Chapter 4
“Please, please just stay quiet. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Malfoy said before leaving Harry at the bottom of the stairway, a door slammed in his face. Harry smirked at the door. Quiet, he could do.
With a flick of his wrist, Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak, the silver fabric spooling out. Harry swooshed it around and covered himself fully. Harry cast a silencio spell on his trainers to stop his footsteps from making noise, then swiftly cracked the door open and slid back out into the backroom, trying to close it gently behind him. He made it just in time, right after he left the stairway Malfoy was walking back in, guiding Selwyn to a door that had been locked each time Harry had inspected it.
Stealthily, Harry snuck through the open doorway to the shop front. The recordable ears had captured Nibill handing Malfoy instructions. Harry peaked around the counter top until he saw a paper placed carefully by the till, the handwriting a loopy mess instead of Malfoy’s meticulous cursive. Harry read the script carefully, simultaneously pulling out his muggle cell phone to snap a photo. The Wizengamot wouldn't accept muggle pictures as evidence, solely because they didn’t understand the technology. Harry took the picture for his own records, and would submit a pensive memory if needed for evidence. The passcode was simple, “Care for a Fizzing Whizzbee?” Harry noticed next to the paper was a small gift box with the candy inside. Nibill wouldn’t have left it for Malfoy.
Harry snuck back to the doorway to the backroom, still open. He peeked through.
“Think about it, and remember, my door is always open to you for when you’re ready,” Selwyn was saying to Malfoy. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he wondered what the full exchange had been. Malfoy stood rigidly next to Selwyn, not responding. Selwyn squeezed Malfoy’s shoulder, then opened the final door to Nibill’s chambers.
Malfoy waited until Selwyn was gone to shiver. Harry watched him take a deep steadying breath, but Malfoy didn’t look any steadier for the effort.
Harry saw Malfoy realize the door to the stairway didn’t shut as Harry intended it to, and the moment Malfoy ran towards it Harry slipped into the back room and towards Nibill’s door. Harry watched carefully, but Malfoy made no effort to look around the room as if he suspected Harry was in it. He just rushed back out to the storefront to continue his work.
Harry held a hand out towards the door, carefully sensing the air around it before touching. There was something there, something malevolent. “Care for a Fizzing Whizzbee?” Harry whispered to the door. The negative energy dispersed. Harry grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. Nothing bad happened so Harry slid inside.
This was what Harry lived for. He crouched low so the invisibility cloak wouldn’t accidentally ride up and show his feet. He held his wand in hand, silently casting detection spells to make sure to avoid any magical objects or traps. He moved swiftly around each suspicious place, sure of each step. Harry left detachable ears behind, hidden under a side table or on the back side of a lamp. At the end of the entrance hall, a door was open to what could have been an office, although there were no personalised touches that implied anyone used it. Harry hid an ear under the desk and moved on. He passed over the lavatory, knowing he’d lose that fight about privacy and would put everything else at risk.
Harry reached the spacious drawing room, with chairs and sofas arranged to host a dozen guests. Nibll and Selwyn stood in front of a hearth, speaking familiarly, but not so loud their voices carried. They were aware others would soon join them and whatever they were covering was not meant for others’ ears.
Challenge accepted, Harry thought. He weaved through the room, pausing only to place ears in clever hiding spots, until he was an arm's length away from Nibill. Oh-so-carefully Harry hugged the wall behind the old man, who just now was saying, “the timeline makes sense, if you’re certain the goblins won’t interfere.”
Harry listened intently as he crouched further down so the cloak would have as much give as possible. Then reached a cloaked arm out to secure an ear between bricks in the fireplace at such an angle it was near impossible to see.
“Those creatures know better than to so much as touch the mines. We’ve made sure of it,” Harry peaked up to see Selwyn sneering. An ugly personality made the fine clothes and jewels gaudy instead of elegant. A sparkly broach reflected the firelight onto his fact, highlighting the cruel lit to his lips.
Harry retreated as carefully as he came, inching away from the duo who continued to talk in quiet tones. Soon he couldn’t hear the conversation clearly, but he trusted the ear would be able to.
Then more voices were coming from the hall. Harry glanced to the exit, knowing he had a limited window of time. Still, his eyes roamed the room. There was one more doorway, cracked open. He seized the moment and ran across the room in his half crouch, trusting the cloak and his magic to keep him hidden. The men behind him called out greetings to each other, none the wiser to Harry’s presence. Harry didn’t dare open the door wide enough to slip into this last room, but he did peer in to see a wall lamp almost within reach. So very carefully, Harry readjusted the invisibility cloak so it stretched from his hand to the floor, and he could reach up high while standing on his tiptoes. He placed the final ear then crouched down once more to readjust.
There were more voices now. Harry counted six guests in the room. Only six more, who could be here any moment. Harry wasted no time, he stayed on the edges of the room, avoiding the crowd as he slipped back out into the hallway. With no one to see, he ran, unworried about glimpses of shoes sneaking out, until he saw the final doorway to the shop’s backroom pull open. Harry crouched low, walking steadily forward with care. Then two people walked in together, a man and woman. They walked side-by-side, in a hallway not wide enough for that to be comfortable. Thinking fast, Harry crouched lower still. He all but laid on the floor and plastered himself against the wall as the two passed. Robes flapped above him, the gentle breeze of air in their wake a message of how close Harry had come to being caught.
Harry once again used a wordless spell, this time extending his silence charm broader along his body so he could push himself back to his feet without accidently making noise. He just made it to that last door in time for it to open again. Harry stood to the side as one more person walked in, in order to slip out through the closing door behind them.
In the shop’s backroom, Harry was just able to catch sight of Malfoy leaving once more to the shopfront. Harry took the moment to slip back through the door to the stairway, making sure it shut firmly behind him this time. He climbed the stairs, pulling off his cloak and carefully folding it tightly so he could pocket it again, then finally found himself in Malfoy’s room, where Malfoy thought he’d been all along.
Harry canceled all the silencio spells so he could hear himself laugh. This is what he lived for - the rush of infiltration and escape! His heart was pounding and adrenaline was running high. Harry grinned, he practically glowed with the thrill of victory. He wanted to crow, to celebrate, and if not that, he wanted to keep going, to see what else he could do and get away with.
Harry paced Malfoy’s room, his eyes taking in everything with fresh perspective. This was his first time left in the room alone. He cast a quick lumos, adding light beyond the small lamp Malfoy constantly left on, but that wasn’t bright enough to see much clearly. A fully illuminated room revealed why. It was a sad place, a dreary attic with only a bed, a small slab of a desk, and a compact wardrobe.
Harry started with the bed. Malfoy had said it had been transfigured and wouldn’t hold a different shape. Harry had to roll up his sleeves and master advanced transfigurations before he could transfer to working undercover with the aurors. It was one of many skills deemed essential for the specialized task. He easily cast diagnostic spells. His lips twitched downwards when his spells confirmed Malfoy’s statement. He couldn’t tell the original materials, but somehow Malfoy had stretched them far beyond recommended levels and the fact his rickety, cot-like bed had held this long was quite the achievement.
Next Harry glanced at the desk. It was what it seemed, a flat surface on legs, with a quill and ink pot and exactly three sheets of high quality paper. The paper had a protection charm on it. Harry pushed at that a bit with his magic, but it, too, was nothing more than it appeared. Harry reflected on how little Malfoy had these days, and how carefully he savored the luxuries he allowed himself. He thought of the letters Malfoy wrote to a distant aunt, his one hope of redemption and escape. Harry turned away from the desk.
Harry had meant to open Malfoy’s wardrobe and sift through Malfoy’s belongings, but he had gotten distracted trying to figure out how Malfoy had pulled off this one. You can transfigure like things, such as a piece of wood into a living tree or a separate hard surface. You can also transfigure a thing alike in spirit or concept, like a white piece of fluff in your pocket into a white dove, both of which would fly off if released from their confinement. This wardrobe was made combining three separate things, none of which were alike in concept, and Harry was certain two of which weren’t particularly solid at the beginning. He could see three distinct textures, connecting seamlessly. At first Harry assumed it couldn’t have been Draco, but the more he dug further the more familiar the magic felt to him. The more he examined the spellwork, the more it dawned on Harry that Malfoy likely just needed a wardrobe and had used whatever was left in the room.
A creak signaled the door opening at the bottom of the stairs. Harry pocketed his wand in an instant. Before Malfoy reached the tops of the steps, Harry lounged across the bed.
Malfoy paused as he entered the room, his eyes found Harry immediately. Malfoy’s stare lingered long enough that Harry smirked as he spread his legs a bit wider, leaning back a bit further. Harry’s heart still beat fast from exertion and he wanted to celebrate not just surviving, but excelling at his latest mission. And there was Malfoy, grown into a beautiful man, blushing slightly at Harry’s display of interest. Harry wanted him.
Malfoy didn’t take the offer. Instead he buried his face in his hands for several deep breaths. They didn’t steady him. He was still shaky as he stepped further into the room, stalling at the desk before sinking into the desk chair. He wouldn’t make eye contact with Harry. Silence stretched between them, long enough that Harry, with almost no shame, felt a bit indecent making a come on. He sat up instead. His movement drew Malfoy’s gaze once more, and in a rush Malfoy said, “I’m so, so sorry.”
Harry stared. Malfoy’s eyes were stormy with emotion. His grey irises like heavy rain clouds. If Malfoy wasn’t a mark Harry may have groaned with frustration. Harry tried to think back, what was it he said that left Malfoy so dejected he’d bypass sex to make way for grovelling? They’d hardly spoken at all, really. Probably, it was how he spoke. Harry had needed Malfoy to cave and to make that happen he let himself get angry. Harry had only come back to take advantage of this evening’s meeting and he had manufactured the tight deadline that pressured Malfoy to begin with. This time Harry suppressed a long-suffering sigh as he realized he would need to do damage control.
Harry reached his hand out to land on Malfoy’s knee. The room was small, it was no trouble. He let his thumb stroke Malfoy’s leg for a moment as he found comforting words that he was certain he authentically meant. “Look, it was awful of me to yell at you before. I don’t want you to apologize for anything you did today. I dropped in out of nowhere and just assumed you’d be able to drop everything and make time for me.” Harry wished he could say he had been selfish, or he was sorry. He probably was being selfish, but he also thought it wasn’t if it meant he was good at his job.
Harry definitely was not sorry.
Not even when Malfoy’s eyes drooped and he buried his face back in his hands.
Since Malfoy didn’t see, Harry allowed himself to roll his eyes. Otherwise he was still, patient, fucking supportive.
Finally, Malfoy sucked in a raspy breath and he righted himself. He tried on a grim smile, placing one hand above Harry’s hand on his knee. “You’ve been more than kind to me,” he said softly. Then he gently pushed Harry’s hand away. “I’m still at work. I should be downstairs now, but I thought, well, I had a little while before anyone could possibly come out and I didn’t want to leave you without a proper explanation. I’m sorry, I should have remembered before I invited you over so you wouldn’t have,” he paused there, his eyes skittering to look anywhere but at Harry. He started over, “I set inaccurate expectations and put you in a terrible position. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to have you stuck,” his arms waved around the room, “here, alone for the evening.”
Harry’s eyes followed Malfoy’s waving hands, then once again took in the room that was gestured at. He was still looking at the narrow space then went ahead and suggested, “Ah, so it’s going to be a late evening. Why don’t we just split the difference and you walk me out now?”
Malfoy barked out a laugh. “I don’t suppose you brought your old invisibility cloak with you?” he asked.
Years of training stopped Harry from narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Instead he asked off hand, “Why do you ask?”
Amusement drained out of Malfoy’s face. He was all seriousness. “If anyone sees you leaving Mr. Nibill will fire me.”
This, Harry understood. He had worked in probation at the start of his Aurer career and he knew the probation contracts for the Slytherian students’ who sided with Voldermort. Employment was mandatory. Harry glanced around the sad little room where Draco had lived for years. A registered address was mandatory, too. It wouldn’t matter how many years Draco had followed the rules, or how little time was left on the contract.
Honestly, Harry didn’t even want to push Malfoy to do anything as risky as that. Malfoy, with stress lines marring otherwise perfect skin. Delicate features, framed by sharp lines. A figure probably too slim, if Harry was being honest in his assessment of Draco’s nutrition levels, but still unerringly graceful. Harry’s heart had leapt that day in the coffee shop, where heat drove Malfoy to revealing casualness, and Harry’s admiration had startled Malfoy. Malfoy’s speeding pulse and an attractive blush revealed his own interest. Sex had been fast, and sex had been easy, and sex had opened all the doors Harry had sought to open. It had also given him time with Malfoy. Time had revealed the most of all. Malfoy’s entitlement had been squashed out so thoroughly, he hardly hoped for the chance to live the most basic, honest, hard pressed life somewhere no one knew or cared about him. Harry didn’t wish to rob him of that by forcing him into Azkaban.
Harry didn’t want to dwell on how other things could rob Malfoy of his lowly aspirations. Malfoy had learned to abandon hope. Every dream he shared with Harry sounded hollow. Lies Malfoy said to offer purpose as he struggled through near hostile conditions. However, Harry knew how quickly hopeless people saw in him a chance to rekindle belief in possibility. Probably it would be enough for any person to genuinely care for Malfoy to break through his tough shell. Malfoy’s boundaries were a brittle defense guarding what was left of his hope and self esteem. It would be easy to trample over them. Harry knew he would, if he had to, but contrary to what he might have expected as an angry teenager, hurting Draco Malfoy held no appeal.
Harry didn’t want to think about Malfoy. He wanted all his marks to be nasty people who deserve whatever was coming to them. Barring that, they were just tools to get what he needed.
Harry stood. He took the step needed to stand in front of Draco, still seated in the chair. Harry cupped Draco’s face in his hands, gently caressing him. “I’ll stay here as long as you need me to,” he said. Then he leaned down and kissed Malfoy, brushing his lips against Malfoy’s feather light. Malfoy gasped. Harry licked into his open mouth slowly, lingering on the taste of his lips, his tongue. Malfoy hesitated before opening his mouth further. Then their tongues were intertwined and Harry shifted his hands back into Malfoy’s hair, hands grabbing at Malfoy and angling his head to allow their kiss to deepen. They moved slow and gentle, until tingling spread from Harry’s lips down his body to his toes. He felt Draco shudder underneath him, from only the kissing. Harry gradually pulled back, making space to breathe. He rested his forehead against Malfoy’s. “How long do you think we have before you have to go back?”
They didn’t end up tracking the time. Harry seduced Malfoy one soft kiss at a time. He kissed each exposed piece of skin as he stripped Malfoy bare. He stayed gentle until Malfoy was laid out on the bed, wanton and ready for Harry to take what he wanted. Harry took joyously. It was a celebration, after all.