Title: The Elites
Summary: Several years after the fall of Voldemort, the Auror Department suspects the hint of a possible rise of dark wizards. To prevent another war, a new division of Aurors is developed to work scattered and undercover throughout the world. Being undetectable, and for their safety, they travel nomadically in pairs.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Deathly Hallows compliant, but doesn’t include the epilogue. (Although it could still happen, just not here.) Non-linear, slight angst, but still happy.
Word Count: 7,400
Author’s Notes: Even though I can’t say who she is I have to thank my beta for putting up with me. I doubted myself so many times and literally cried at one point. But she stuck by me and I love her so much for that. Also thanks to the mods for putting up with my 8000 extension requests, and of course Happy Holidays to sassy_cissa. This may not be exactly what you want, but I really hope you enjoy it!
Kingsley Shacklebolt rubbed his hands over his eyes as the daily memo incinerated itself into a small puff of violet smoke.
This was not the news he had wanted to hear this morning. His day had just started and the news he had read had completely ruined what could have been a potentially decent work day. Thought the message was cryptic, it made sense to Kingsley, and resolved to what felt like an open hand smack to his face.
All of the Elite Aurors had returned to the Ministry promptly at the news of the mission finally coming to an end three months prior. Without complaint, his crew had exhaustively been debriefed and placed accordingly back into their individual lives in as normal a fashion as possible. There were no questions. No complications. No one missing.
Except for two.
The two he trusted the most. The two he expected the highest accomplishments from.
They were not dead. No…he would’ve have known. The simple yet effective homing device implanted underneath the left wrists tracked the heart rate of all that had been deployed. So there was absolutely no way for him to not know. But what he didn’t know, couldn’t know, was where they were. He didn’t know their status or location.
Most importantly, he didn’t have a bloody clue as to why they were ignoring the Ministry.
And now time had run out for them. In three days time, by law, Shacklebolt was forced to administer a warrant for their arrest. Two of the greatest and most brilliant wizards he had the honor of knowing would now become fugitives in the Wizarding World. And Shacklebolt had no explanation as to why.
He stood from his desk and walked over to the window. His head was pounding and he rested it against the pane, hoping to the coolness would relieve some of the tension. A shot of firewhisky was what he truly wanted, but a quick Tempus reminded him that a quarter past nine in the morning was just a bit too early. He tried to push the pain of the pending mid –afternoon meeting where he would have to announce the status of the two Aurors, but the continuing question blared behind his eyelids as he closed with a sigh.
Where in the hell could they be?
"Are you asleep?"
Draco's back was facing Harry's as he paused and waited quietly for Harry to continue. When the silence stretched on, he asked the question hanging in the air himself.
"Are you alright?"
Pause. "I don't know."
Draco turned to face Harry in the dark. For a brief moment he tried to brace himself for what he believed he would hear. To counter that, he thought of their current location of South Dakota. Just a harmless Midwest state with unstable, yet very sacred lands. Way too much old magic for Draco's comfort. They had both decided without argument, that tomorrow morning was the perfect time to leave.
"Well, today was an interesting day. Once again, we found nothing, but at least we know now that the Lakota Reservations can drain a wizards' magic." Draco shivered slightly at the memory of being almost completely powerless and vulnerable.
"Yeah." Harry said quietly. Yeah..."
"I think I want to request more time for this mission."
Draco remained silent as he thought of the end of four nomadic years nearing and his pending return to the comfort and luxury Malfoy Manor. It was all slowly fading from his vision
"I...I'm...I don't want to go home."
Draco stared at Harry in the dark.
"Not just yet."
Draco closed his eyes, and simply nodded.
With a lazy flick of her wand Hermione watched as the books flew off the shelf and hovered in mid-air ready, to go where directed. She started to make a second flick when she felt a kick in her belly. Giggling at the feeling, her charm failed and the books fell to the ground around her feet.
“Fantastic.” She mumbled to herself. The books, which were once in exact order, were now a jumbled mess on the carpet. Hermione sighed as she slowly lowered herself onto her knees to reset the books back to their proper order. Looking back up at the shelves, she flicked her wand again to cast the dusting charm she had originally attempted before her daughter tapped her “hello”. She looked around at the floor to begin the individual task of placing each book back accordingly on their proper shelf. Ron snorted at her the first time she took an hour to do this, but she simply explained that with a system of organization, nothing is ever lost.
She paused at the thirteenth book as the simple gold script caught her eye. Placing her wand next to her legs on the floor, she picked up the book and ran her hand over the faded brown cover. She closed her eyes as the memories flowed through her mind before opening to the first page.
She smiled as she reopened her eyes to the picture on the first page. A chuckle escaped her lips as she saw her own younger self waving up at her surrounded by Harry and Ron. The picture was from their first year at Hogwarts, their last day of school before boarding the Hogwart’s Express back home. They were so young. So unaware. So…unstylish.
“Bloody hell, my hair!” Hermione gasped.
She continued to turn the pages, smiling and chuckling at the memories. Some were of just her and Ron, some of the Weasley family. Some were sporadic photos of former classmates who were still friends, as well as newer friends made since the fall of Voldemort. Mostly there were photos of the three of them. At school, Bill and Fleur’s wedding, Hermione and Ron’s wedding, Hannah and Neville’s wedding, Auror graduation; they were all pleasant moments. Moments of good times to be preserved and remembered forever in magical photography.
One photo, however, makes Hermione pause. It was one of the many graduation celebrations. This one at The Witch’s Brew, and it was group photo. There was herself, Ron and Harry, of course; Neville, Hannah Abbott-Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood and others from the Auror Department. Even Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up for the celebration. They were all sitting around four small tables that had been pushed together. The evidence of numerous shots of firewhisky and pints of ale were scattered throughout. The photo showed the group turning their heads towards the camera, then raising their glasses in a joyous salute. Everyone was smiling and laughing, having a grand time.
As Hermione watched the movement of the photo loop itself, she noticed that Harry was sitting at the end of the tables next to Draco Malfoy. She remembered that Draco had showed up alone that night. He too had been part of the graduating class, and although he was not close with the members of the party, he was their classmate and civility had become a natural occurrence between them all; the animosities of their Hogwarts days buried along with Voldemort. After a moment’s pause from the group Ron, of all people, had slapped a pint into Draco’s hand and dragged him over to the table, laughter and conversation resuming as though nothing had happened. It was, after all, a celebration.
Hermione continued to watch the photo closely, specifically at the faces of Harry and Draco. The two men saluted the camera with smiles matching everyone else’s. Then, with a swirl of sadness filling her eyes, Hermione noticed the smiles fall. The group continued to laugh and talk to the camera, but Harry’s head turned to look off into an unknown distance. Draco’s gazed followed Harry’s and Hermione noticed Harry’s head turn back to Draco. The two men stared at each other until the loop went back to it’s beginning, and the scene started all over again.
Hermione closed the photo album and felt the tears well up in her eyes as she thought about what Ron had told her in confidence just two weeks ago. No word had been heard from Harry and Draco.
“But the message was sent out two months ago!” She had exclaimed.
“I know, ‘Mione.”
“You don’t think they’re dead, do you?”
“No, no!” Ron said quickly, calming his wife down. “We would’ve known by now. That’s not the issue though.”
“Well what is the issue then? Why isn’t the Ministry searching for them?”
“It’s not that simple love. For Aurors like me, yes, that would be the procedure. But for the Elites…” Ron paused. “It…it just doesn’t work like that.”
“So, what? Now they’re considered rogue?” Hermione questioned, laced with sarcasm.
Ron paused, and looked down at the kitchen table.
“Ron…no. Please no.” She whispered.
“I’m not classified to say.”
“I’m not classified to say, Hermione.”
The tears fell and Hermione rocked back and forth on her knees as she thought of the words Ron had said. Harry had always wanted to be out of the spotlight, hence jumping so quickly at the opportunity for the ‘Elite’ position. Deep undercover meant that nobody would know him. Nobody could bother the boy who had lived.
“Oh Harry.” Hermione sobbed quietly as her wet eyes drifted back to photo album that had slid off her lap. The movement had turned the pages back to the photo on the very first page. Hermione’s tears continued to flow as she looked at the eleven year old boy with the glasses who would soon lead a life of running from the law.
“Harry please don’t do this.” She pleaded to the photo.
“Just come home.”
Harry simply smiled as he continued to wave silently at her.
Harry Potter being the Savior of the Wizarding World was the plan. Ridding the innocent of Voldemort was also the plan. Chances of random rogue wizards attempting to revive the strenuous plight of past Death Eaters (after Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World rid the innocent of Voldemort, of course.) however, never crossed the Ministry’s mind. It was Hermione who had opened the eyes of Ron and Harry after a seemingly random magical disturbance appeared on the Ministry’s radar from a remote Ukrainian Village five years following the fall of the Dark Lord. This occurring two months prior to traces of unknown Dark Magic hovering in the Yukon Territory. No one knew what to make of the circumstances, but suspicion was rising. Something was trying to brew and the Auror department now had a new goal; find the problem and purge it before it escalated into the Third War.
After the rare and odd chance of seeing a Muggle film, cops and gangsters no less, it was Neville Longbottom who suggested the idea of Aurors going undercover. “Not just one day of staking out and following someone” he had said, excitement radiating off of him. “Deep undercover. Stealth like, you know? Nobody and I mean nobody knows who you are. Not even fellow Aurors.”
Removing all traces and possibility for authoritative detection and send them out to the world. Limited wand use. No identity. Just you and your detective experience.
Kingsley had congratulated Neville for outstanding commitment and progression to the Auror Department.
Hermione had wrung her hands and silently prayed that Ron would not be enticed by the new division of ‘Elite Aurors’
Harry had been the first person to apply.
“But Harry,” Hermione had pleaded. “You’ve already been through so much. Why would you subject yourself to this? Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“Yes. I do.”
His clipped response caused her to falter with her primed speech. “Ok.” She started slowly, voice nervous. “But…the wizardi…WE, Harry…we already owe you so much for what you did. You stopped Voldemort. You don’t have anything else you need to prove. Your job is done.”
Harry smiled at Hermione, light shining in his emerald eyes.
“Obviously,” he said quietly. “It’s not. “
This is why Harry later found himself in Kingsley’s office for the ‘standard’ pre-emptive screening of Elite training. Somewhat like the military, Harry had shook Kingsley’s hand, and pledged the next four years of his life to peace, justice and absolutely no identity. A binding spell had been placed on the entire Department to prevent anyone - even a janitor - from accidentally slipping information on who was and was not taking consideration in joining the new core of Aurors that may or may not exist. Neville’s idea was just a rumor anyway. Even the Minister of Magic was led to believe that it was all talk amongst the Aurors. “Ha-ha,” some people quipped. “Very funny,” others jibed. “Well, it was Longbottom’s idea…”
Harry took a deep breath as he walked down the corridor form Kingsley’s office back towards the reception area. Eyes cast downward, a smile crept up on his face as he felt the beginning stages of giddiness tickle through his body. It’s not that he wanted to disappear necessarily; he just didn’t want anyone to know where he was. Just for a little while. Four years wasn’t THAT long. Going away, ‘working abroad’ as Harry told himself made perfect sense in his head. The anonymity he’d always craved while still providing a service to his fellow wizard and witch. To Harry, it was a win-win scenario that no one could dispute.
“Have a good one.” Harry said absently to the witch playing receptionist behind the desk.
“Mmhmm…” she said just as absently without looking up. Her Copy-Quill scratched along parchment memos to be sent out later while she examined her nails. When he first arrived, the swirling cobalt blue of her acrylic nails had captured Harry’s attention as the waves of color shifted from the tranquil cloudy blue to a stormy-soft gray. He had remained transfixed until her cough signaled her annoyance of his blatantly rude staring.
“You can head back to Mr. Shacklebolt’s office, Mr. Malfoy.” She muttered and waved a quick hand towards the direction Harry had just come from.
Harry looked up from the floor to see the familiar white-blonde head attached to the figure sitting elegantly to his right. A knowing smile on his lips as he moved to stand gracefully, walking towards Harry.
Enemies they were no longer, but one could hardly call them the best of friends. Malfoy had remained virtually invisible since witnessing the fall of Voldemort at the hand of Harry Potter’s elementary Disarming spell at Hogwarts. He had silently joined the Aurors as his own sign of redemption and began his private plight in returning respect to the Malfoy name. With Lucius rotting the remains of his life in Azkaban and Narcissa exiling herself to Martinique, Draco had found that to accomplish this alone was not the easiest of tasks. Even with his colorful accolades and high ranking in the Auror’s Potions Department.
Harry continued to look at Malfoy, stormy gray irises of the blonds man’s matching almost exactly to the scary fake nails of the receptionist. Malfoy nodded his head as he glided past Harry, shoulders lightly touching in his wake.
“A Golden Boy’s work is never done, eh Potter?”
A sly smile plays at Harry’s lips as he turned slightly to consider Draco as he continued his path down the hall.
“I guess not.”
“What the fuck is up her arse?”
“That waitress. Did you see the way she just…threw the check down?”
Harry looked up from his paper across to Draco’s glare of aggravation. The cracked leather of the aged booth squeaked as he turned his body back towards the dinner’s kitchen to glance at the waitress disappearing through the swinging door. Smirking to himself, he turned back to Draco and shrugged before returning his attention back to his article.
“Potter…she’s been a little bitch since we walked through the door.” Draco spat, emphasizing the ‘B’ in his reference to their server. “I do not quite comprehend what we did for her to decide to work so hard to NOT receive any gratuity.”
Harry folded his paper in half and placed it on the seat to his right as he examined his partner. Draco obviously needed his undivided attention for this tragedy.
“I don’t think she really cares.” He said as his gaze shifted slightly towards the snow drifting gently from the gray sky. Central Ohio was definitely not the most exciting of mid-western attractions. Immediately outside of the city, Columbus was flat and abundantly crammed with farms. What they farmed Harry wasn’t sure, but he suspected the ground was probably boring and brown year round, the only exception being when snowflakes decided to bless the earth and change the landscape up a bit.
“How can she not care?” Draco exasperated. “Did you see her? She’s probably got a gaggle of crying mouths to feed back at her double-wine. She needs all the tips she can get. We’re in the middle of arse-fuck nowhere, Ohio and it’s not like this is a jumping joint Potter.”
Harry rolled his eyes as he reached across the table to pick up the burning cigarette from Draco’s ashtray. He slowly dragged in his once a month craving for nicotine and leaned back into the booth as he closed his eyes and exhaled. “Trust me Malfoy, I really don’t think she cares. At least not today. And it’s double-WIDE.”
“Whatever.” Draco said with a wave of his hand. “I guarantee you Potter, we’re the only table she’s had all day, and we get treated like hippogriff shit? She should break out the knee pads if she wants to make this day worth it.” He leaned back in his seat to mirror Harry’s pose. “And why the hell wouldn’t she care?”
Harry opened his eyes to stare at Draco under a tired, hooded gaze. “Well for starters, I doubt she even wants to be here today. It’s Thanksgiving.”
Harry sat up to gawk at Draco.
“You do know what Thanksgiving is, right?”
“Of course I do.”
“What is it then?”
“Well, if you don’t know, why should I have to tell you?”
“Hmm?” Draco asked sweetly.
“Thanksgiving,” Harry started. “Is an American holiday. A celebration of, um natives and pilgrims. And turkey.”
“Yes. Everyone gets the day off from work and stays home with their families.”
“To eat turkey.”
“Yes. And that waitress would probably rather be home then here working on a holiday.”
“So then tell me something Potter.” Draco asked stretching his hand across the table to gently stroke Harry’s fingers.
“Why the hell did we order the chicken?”
Harry sighed contently in his sleep as Draco methodically ran his slim fingers through Harry’s dark hair. This hotel was not as bad as the last few had been. The laundry department apparently used fabric softener on the sheets here; a luxury when one lived a nomadic undercover lifestyle in the back areas of America. The orange hue of the freeway lamps gave an intimately harsh glow as it laid rectangular patterns across Harry’s shoulder and back. Draco glanced down to see a faint grin turned up on Harry’s lips as the man fell into a calm slumber. Draco grinned to himself slyly.
Oh how he had worked the boy who lived.
Draco’s arse clenched involuntarily as he thought of their evening. Harry had been in a mood all day. Six straight days of constant moving from one city to the next had made him edgy and Draco had deliberately picked fights with him all day; bitching and moaning about the latest failure to find any significant evidence of anything dark. Wherever they ended up, everything seemed in order, and the work they were producing deemed pointless.
Draco had wanted to be fucked. Well. And to receive the thorough fucking he craved, he knew pushing Harry’s buttons would break the dam blocking the weeks of sexual frustration.
Draco had used his perfectly timed snark to push Harry over his limit of tolerance. During their quiet dinner in the little diner downstairs no less. The clink of Harry’s spoon as he continuously stirred his cold coffee became the silent countdown to Draco’s attack.
He went straight for the jugular.
“So another unsuccessful day at the office.”
Harry mumbled something unintelligible, staring at his cup.
"Still no sign of anything even remotely dark."
Harry continued to stare, silent.
“So, remind me...it was you who defeated the Dark Lord, right?” Draco continued as he absently examined the innocuous abrasion on his left wrist. “Or was that some other boy wonder.”
Draco paused as Harry steamed from across the table, face turning a hinted shade of crimson as his eyes blazed a brilliant shade of emerald. This was it! His anger had reached the point of boiling, and the only thing left to do was to release it. Preferably multiple times inside of me, Draco thought to himself.
Harry grabbed the edge of the table with a white-knuckled grip as the other diner patrons glanced around at the light fixtures at what was thought to be a common summer time brown out. Draco felt Harry’s magic sizzle through him and raised his chin in mock defiance.
“I’m going for a walk.”
Draco blinked. “What?”
“Here.” Harry quietly replied as he stood, reaching into his wallet to pull out a twenty. Draco watched as he tossed in gently to the center of the table. “This should be enough for my half. I’m going for a walk.”
“Harry.” Draco pleaded lightly as he grasped for Harry’s wrist as he walked past the table. Harry froze at the intrusive touch and turned a cold gaze down to meet apologetic gray eyes.
“Let go Malfoy.”
The ice in Harry’s tone was new and made Draco shrink slightly as flashes of Lucius scorched his memory. His voice was distant and Harry removed his gaze from Draco’s while he waited for the skinny fingers to do the same. Harry steeled his gaze towards the exit as Draco removed slowly removed his hand.
“I’ll be back.” He said without looking at Draco.
“I’ll be back.”
Hours later, Draco continued to stare at the door of their hotel room, willing Harry to walk in. He hadn’t meant to upset Harry as much as he did. He only meant to rile him up a little. Work him up for a good fuck that they would both enjoy. He felt his eyes growing heavy as sleep began to overwhelm him. His last thoughts as he unwillingly drifted were of Harry’s back as he walked out of the restaurant and into the southern California night.
Draco’s instinct of a presence in the room is what rouses him sometime later. He slowly opened his eyes to find Harry, naked, and completely still as he watched Draco from the side of the bed. He blinked once and swallowed, throat dry from slumber, as he prepared to state his apology to the other man. His unspoken words were cut off as a single finger landed softly on his lips and he stared up at the shadow that leaned over him. Draco continued to blink, curious at Harry’s action.
“Don’t say it.” Harry said softly.
Draco grunted in protest as the finger remained light on his lips as Harry leaned closer to his face. “Please. Don’t say it.”
Harry hesitated as he listened for Draco to protest. When he was certain that Draco would remain silent, he pulled his finger away from Draco’s lips and down towards the sheet resting at Draco’s hips. The movement of the crisp linen was the only sound momentarily until the groan and squeak of the bed springs filled the silence as Harry climbed over Draco to hover over the blond man.
Harry stared intently into Draco’s shinning grey eyes, his lips ghosting over Draco’s and Draco suppressed a shudder as he felt Harry’s breath alight over his mouth. Draco’s instinct was to lean up and take Harry’s lips with his own. To express his regret for upsetting the other man. But he waited and remained still and quiet as Harry continued to look at him
“I don’t want to do this.” Harry started. “Bicker…fight. We can’t do this. It doesn’t help.”
Draco nodded slightly and continued to get lost in Harry’s eyes as he listened to Harry’s words.
“If you wanted me to fuck you,” Harry continued, rolling the heavy weight of his groin into Draco’s thigh. “All you had to do…was tell me to fuck you.”
Try as he might, Draco could not contain the moan that escaped his lips at Harry’s words and Harry finally planted his soft lips on Draco’s. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck to pull him in closer and he felt soft calloused hands smooth down his sides to firmly grip his arse.
“Spread your legs for me.” Harry said into Draco’s mouth.
Draco’s legs seem to spread on their own accord as he felt the hardness of Harry’s cock nestle underneath his balls. The two of them fell into a natural movement of subtle thrusting as Draco felt the hardness of Harry settle between his arse-cheeks. Draco’s cock twitched as his excitement grew for what he’d been waiting all fucking day for.
“Harry…” Draco breathed. “Come on.”
“Yesss…” Came the hiss from Harry’s lips.
Harry connected his wet mouth back down and pressed his hot tongue through the opening of Draco’s waiting mouth. The kiss was incredible. Harry thrust his tongue in and out of Draco’s mouth, fucking the hot crevice in preparation of what was to come.
Harry pulled up and looked down at Draco. His green eyes were heated and his hands were roaming possessively over Draco’s torso, up under his arms and around his shoulders, slowly working their way back down Draco’s body. He smiled down at Draco, knowing what the other man craved.
“How do you want it?”
Draco groaned as he arched his back tight into Harry’s touch. His body was tense, and his want was becoming unbearable. Days of craving and unsatisfying wanks in the shower had left his body yearning to feel Harry inside of him. He wanted to feels Harry’s hard cock slow, deep, hard, fast…any way he could get it; he wanted it now.
“Oh fuck. Potter…” Draco moaned. “Fuck...”
“I want to hear you.” Harry whispered above Draco.
Draco opened his eyes, wide and certain. “Hard.”
Harry smiled knowingly back down at Draco.
“Fuck me hard. So hard. Please...”
The last word escaped Draco’s mouth almost as a whine. Harry simple nodded, already pulling himself onto his knees and dragging Draco’s lower body on top of his strong thighs; Draco’s arse resting where it should on Harry’s groin. Harry had been ready. Using his efficiently mastered silent wandless skills, Draco felt the cool relief of Harry’s slick finger at his entrance. He teased for a second around the tight opening, and then smoothly pushed his way in with a sure forefinger. Harry pulled out and quickly returned with two. Draco wailed in approval.
“Just checking.” Harry chuckled lightly, showing his white teeth.
“Fucker.” Draco spat as Harry worked his fingers in and out of the tight passage, angling his way for that spot.
“I am. Fuckee.” Harry retorted, increasing the pace and pressure of his fingers. He watched in awe as Draco’s chest expanded and retracted with desperate breathes while Harry scissored his fingers in preparation. The blond man was sweaty and wanton; working his hips on Harry’s hand, fisting the sheets and unabashedly loosing his cool as his lithe body begged for Harry’s. Harry quickly moved his unoccupied hand from Draco’s hip to grasp his throbbing cock. He probably could’ve come just from watching Draco’s body.
Draco propped himself onto his elbows to looked directly into Harry’s eyes.
“Enough with the stand up…I’m ready…” Draco gasped. “Fuck me now.”
Harry narrowed his eyes as he slowly pulled his hot fingers from Draco’s body. His right hand grabbed a secure hold on the base of his cock as he placed his left hand above Draco’s shoulder. Draco provided more support and pulled them closer together as he raised his legs high onto Harry’s back and crossed his ankles. Harry’s harsh breath was hot on Draco’s wet lips as he gazed deep into Draco’s eyes and slowly pushed just the head of his cock inside of Draco.
“Fuuuuck!” Draco wailed in pleasure.
Harry grunted at the tight, hot sensation, and removed his right hand from his cock to brace himself securely over Draco’s shoulders. When he had a firm grip on the bed sheet beneath him, he opened his mouth and gave a wet slow lick over Draco’s upper and lower as he pushed himself completely into Draco’s waiting body. Both men released guttural moans from the pit of their stomachs at the tight and secure sensations they were providing each other.
“Oh my god…” Harry repeated, almost as a mantra. “Oh…my god.”
“Yeah…” Draco whispered, licking Harry’s hot mouth. “Move. My god Potter, fucking move.”
Harry nodded and lowered himself onto his elbows as he established an even and thorough thrust in and out of Draco’s hole. The pace was fast and brilliant; more then Draco had craved, and the blond man shut his eyes tight at the over sensation of Harry hitting his prostate gloriously over and over, harder and harder, again, again, again…
It was sweaty and stifling, and their bodies were pressed together perfectly like shared skin. Harry’s thighs spread a little wider as he changed the angel to give Draco the mind numbing fuck he had egged him on for. It was fucking. No question. They had crossed the step in their relationship and had made love to each other in the past. Tender, sweet, adoring, loving…but this was the fuck that men did. No words of endearment would be exchanged during this encounter. Not tonight.
Draco opened his eyes to watch Harry as he continued his assault and saw the close-eyed concentration of the man above of him. Listened to the deep grunts that got lost as they didn’t quite make it out of Harry’s mouth. Draco smiled to himself and clenched his arsehole when Harry pulled out and it almost, almost set Harry off.
“Oh…you…” Harry breathed with a smile, as he regained his composure. Harry pulled himself onto his haunches, bringing Draco’s arse up into the air with him and wrapped his arms around Draco’s skinny waste to continue pounding into his body. The changed angle, again, made Draco wail, and he stretched his arms above his head to find any form of purchase. His fingers twined into the pillow that had been squashed into the headboard and he unlocked his leg to allow his body to be taken over completely by Harry’s dominance.
Draco’s bobbing, angry red cock called out to him to be touched, and Harry wondered why Draco hadn’t touched himself yet. Harry removed his right hand from behind Draco’s back and went to wrap his fingers around the desperate length, but Draco stopped him with a cry.
“No!” Draco said, raising his head to look firmly at Harry.
Harry slightly slowed his pace to give Draco a chance to reason.
“Wanna…come…just by your cock.”
Harry had never had words turn him on so hard. His right hand returned behind Draco’s body and he intertwined his fingers for the optimum grip. Then, taking a deep breath, proceeding to fuck Draco Malfoy. Fast and Hard.
Harry couldn’t take his eyes away from Draco’s face. He wanted to watch him cum, but there was a glimmer in Draco’s wide stare that entranced Harry and kept him glued to Draco’s face. They were both breathing in time, together…as one. Harry was growing tired, but he refused to give up and fought the tingling in his abdomen to explode inside of Draco. However, with Draco, as irritating and insatiable as he was tonight, Harry didn’t know how much more he could take.
It was going to come. Harry just couldn’t hold back anymore. Draco had gotten him so worked up and turned on that he was shocked with himself that he had lasted to this point. His grunts overtook his breathing and he fought with all of his might to hold back. He slowed his thrusts to sharp and powerful, and closed his eyes for a brief second to gather himself from the pull of uncontrolled ecstasy. Draco’s rhythmic arse clenching was really not helping him.
Harry aimed his hips sharply to the right for relief once, twice, and heard the angelic cry of his own name from Draco’s wet mouth.
He thrust a third time and held as Draco gasped suddenly and thick white ropes shot from the slit of Draco’s wet cock up and across his chest. Harry groaned at the sight and felt his own release shoot out of his cock, deep and wet inside of Draco’s body.
Harry’s breathing was heavy and wet as he tried to calm himself down and shake the stars from his sight. He placed his hands around Draco’s side and slowed his breathing to a point of normality. He focused his gaze back up to Draco’s sated stormy eyes staring at him knowingly, and leaned his mouth down over Draco’s stomach to slowly clean Draco with his tongue. Draco gasped in surprised and Harry chuckled over a tight nipple as he swallowed the taste of his partner.
When he reached the crevice of Draco’s neck, Harry buried his face there and slowly pulled his spend cock out of Draco’s body to lay himself into a more comfortable position for his pending slumber.
Draco brought his hands up and around Harry’s shoulders to embrace him and they remained wrapped within each other, their calmed and sated breathing being the only movement of significance.
Draco smiled into Harry’s hair as he kissed the top of his head.
“Potter…you sly bastard.” He whispered softly. “Who knew you could read my mind?”
Draco hummed to himself as he licked his vanilla cone, efficiently catching the drips as they slowly tried to escape down the waffled pastry. Harry chuckled next to him as they slowly walked down the busy strip, his tongue battle with his own chocolate treat.
“What’s so funny?”
Harry smiled as he took another languid and suggestive lick of his ice cream.
“It’s kind of funny when you think about it.” Harry said, taking another lick.
“Hmm?” Draco asked, turning his hand to get to the other side before his fingers became sticky.
“Las Vegas. All of it.”
“What about it?”
Harry stopped and looked across the street as the Bellagio fountains began its repeated dazzling water show of the night. Draco stopped beside him to admire as well, his shoulder lightly resting against Harry’s.
“Well,” Harry began as he looked up in to the clear desert sky. “Who truly knows that this city, the whole city, is a Wizarding district?”
Draco nodded in agreement. “It’s pretty interesting.”
“Interesting?” Harry asked in slight surprise at Draco’s lack of enthusiasm.
Draco’s turned his head to Harry, ignoring his melting cone, as Harry’s face lit up in front of the backdrop of the city lights.
“Draco, the Muggle district is the shopping mall three blocks over.”
“So…this town is a Wizarding District. The whole fucking town.”
Draco’s grin grew wider as Harry returned the hidden sentiment. Harry sighed as he returned his gaze back to his cone.
“I believe in happy endings.”
“Of course. Why shouldn’t happiness come at the end of things?”
Draco chuckled as he faced Harry in bed. They were in New Orleans and even with the windows closed, the sounds of Mardi Gras could be heard in their hotel room, three blocks over from Bourbon Street. They were both naked. They were both sweaty. They were both completely sated. But Draco was beginning to think that one of them may have blown a fuse or two. He ran two fingers across Harry’s jaw, up and behind his ear, to stroke at the nape of his damp neck.
“It’s not so black and white Harry.”
Harry waited for Draco to continue. The blond man sighed as he considered just how to continue.
“Just because happy endings should happen, doesn’t mean they always could.”
“True.” Harry said thoughtfully as he mimicked Draco’s finger pattern on his neck. “But don’t you think it’s worth fighting for the “should” in your endings?”
Eyes fixed on Harry’s, Draco nodded. “I do.”
“So, regardless of the good or bad outcome, don’t you believe happiness comes at the end because you fought for it?”
They continued to stare at each other as Harry waited for Draco’s response. Their breathing was shared as time seemed to stand still and Draco allowed Harry’s words to sink in and fully penetrate his mind and heart.
Harry suddenly found himself on his back as Draco rolled them over and kissed him with all the power he could muster, despite their most recent bout of love making. Harry’s lips parted for Draco and a guttural groan rumbled deep in his chest as Draco’s tongue plundered and fucked its way into the hot, wet cavern. Draco’s hands roamed up and down Harry’s toned arms and finally landed in the dark nest of hair as he pulled away from the kiss with a slight moan.
Draco continued to kiss around Harry’s mouth, his chin, his nose, his eyes, before stopping to look deeply into the green eyes that were filled with passion and want.
“I would.” Draco whispered.
“I would. I would fight for you Harry Potter.”
“Fuck Malfoy, I said I need to take a break!”
Draco rolled his eyes as Harry took a seat on a nearby rock. Despite possibly being the most powerful wizard in the world and almost single-handedly offing the previous holder of the title with a simple Expelliarmus charm, Harry Potter failed gloriously at the art of wandless magic. Draco sighed as he looked off to his left. The marshmallow softness of the cumulus clouds hung like valances around the tips of the mountain terrain. The Rockies, Draco thought to himself, were absolutely breathtaking. It was like he could stretch his arm out and pluck the clouds out of the sky. With the right combination of dark magic, Draco thought, it might be possible. Draco steeled his stare to turn back to his partner who was now resting with his head in his hands and tight tension in his shoulders.
“Are you a wizard Potter?”
Draco turned his body towards Harry crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you a wizard?” he repeated slowly, as if speaking to an undisciplined four year old.
“The fuck are you on about Malfoy?”
“You began your supposed ascent to greatness when you mastered the Patronus Charm at thirteen, so my apologies that I am so baffled at how you fail at this.”
Harry gaped. “At wandless magic?”
“No. At being a wizard.”
Harry continued to stare at Malfoy. He was honestly confused and slowly being angered at where this sudden hostility was coming from. So he sucked at wandless magic. That didn’t make him any less of a wizard. Even the greatest wizards of all time never conquered wandless magic. Hermione’s random lessons in Wizarding history made sure he knew that. The fact that Draco had accomplished the skill well during Elite training and well before Harry didn’t prove anything. He had defeated Voldemort, hadn’t he?
“Later.” Draco responded coolly. “Right now, I’d like you to stop and remember that you don't have to try to be a wizard. You are one.”
Harry continued to give Draco a steady glare. Eyes unwavering, his mouth gaped to respond, but no words came out. Draco walked over to where Harry sat on the boulder and squatted to look up into Harry's green eyes.
"What I mean is," Draco began softly, changing tone. "this is who you are."
"What difference does it make who I am if I can't do the magic?" Harry sighed, sounding defeated.
"None." Draco stated matter-of-factly. "But the power and ability to do the magic is in you. Because of one simple thing."
"And what's that?"
"Because you're Harry Potter.
"Yeah, don't remind me."
"No, no." Draco said with a shake of his head, rising up to full height to look down at Harry again. "Don't get me mixed up with your adoring public. I never said you were the 'Golden Egg' or whatever ridiculous nametag they give you." Draco gracefully put out his right hand. "I just said you were Harry Potter."
"A wizard." Harry said with a small smile, as he accepted his hand.
"A not-so-shabby wizard if the rumors are true." Draco said with a sly smirk. "Apparently you've also killed some dark lord. At least that's what they say."
Harry gave Draco a true, beaming smile. Never really known for his soothing words of encouragement, Draco seemed to have provided Harry the boost that was needed. Harry stretched slightly, feeling the knots pop in his shoulder as he took his place on the opposite side of the clearing to prepare to once again tackle the art of wandless magic.
As he turned to look back at Draco, he paused. "You know what?"
"What?" Draco asked, eyebrows raised.
"One day I'll thank you for this. But not now."
"What's wrong with thanking me now?"
"Because." Harry replied with a grin. "You may have gotten me up again, but for the most part, you pretty much fail at the pep talks, Malfoy."
"Fuck you, Potter."
Harry chuckled. "Later."
“No word from them?”
“No word Mr. Shacklebolt.”
The motel room was non-smoking, but he continued to drag lazily at the fag resting between his lips, and watched the man next to him sleep. Two o’clock in the morning and the highway traffic had finally dulled to a faint rumble. The only poignant sound in the room was the relaxed breath of sleep coming from the bed.
Draco smiled faintly as he watched Harry turn over for a more comfortable position on his left side. He watched the intricate pattern of orange light from the street lamps fall on Harry’s back as he sighed to himself, thinking of today’s message from the Ministry.
Time was no longer on their side. It was gone. The mission was officially over. No more requests of extended time, because there was no longer a department of Elite Aurors.
Six years and now they had to head back. Ordered to do so. Three more days without word and the consequences would be…severe, to say the least. They would become the next to be hunted. Wanted by the Ministry as rogue wizards themselves. Draco chuckled to himself as that last thought rolled sourly through his head. Harry Potter: destroys the most powerful and dangerous wizard of all time, then vows and risk his life to continue said service from would be dark lords, to now be considered a fugitive. By the same people who adored and worshiped him no less. It was hypocrisy at it’s finest.
Draco dropped the butte of the smoke into the tumbler turned ashtray and rose to make his way back to the bed as the hiss of the embers died in the shallow pool of water. He crawled his way over to Harry and wrapped his arm around his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on Harry’s ear as he thought of the simple words Harry had said over breakfast earlier that day.
” You know, I don’t care if we succeed or not.”
“No?” Draco replied as he looked up from his English muffin, which was hardly English if he had anything to say about it.
“Nope.” Harry smiled brightly, causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle. “Not at all.”
Draco smiled to himself. The words were so elementary, but they spoke volumes. He tightened his hold around Harry’s side and whispered softly into his ear.
“I don’t care either.”