Harry sighed as he dropped his bags to the warm stone floor, then flicked his wand to have the groceries put themselves away while he sat on the low entryway bench to begin unlacing his boots. He’d do it magically, but they were embroidered with a rune sequence that kept that from being possible- you wouldn’t want an opponent to suddenly untie or summon your shoes during a duel.
He stepped further into the main room of his flat, relaxing happily as his feet sunk into the soft fur rug that covered most of the circular space. The flat was small and completely round, with a small hallway leading into the central room, which then led outwards to the surrounding ring. This section consisted of a bathroom, closet, and sleeping nook, and it had taken some getting used to when Harry first moved in.
After defeating Voldemort at 17, Harry had found that the wizarding world was much bigger than he had ever expected, with cultures long thought extinct still thriving in various parts of the world, like how Hogwarts had been so close to mediaeval Europe in aesthetics and technology. Hermione and Ron had split within a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and Ron had gotten back together with Lavender Brown. When they found out that Harry was looking to escape Britain and his fame, Lavender had offered a discounted rate at one of her flats in Töfraborg, the aptly named Magic City of the thriving magical Norse Vikings.
At first, Harry had been sceptical, but he’d grown to enjoy the way that the people of Töfraborg had blended modern ideals and ancient customs with magic, and had learned a lot about the various mythological figures as well. He’d been awed to learn that Loki “Laufeyson” was actually a muggle mistranslation of “LeFayson”, as in the son of the Dark Lady Morgana LeFay. The Jotunn were a family clan of ice-aligned elementals, and Morgana was adopted by them when she fled Britain to escape after her mother had died, and her father remarried.
With a groan, he slumped down in front of the fire, and thanked the numerous warming charms embedded in the floor and rug, stretching out to nestle into the thick fur. So lost in thought that he didn’t notice the soft pop of apparition outside his door, Harry closed his eyes and let himself relax.
Before he could even fully realise what was happening, his door flew open with a loud crash, banging against the wall and leaving him stunned for just enough time for a real stunner to hit him full on.
Harry woke again in flashes, eyes blurring as the aftereffects of being repeatedly stunned began to erase his memories of the times in between, until all he could remember of that time (which he would later find out was almost two weeks) was rage, searing cold, and a pain that he would swear reminded him of the cruciatus curse.
The first thing he saw when he woke for a final time was a face he’d hoped to never see again, pale and blond enough to look like a ghost.
“Malfoy.”
“Potter.”
“Where… Ugh.” Harry coughed, then winced at the pain it caused and clutching at his chest. “Where am I? What did you do?”
“I rescued your pathetic halfblood self from my father’s tender clutches. You are welcome, though I doubt you would have extended any thanks to begin with.” The blond man sneered at him, then lifted Harry’s shirt to inspect the bandages there.
Harry gave a weak protest, but he wasn’t strong enough to move away, so he settled for glaring. “Your father, huh? Still being a right prick, then. Why’d you save me, anyway? Got tired of ‘My father will hear about this’?” He said the last part in a mocking falsetto, earning a nasty coughing fit for his exertion.
“If you must know,” Malfoy responded, “I did not enjoy hearing your screams coming from the cellar while attempting to have dinner with my fiance and mother. We decided to stage you breaking out on your own, so I shall have to take my leave as soon as you are in a stable place. I will return tonight to further assist your healing, and when you are capable, I will portkey you back home. Agreeable?”
“Wait, wait. Hold up,” Harry said, “You broke me out because you were tired of listening to me scream in agony, which you only disliked because it ruined your date?”
“Well I wasn’t going to release you out of the goodness of my heart! Honestly.” Malfoy turned away and ignored any further attempts at conversation, busying himself looking through the potions stocked in the cupboards.
After a moment, he turned and handed Harry a pale lilac potion, then a thicker pearlescent white one. “Drink these in order. The first is for pain relief, and the second is the Natural Sleep Potion.”
Harry didn’t move, eyeing the potions suspiciously, then shrugged and downed them. To his surprise, he felt the pain he was feeling melt away, replaced by a deep-rooted exhaustion that quickly had him falling into a restful, healing sleep.
The next few days followed in a similar manner, with Harry feeling stronger and healthier every time he woke. He could feel gaps in his memories still, but with all the reading about mind healing Hermione had recited to them after the Battle of Hogwarts, he knew that could happen after a traumatic event. He slowly stopped suspecting Malfoy of anything more than being a right bastard, and began to relax in the other’s presence, even ignoring the other man being around while he slept.
Draco smirked at the man lying in the bed in his cellar, then fell into a deep bow as the other began to sit up. The man’s head turned towards him, uncanny in its movements, and gleaming red eyes locked onto Draco’s silver.
“My Lord. The vessel is nearing completion.”
“Yesss… the precious Man-Who-Conquered, dead to revive the Dark Lord Voldemort… what would people say?”
Harry would never realise that he’d forgotten one thing- to actually check if the horcrux was gone from his mind.