thought of Draco while his emotions lifted and fell on the waves of an invisible ocean. He felt ashamed and embarrassed about some of the things he'd said and done, but in the next breath, he was trying to figure out the best way to get out of the room and back into Draco's arms. The ring, hanging once again around his neck, grew warm.
"When can I see Healer Malfoy?"
~*~
The mahogany desk reflected Draco's troubled expression as he surveyed the results of the past hour's work.
His office had never been so clean.
It was nearly impossible to ignore the urge to drop everything and check on Harry. There would be time to talk, he knew, time to repair the damage done, but somewhere between banishing everything from his desktop and hand-polishing Snape's empty frame, every ounce of patience had vanished. The ring against his chest was doing little to help. It kept pulsing out a constant reminder of Harry's own frustration and impatience to see him. Draco lifted his wand to request a short visit with Harry when the door suddenly flew open.
"Attwood is down," Butler panted, as his Patronus soared down the corridor and out of sight.
Draco was moving before the sentence truly sank in. "Injuries?"
"Unconscious, but other than that, he seems whole enough on the outside. I left him with Healer Abell and came to find you."
"What happened?"
"I was on my way to see how you were holding up. His door was cracked open, and I popped my head in for a ‘Good morning’. He was on the floor behind his desk, so I flagged down the first Healer I saw. Looks like he’s been given something - won’t wake up, so I thought it best to get my arse over here and send a Patronus to the nearest team in case there was more to it."
Draco nearly choked on his next breath. "Erastus is supposed to be with Harry right now!"
Butler shook his head. "The unit stationed at his room told me there's already someone in with him - tall, dark-skinned bloke."
Warning bells chimed in Draco's mind as his blood turned cold.
"Intruder!" Severus called out, suddenly filling his entire frame. "Fredrick the Fanciful believes there is an imposter in Potter's room."
The words cemented Draco's fears. “There is.”
~*~
"Healer Malfoy is attending a meeting at the moment, but I'm certain he will be looking in on you later this afternoon. Would you like me to pass a message on?"
"Oh. No, thank you." Harry looked up at the willow. It still swayed gently, but the thin shoots looked strange in their naked state. The clean-up staff was unable to make the leaves grow back. He never thought to ask them to remove it altogether; whole or not, it was a gift from Draco.
"The report says you had a rough night. If I may ask, how are you feeling now, Mr Potter?"
Like a selfish idiot, he thought to himself. "All right," Harry said with a shrug. "More embarrassed than anything. I know they fixed everything with magic, but if I have to pay for damages or for the extra work I gave the Aurors and…" He stopped himself short when the room began to blur slightly around the edges. A few blinks and the world came back into focus.
"Think nothing of it. They've probably seen worse, believe me.”
A thought struck Harry. “You said you were called in? You don’t normally work at St Mungo’s?”
“That’s right, I have a separate facility near Diagon Alley where I do private research.”
“Then how did you know I lived with…”
“You and your husband lead a very public life, Mr Potter, or you did before your mishap.”
Harry studied the man’s face again with renewed interest. “He said we don’t. We don’t even wear our…” Harry stood and looked toward the door. The ache to see Draco warred with his obligation to stay put.
The man held up his palms in a gesture of peace. “No disrespect intended, I assure you. I should be about my job now and stop causing you distress.” He pulled a tray of various instruments toward him. “May I have your left arm, please?"
As the man advanced, Harry felt panic creep into his mind for the first time. His stomach suddenly churned uncomfortably. He pressed a hand against it and fell back into the chair as his eyes failed him again. Objects lost their clarity until the room was made up of swirling colours and one watery voice.
“Everything all right, Mr Potter?”
It took more effort than it should have to turn his head and search for the abandoned breakfast tray. “The tea…” Harry managed, trying to make his sluggish body respond as cold sweat broke out over his face and neck. He slipped forward in his chair. “The fucking tea!”
The sound of cold laughter was the last thing Harry heard before he sank into darkness.
~*~
"Security breach!" Butler yelled into his wand as Draco uttered the code to set off the silent alarm throughout the hospital. They ran together, passing startled strangers and Draco's colleagues.
The Hospital itself seemed to come alive, but Draco barely noticed the magical barriers appearing at every doorway. He slowed his pace only when Butler’s hand closed around his arm. A foal Patronus galloped toward them and an unfamiliar voice radiated from it.
“We’ve got them both: Imposter being transported to Quarantine wing on the second floor - room D. Potter is unconscious but otherwise sound. The emergency team is seeing to him presently. Red mask found in Potter’s room.”
Draco took a few more steps toward the corridor that would lead him to Harry when he found Butler blocking his path.
“Come with me,” Butler ordered.
Draco blinked and shook head. He wanted Butler to understand, but the words wouldn’t come out right. “No. Harry. I need to…”
“Draco, I need you to identify Zabini, if that’s who it is. If we’re right, I want you there. He might talk to you, give us what we need to help Harry.”
The thought of anyone else’s hands on Harry and the millions of possible horrible things Blaise could have done to the man he loved, kept Draco’s feet pointed in the same direction. His head hurt with the heavy decision.
Butler clapped his hands around Draco’s shoulders.
“The staff are with him now-your people-good people, Draco. Let’s you and I go get the one responsible for this mess.”
A simple nod and Draco was moving with Butler toward the private lifts, anger fuelling his every stride. If Blaise was behind it all, the Aurors might not have enough left to arrest when the ‘meeting’ was over. A cold smile appeared on Draco’s lips at the thought.
~*~
“He’s coming to. Mr Potter, can you hear me?”
“Ow.”
Harry tried to focus on the voice, but the pain was overwhelming. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out. An image of Draco appeared. He was smiling, his fingers reaching out to slide through Harry’s hair. Harry dove deeper into the memory as warmth surrounded him. He wanted to stay there with those gentle hands and warm lips.
“He’s slipping. Drop the compression field now!”
Flashing lights out of the corner of his eye, pulled Harry’s attention away from the man below him. “The Floo. Draco, we’re getting a call.”
“I’m otherwise occupied,” Draco said, making his point with cool toes along the underside of Harry’s feet.
Harry raised himself to his hands and knees as the lamp flashed again. “I’m not arguing with you, but what if it’s important?”
“I’m important, Potter. Get your arse back over here. That’s a good boy.”
Harry smiled and obeyed, but his thoughts lingered on the call. “Everyone knows better than to call me on Halloween, so maybe it’s something…” Draco cut him off with a kiss.
“Focus. Listen, if someone wants us that desperately, they’ll come to the door.”
The knocking that began before Draco had finished his sentence would have made Harry laugh if he hadn’t been looking down at his very irritated lover.
“Dumbledore’s fucking sweets!” Draco yelled up to the ceiling. “It had better be something monumental, or someone is getting hexed straight to the moon!” He half-heartedly pushed at Harry’s chest. “Get off me. I’ll deal with this.”
Harry rolled to the side, grabbing the sheet on the way. He watched Draco, flushed, naked and angry grab his dressing gown and storm out of the room. He almost felt bad for whomever was on the other side of the door.
Almost.
Harry sank back into the bed to wait. His eyelids were starting to droop when Draco finally walked back into the room. His face was white and his eyes lacked focus. There was a piece of parchment crushed in his right hand. Harry bolted from the bed at the stricken look on his face. He was there to catch Draco as he fell to his knees.
“Who is it? Harry asked him, gently, dreading the answer. “Who’s gone?”
“My mother.”
Screaming. His head was exploding and someone was screaming at him. He threw up his hands to press them against his forehead, but someone forced them down again.
“Try Stasis, level three. His mind can’t take the backlash.”
“I’ve already cast level three! He’s somehow fighting it.”
“Mr Potter! If you let down your defences, we can help the pain. We need to put you to sleep for your own safety.”
The pain swelled in intensity as he fought to make sense out of all the words being spoken around him. He didn’t think he had the capacity to fight anything, but still, he tried to clear his thoughts, drop any defences he might be holding in place.
More voices and then numbness travelled slowly over him, masking the pain, but making his thoughts sluggish and muddled.
“Drums,” Harry slurred, thankful that the pain had fallen to a manageable level. “I hear drums.”
~*~
Draco waved his hand at the chair from the corner and it flew up behind the intruder. All it took was one jab from his finger to topple the man down into the seat.
Draco narrowed his focus, attempting to see the face he knew was underneath the magic. A quick waver-a flash of a bald pate, and Draco had his man. "I know it's you, Zabini. Where is it?"
The glamour fell away.
"I need to stop underestimating you, it seems," Blaise drawled, seemingly bored.
"You deal with me, now, and I'll give you to my good friend, Butler, here. You keep playing thick and I'll make sure to send your mother whichever bits are left."
“Auror presence is protection,” Blaise said, shifting his eyes momentarily to where Butler was leaning beside the door. “Your threats are wasted, Draco.”
Draco moved closer and lowered his voice. “Threats are no longer on the menu. I think you may deserve something more substantial for nearly killing the man I love.” Draco pulled back slightly. “I assume you know Auror Butler, Harry’s partner?”
Blaise met Draco’s gaze with emotionless eyes and the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “You have no proof I did anything.”
Butler took that moment to over-dramatise a yawn. “Tracking you down is tiring work, Zabini. I’m going to close my eyes over here for a few minutes. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen while I’m resting is no concern of mine.”
The smirk slid from Blaise’s lips and appeared on Draco’s.
“So let’s have it,” Draco ordered, his voice cold and sharp. Here’s your chance to be a gentleman and perhaps leave this room whole.”
Blaise straightened his back. "Be clear, Draco. What do you want?"
Draco’s patience shattered. He thrust his wand tip under Blaise's chin and pushed up. "His blood! You fucking took his blood! Where is it?"
~*~
“Harry, look at the glass of water!”
The ripples. I know. It happens every time we watch it.”
“Shhh! I love this part!”
“I have no idea why you love this film so much.” Harry pondered aloud, just before several pieces of popcorn hit him on the head.
“Shush. The T-Rex is closing in, and they all just sit there!” He threw another handful at the telly. “RUN!”
Harry chuckled. “Do you think they used drums to get that ripple effect?” he asked, snacking on a bit of kernel picked off the sofa.
Draco kept his eyes on the TV screen. “No. I looked it up.”
Harry laughed. “Where?”
“I read it on that Muggle film data-box website.”
Harry crossed his feet on the coffee table. “And?” Draco paused the film long enough to give Harry the get your feet off the table look. Harry contemplated leaving them there to see what would happen, but he liked sex too much to delay Draco’s favourite film and annoy him even longer. Once the offending feet were back on the rug, Draco answered.
“They plucked the strings of an electric bass guitar. The low frequency creates the water in the glass to ripple.”
“Cool.”
They watched for a few more minutes before Draco reached again to press pause on the remote.
“It’s amazing what they do without magic, isn’t it? I know it’s not possible, but can you imagine a world where Wizards and Muggles could handle each other’s knowledge?”
“I think that would be brilliant, but we both know it would probably end up like this.” Harry said, pointing at the frozen screen showing two Velociraptors tearing up the kitchen.
“Would we be the raptors or the little girl?”
“What’s this really about?” Harry asked.
Draco startled him with a brilliant kiss, but followed it up with an equally jarring elbow to the ribs as he readjusted himself on the sofa. “Shut it and watch the dinosaurs, Potter.”
“I think it’s time to admit you might have an addiction,” Harry teased, reaching across to grab the popcorn away.
“I have no idea what you’re on about,” Draco said with a straight face, stealing the bowl back again.
~*~
Blaise shrugged. “I wasn’t able to extract a usable amount.”
“Bollocks.”
"I just wanted enough to analyze, enough to determine if he truly is different from the rest of us."
Draco’s own blood was rushing, pounding in his ears as his heart hammered. “You think he’s - what - some kind of creature for you to experiment on?”
Blaise tilted his head and gazed at Draco with something akin to curiosity. “You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered at his luck, his character, his magic?”
Draco forced the words out through his teeth. “Skill and mettle have nothing to do with blood.”
“Perhaps, but how would one know if it was never examined?” Blaise asked, crossing his legs and ignoring the wand still pushing against his skin.
"And then what?” Draco asked. “You wouldn't risk something this big unless it had significant payoff."
"I won't lie, I knew there were thousands of possibilities, several ways to turn a profit - people who would pay dearly for even a drop of their saviour."
"Get to the point."
"That's all I'm giving you."
Draco pressed closer. "I'm not giving you a choice, Zabini. No one has any right to do what you did. Count yourself extremely fortunate I'm even giving you this opportunity."
Blaise had the audacity to laugh. "Oh, please. Years ago, maybe, but you don't have it in you now to do much damage. You’re a Healer, for Salazar’s sake. I wager you don’t have the stomach to take up torture in your place of business."
Draco took a deep breath and tried to imagine what Harry would do in his place, had the tables been turned. Aurors and Healers were both bound to protect, to not do harm. Blaise knew that, but Draco had something that Harry would never have - superb masking skills. He kept his eye contact steady while trailing his wand tip down to settle in-between Blaise’s legs.
"Do you really want to make that wager, Blaise? If Harry doesn't make a full recovery, I won't think twice about making you suffer."
"That's exactly why you won't hurt me, and you know it, Draco. As far as you know, I might be the only one who can cure him. You won't risk it."
Draco pulled his wand back and walked behind the chair. He bent forward until his mouth was hovering next to Blaise’s ear. “Think back, Blaise. Think on sixth and seventh year. I don’t recall you risking your reputation, your future or your life. You know what I’m willing to do to protect what’s mine. If you’re bluffing, you’ll never again see the outside world.”
~*~
Chapter 8
Thank you so much, again for reading and leaving comments. *squish*