Strong Love

When Harry and Burke entered the briefing room, Harry had to smile when he noticed that there were way fewer documents on the table than there used to be. Obviously, his teammates had decided not to show Frank everything yet, just in case he was planning on betraying them. Harry, however, wasn't quite so sure anymore that that was actually going to happen. He couldn't explain to himself why, but after the short conversation he and Frank had had in the hotel room, he believed just a little more that he genuinely wanted to work for the Ministry, and not for Avery.

They sat down at the big table with the others, and Ron cleared his throat to diffuse the uncomfortable tension in the room. "So..." he said, "You're here."

Burke raised an eyebrow. "I'm here."

"Does that mean you're on our side?" Christopher asked.

"It means I'm not on Avery's side," Burke corrected him, but that was good enough for the Aurors.

"Okay then," said Dean, rubbing his hands together. "Is there anything you can tell us? Anything you can point out?"

All of their eyes were now on the new member of the Avery-squad. Without saying a word, Frank looked around at the expectant faces, then got to his feet. Harry followed him with his eyes as he walked to the map of England hanging on the wall.

"Anyone have a quill?"

Harry handed him one, and Frank started making circles and x's on the map. The Aurors watched him wordlessly, not daring to interrupt or ask a question. One of the x's landed on Little Whinging, Surrey. One of the circles landed near Sheffield, one near Birmingham. A gasp got caught in Harry's throat when Burke placed another x on Godric's hollow.

Finally, Burke handed the quill back to Harry and sat down again. "Avery moves the hideouts," he told them. "They're never in the same spot for long, nor are all of them ever in the same place. There are few members that stay fixed together, like me and the three you met. Others are rotating from group to group. The only name they, including me, know of each other is Avery. He moves the locations randomly to random places at random times. The circles are all the hideouts I've been at."

Harry didn't even need to look at the others to know that the same dark cloud was floating over them, too. Not only had Avery made sure that James Patterson didn't have any information to give away, but he was doing the very same thing to his followers. No one knew anything. No one, except for him. That way, he had no security threats, and that was probably the reason why no one had come looking for the three missing members yet. Because they didn't know anything.

"So there is no way for us to find him," Ron concluded, sounding defeated.

"No," Burke agreed. "We won't. But he'll come to us."

The others turned to look at him, and Harry raised his eyebrows. "That's your plan? Sitting around and waiting until he shows himself?"

Frank shrugged, and something about the look on his face bothered Harry. "Seemed to have been working out for you so far," he said.

Harry gritted his teeth, but he didn't even get to say anything when Dean argued, "We haven't been sitting around doing nothing."

"Oh, really," Burke replied, his tone seeping with sarcasm and making Harry clench his jaw even tighter. "Either way, you have two Averys in your little cellar down there, and I'm here working with you, so whatever you've been doing worked."

The four Aurors exchanged glances, and Dean raised his eyebrows at Harry. Harry knew that they hadn't come as far as they would have liked to, and he knew how frustrated and stressed they all had been over the past few weeks, but Burke coming in acting like they hadn't been working tirelessly was unacceptable. He of all people should know how hard it was to find anything, especially in the weeks before Avery had shown movement by having James Patterson taken from his home.

"So, we do what?" Chris asked. "Play bait?"

Burke shrugged. "What you fail to understand is that Avery wants Potter to find him."

Harry felt the eyes on him again. Of course, Avery wanted Harry to find him. The message on the wall had made that clear. However, Avery wanted to have fun first. He wouldn't let Harry find him until he was ready. Not unless Harry found him first.

"Harry?" Ron took Harry's attention. "What do you say?"

It seemed like a simple question, but finding an answer to it was not quite as simple. Harry didn't know what to do. Should they listen to Frank and just do nothing, or should they keep doing what they had been doing, which was working day and night and not finding Avery either way? But Harry couldn't, under any circumstances, imagine not working at all. Even if they hadn't managed to find Avery, and even if he didn't care about the members they had taken from him, the Aurors had still managed to save at least two people from his claws - if not more with the charms on the houses. They had still done something good, and Harry wasn't willing to give that up yet.

"We'll keep working," he finally said and ignored Burke's sigh next to him. "But we'll take it easier. We won't stay until the middle of the night, and we'll keep our eyes on the people whose houses are already secured. As long as Avery doesn't make another move, we can try to figure out a pattern in the hideouts Burke pointed out. Maybe we can get ahead of him."

Burke shook his head a little, but he didn't say anything, and Harry was grateful for that. The others seemed content with Harry's decision, and to him, that was all that mattered.

After just two days, it turned out that taking it easy was not one of Harry's strong suits. Dean and Chris left every evening around five o'clock, the same time as Burke was brought back to his hotel. Ron stayed an hour longer, and every time he left, he told Harry to go home, too. On Monday and Tuesday, Harry was home even before Malfoy, so he got bored and sat down at his desk, looking for something - anything - to do. When Malfoy came home, he stalked right into Harry's office, wordlessly walked around Harry's table, took his hand, and pulled him downstairs into the living room. They sat together in silence for a while until one of them started to talk.

Harry loved that he now had more time to spend with his husband again, and Teddy would come over on Friday, which was why he couldn't explain to himself why he came home after midnight on Wednesday. Ron had left at six o'clock as every day nowadays, and even though he had reminded Harry to go home and get some rest, Harry couldn't make himself leave the briefing room. He hadn't even been to the toilet in four hours. He had thought he had found a pattern in the circles marking the hideouts and the x's for the locations to hold the hostages in. As it turned out, he had not. He hadn't found anything, and the longer he had stared at that map, the more blurred his vision had gotten until he had finally decided to go home.

When Harry closed the bedroom door behind himself, Malfoy rolled over in bed to look at him. He didn't seem to have been asleep. "Did you have a breakthrough?" he asked, his voice raspy and beautiful. Harry shook his head and stripped out of his clothes. "Then you'll start over tomorrow," Malfoy said without missing a beat.

Harry smiled as he crawled into bed and nodded, kissing Draco. His husband threaded his fingers into Harry's tousled hair and pulled him even closer until his tongue was so far back in Harry's mouth that he could have suffocated and loved every second of it. He put his hand on Malfoy's bare chest at first, then moved it up a little and wrapped his fingers around his neck. A little sound escaped Draco's mouth, and Harry swallowed it up.

They kissed for a while, just kissed, and when they were done, they lay down next to each other and didn't talk. Harry couldn't stop smiling, and after a few minutes, Malfoy turned his head to look at him without lifting it, squishing his face into the pillow. "What are you smiling about, idiot?" he asked.

Harry grinned even wider and felt tears prickling in his eyes. When he turned his head to look at Draco too, a tear rolled out of his eye and down the side of his head.

The slight amusement in Malfoy's face vanished, and he furrowed his brow. "What's wrong?" he asked and finally lifted his head from the pillow. He wiped the tear away with the knuckle of his index finger. "Potter, why are you crying?"

There was nothing Harry could have said to explain simply because he didn't even know himself. So he said, truthfully, "I don't know. It's just everything."

Malfoy frowed again and rolled to his side to get a better look at Harry. He put his warm hand on Harry's chest. "Everything?"

Harry nodded once, then shrugged. "It's... We can't find him. We have to work with Burke now, and he's bothering me so much, but it isn't even worth it because we can't find him. Teddy is coming in two days, and I feel like a failure because until three days ago, I had completely forgotten about that. There's the gala on Sunday that we have to go to, and it feels wrong to be having fun while we know that Avery is out there planning Merlin knows what. The others can just let it go and go home, and I envy them for that because I've just been sitting in the office for six hours, and I haven't figured anything out." Harry's voice cracked, but he continued. "And then I come home, stressed and frustrated, and you're here, and you make me so happy, and I am so in love with you that just having you with me makes all of this worth it."

There was a smile on Malfoy's lips now, and it made Harry smile, too. He took a deep breath and pulled himself together, suddenly feeling silly. "I'm sorry," he said, then chuckled.

Draco grinned. "Nothing to be sorry for," he argued. "Listen, Potter. You're not a failure. You've had so much on your mind lately, and you haven't had any time to do anything, so it's only natural things slip your mind. I understand that you feel guilty because Teddy is your godson, and he's important to you, but that is no reason to beat yourself up over it. You love him, and he loves you, and if he would have heard what you said, he would be mad with you, too."

Harry breathed out a smile, but he didn't get to say anything because Draco continued, "As for the gala... We don't have to go there."

"Yes, we do," Harry disagreed. "It's for the war. We have to be there, Malfoy."

"I know," his husband said. "I know. I'm just saying that if it's too much for you..."

"Thank you," Harry broke him off and kissed him. "Thank you so much, Draco," he whispered against his lips.


Even though Harry had been at the Ministry and behind his desk way less than in the weeks before, Friday came sooner than expected, and when he woke up that morning and looked back on the week, he felt like he hadn't done anything at all. Yesterday, Malfoy had come by the Ministry to pick up Harry at exactly six o'clock and had taken him to a nice restaurant for dinner. "I feel like if I don't drag you out of there, you'll never leave that map alone," he had said and smirked at Harry over a glass of wine.

But today was Friday, and today, Harry had promised himself not to think of work or Avery or Burke. The weekend belonged to Teddy; it always had, and it always would. The last time Harry had seen Teddy was too long ago. Usually, Andromeda brought him over every other weekend, but since Harry had been so overwhelmed with work, and Teddy had had the summer flu last week, they had had to reschedule everything. Teddy would have been over this weekend anyway, especially since the gala on Saturday was to honour the people who had lost their lives in the battle of Hogwarts - like Teddy's parents. Andromeda would be there as well.

When Harry entered the living room, Malfoy was already sitting in the big armchair, nose buried in today's Daily Prophet. There was a steaming cup of coffee on the glass table, and as Harry sat down, he took a sip. As soon as the liquid touched his tongue, he almost spat it back into the cup. "Merlin, Malfoy, what are you drinking?"

Draco lowered the newspaper just a little to glance at Harry over it. "Coffee," he replied, acting dumber than he was.

"I know that, wanker. What is in the coffee?"

Malfoy shrugged and hid his eyes behind the paper again. "Firewhiskey."

Harry raised both of his eyebrows. Malfoy was drinking at - Harry glanced at the grandfather clock - ten o'clock in the morning? Not knowing what to say, Harry shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. "Uhm..." he started awkwardly. "Why excatly-"

"Don't make a big deal out of this, Potter," Malfoy broke him off. "It's nothing out of the ordinary. I do this sometimes."

If he wasn't careful, Harry was sure his eyes would fall out of his head. "You... Sometimes?"

That made Draco finally fold the newspaper and put in in his lap. He looked exasperated with Harry when their eyes met. "Potter," he said solemly, "there's no need for you to look at me like that. I'm fine. If you're thinking about worrying for me... don't."

Harry all but rolled his eyes at his husband. "Why would I worry when you're so clearly doing fine?" But he got up still and left the living room without saying another word, and Malfoy let him go. On his way down to the kitchen, Harry truly contemplated letting it go, but as soon as his eyes fell on Kreacher, who was pulling freshly baked buns out of the oven, he decided he couldn't let it go.

"Kreacher?"

"Good morning, Master Potter," the house-elf croaked and bowed low. "What can Kreacher do for his Master?"

"You make Malfoy's coffee in the mornings, don't you?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Master, every morning."

"Has he ever asked you to put something else into the coffee? Like... Firewhiskey?" Just as Harry was speaking those words, he regretted what he was doing. What was he thinking - asking Kreacher about Malfoy behind his back? He should be upfront with him and tell him if something is bothering him. But there was no real reason to be bothered yet. If it really was as Malfoy had said, and he was only doing it sporadically, then there really wasn't any harm in it, was there?

But then Kreacher replied, "Yes, Master." Harry's eyes widened just a little, and he prepared for the worst - for Kreacher to tell him that Malfoy had lied and he was doing it every morning. "Master Malfoy asked Kreacher twice to put Firewhiskey into his coffee. Does Master Potter wish for Kreacher to stop?"

Harry quickly shoook his head. "No. No, do as he tells you." He would never forbid Draco anything, and if it were to get to the point that it would be a problem, Harry would speak to him directly, not through Kreacher. For a second, he wondered if he should ask Kreacher to tell him every time Draco requested alcohol, but then he realised that that, too, would be taking it too far. Harry had to let this go.

The elf bowed again. "As Master wishes," he said. "Breakfast is ready in a few minutes. Shall Kreacher wait for the guests to arrive before laying the table?"

"Yes, please."

After thanking Kreacher for his cup of tea and sighing, Harry made his way back upstairs, but the livingroom was empty. Malfoy's cup of coffe was on the glass table, still almost full and steaming. Harry looked at it for a moment. He guessed his comment had Malfoy lose his appetite. Harry felt bad about that, so he took the mug and went upstairs. On the third landing, he checked Malfoy's office next to Harry's, but as he found it empty as well, Harry smiled a little and opened the door to Draco's and Hermione's favorite room in the house: the little library next to the room that still had the Black family tree on the wall.

As expected, Draco was curled up in the armchair, and a fan was blowing cool wind into his face. He had a book in his lap, and when Harry came closer, he recognised it as Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry furrowed his brow in amusement, but wiped his expression when Malfoy looked up at him.

"You left your coffee," Harry said carefully.

Malfoy sneered. "Did you come here to chastise me some more?" he asked. "I don't want it, Potter. Throw it out. Have Kreacher bring me a glass of water; I'm sweating."

Harry stepped closer to him and put both mugs on the little table next to the armchair. Even with the fan on, it really was hot in this room because the carpet floor stored all the heat, and the light curtains could't fully keep out the sun.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," Harry sighed, and his words made Draco look up. "I'm not... I don't want to chastise you. I only want the best for you."

"You never used to," Draco replied, and he actually sounded sullen about this.

Harry suddenly wished he didn't have to worry that Andromeda and Teddy would come over any minute. He'd rather not have them show up while he was in the middle of an argument with his husband. To be fair, Harry wished he weren't in an argument with his husband at all, which was also why he wanted to resolve this as quickly as possible. He took another step closer to Malfoy, who was still looking up at Harry with his sharp grey eyes slightly narrowed. Their knees were almost touching now, so Harry stopped.

"You can drink whatever you like, but if you could at least tell me if you are..."

"I wasn't trying to hide it," Malfoy argued. "Do you want to keep tabs on me now? Should I tell you when I have a glass of juice, too? When I go to the toilet? Do you want to know how long I go?"

Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes because he knew very well that this would not get resolved if he were to show his annoyance. "I'm sorry, Malfoy." As he said that, he realised just how sorry he was. Draco didn't need Harry to raise him or to tell him what was good for him.

Malfoys eyes softened instantly, and he looked up at Harry with just the softest hint of a smile. "That's all I wanted to hear." As he got to his feet, their knees were still almost touching, and Harry felt the temperature in the room rise about fifteen degrees. "Let's go downstairs, prick, or I'll have to punish you for irritating me."

Harry grinned at him and leaned in the tiniest bit. "You're always irritated," he whispered, and just as Draco's expression changed from smug to offended to aroused, the doorbell rang.