Safe House, Chapter 5
Aug. 17th, 2005 02:58 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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bottom_dracoTitle: Safe House
Summary: Harry and Draco are put into a safe house for their own protection. Post HPB-major spoilers this chapter!
Rating: NC-17
Where's the rest?
skyehawke
my lj
Harry collapsed on top of Draco, panting and literally dizzy from the force of his second orgasm. He was drenched in sweat, as was Draco. It was only now that, in the quiet aftermath of their raucous coupling, Harry realized the headboard had been pounding loudly into the wall. Draco had come with something very like a victory cry, yelling “Yes!” repeatedly at the top of his voice.
“Well, I suppose the Ministry would be angry with us,” Harry joked, running his nose along Draco’s sweaty slick jaw line.
“Why?”
Long pale fingers trailed down Harry’s spine as if it were composed of piano keys.
“If anybody did happen to be snooping around out there, there is no way they didn’t hear us.”
Draco laughed and kissed Harry, letting his legs fall from Harry’s back to the mattress.
“I can’t move,” he said in a breathless voice.
Harry just grinned and snuggled closer, still inside the blond. He was reluctant to move because, while he was a post coital cuddler, Draco made it a point to immediately exit the bed and shower after each of their trysts. Harry wasn’t ready for this to end. Not only did he want to remain close to Draco, but now that he was settling down from the throes of passion, it dawned on him that he’d told Draco that he loved him.
He told Draco Malfoy, while fucking him into the mattress, that he loved him.
Harry buried his face in the crook of Draco’s neck. He had seriously fucked things up.
“Potter, you have to get off me. I need air. And it’s bloody hot as hell in here, for once,” Draco said.
“Oh, sorry,” Harry mumbled.
“Be careful pulling out,” Draco cautioned.
Harry gave a little nod and pulled out very slowly. Both men groaned.
Harry rolled onto his back, avoiding eye contact with Draco and expecting him to flee the bed as soon as he could. To his great surprised, Draco rolled towards him and threw his arm over Harry’s chest.
“Potter, I have to say, that was bloody brilliant! I would have never believed you could shag like that,” he drawled, sounding like a large, satisfied cat.
“Er, thanks,” Harry answered, now even more off his guard. He brushed his fingers over Draco’s hair, afraid the contact might make him bolt but unable to stop himself. Instead, Draco relaxed even more and curled his fingers into Harry’s other hand.
A huge grin spread across Harry’s face.
Draco tilted his head and smirked.
“Don’t look so proud of yourself. It’s alright with men, then?”
Harry shrugged nonchalantly.
“Yeah, s’alright. If that’s all you’ve got, ya know?” he teased.
Draco rolled his eyes.
“Please, Potter, don’t. Blasé does not suit you. Ugh, we should really take a shower.”
Draco stretched, dropped a kiss on Harry’s chest and stood from the bed. He headed towards the bathroom, where he stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder.
“Are you coming or what?”
“Do you think we’ll both fit?” Harry asked, once again shocked to the core.
“If you don’t mind being a little snug. I mean, I know we’ve finished shagging and all, but if you can stand to be near me for a bit longer…” Draco trailed off with a dramatic sigh.
Harry sauntered over to him, pulled the blond flush against him, and snogged him silly.
“You’re the one who always runs out right after, not me” Harry said.
“Shut up, Potter,” Draco replied, pulling Harry along by the hand.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was an extremely tight fit, but they managed.
“At least we’re both under the water,” Harry pointed out cheerfully, hands resting on Draco’s hips. Draco was leaning back against Harry, his head heavy on Harry’s shoulder, while Harry was pressed against the wall.
“Yes, but we’ve no room to actually move.”
“That’s alright. I don’t really want to move,” Harry answered. He kissed Draco’s cheek.
Draco smiled. “Prat.”
He flipped around, skin sliding past Harry’s in a way that made Harry’s smile broaden lecherously.
“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re going to get another hard-on,” Draco said.
Harry laughed.
“Not for another hour or so anyway,” he answered. He ran his hand over Draco’s slicked back hair, completely unable to stop petting the blond. Draco was playing with him, joking around like they were lovers. Harry liked it very much, but it frightened him. He still didn’t quite trust Draco and couldn’t help but think that this new openness would be followed by unprecedented distance.
“Animal,” Draco said. “I’ll bathe you then you can get out. I need room to maneuver.”
Harry relaxed against the shower wall, watching as Draco lathered up his hands.
“Maneuver? What on earth do you do in the shower, Malfoy?”
“Shut up and lift your arms,’ Draco answered.
Harry did as he was told, stretching his arms overhead and closing his eyes.
“Jesus,” Draco said with a gulp.
“What?” Harry asked.
“Nothing. Just, well. I never thought I’d live to hear myself say this, but the Weaslette is a lucky woman,” Draco answered, eyes sweeping Harry’s body from head to foot and back.
Harry was suddenly embarassed. Draco had only once ever acknowledged that he found Harry attractive. He’d never given him a blatant compliment before.
Then Draco’s hands were rubbing over his chest, smoothing soap over muscles, long fingers stopping to tickle ribs. He worked slowly over Harry’s abdomen, teasing past his cock, which though showing small signs of life, was still down for the count. Draco’s hands floated over Harry’s thighs as his lips and tongue caressed Harry’s neck. With a crooked smirk, he crouched down before Harry and went to work on his knees and shins.
“Lift your foot,” he ordered the heavy lidded, goofily grinning Harry. Harry did. Draco scraped a fingernail along the arch, causing Harry to jump and giggle. If there had been room for Draco to fall over, he would have.
“Stop being such an infant, Potter,” he chastised through a small, genuine smile. After washing and rinsing the second upraised foot, he bit Harry’s big toe.
“Alright, turn around,” he commanded. Harry turned as Draco stood.
Draco’s strong hands firmly massaged Harry’s back as he stood facing the wall, forehead pressing against his forearm. He was watching Draco out of the corner of his eye, and against his better judgement, hope was starting to grow that maybe, just maybe, things were really going to be different between them now. He would have never dreamed that Draco could be playful of all things.
Harry inhaled sharply as Draco’s hands suddenly swooped down his back and began kneading his ass. Now, Draco was watching him, lips slightly parted and lids as heavy as Harry’s own. The blond looked incredibly smug. His fingers kneaded each of Harry’s cheeks, thumbs occasionally sliding over Harry’s entrance. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and he gasped when Draco’s hands slid underneath and began to lather his balls.
“Does that feel good?” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear, one hand gently squeezing him while the thumb of the other pressed against his entry.
Harry could only nod and spread his legs a little wider. It was an awkward position, but he really had no complaints. It felt incredibly good, relaxing in a strange way. Draco carried on for a bit before once again sliding his hands up Harry’s back. They came to rest at the bend of his neck and shoulders, where Draco squeezed lightly before letting him go and slapping him pertly on the ass.
“Alright, Potter, you’re clean. Go get the bed warm. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Harry turned and pulled Draco to him. They kissed again before Harry stumbled out of the shower.
He climbed into bed, completely spent, and watched as Draco cleaned up. He tugged himself lightly, squeezing and stroking a few times, just for the pleasure of it. Draco was beautiful. He let himself daydream for a minute that this shack was their flat, Draco his lover. And Harry realized that he really was in love with Draco. In a bad way.
He dozed for a second and woke again when Draco climbed in bed next to him. He assumed his usual position, lying on his side with his back to Harry. Harry assumed his, arm around Draco’s waist and body spooned tightly behind.
“Draco? You know that I meant—“
“Shhhh, Potter. I know. Now go to sleep.”
Harry’s brows furrowed slightly, but he said nothing more. He was tired, but he didn’t want this to end. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning, alone, to find Draco cold and distant on the sofa, lost in a book, prepared to ignore Harry all day.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
When Harry woke the next morning, he was not alone. He and Draco had both shifted in the night, so instead of being spooned behind Draco, Harry was now splayed across his torso, legs tangled together. Draco was sleeping more deeply and peacefully than Harry had ever seen, his face totally relaxed and his mouth gaping. Small, almost imperceptible snores were coming from his chest and, ay other time, Harry would have been gleeful with the idea that he had something new to tease Draco about.
But finding Draco still in bed with him made him nervous. Harry propped up on one elbow and studied him. He was beautiful, no doubt. He looked very young as he lay sleeping, his dreams for once not troubling him.
So what was troubling Harry?
Harry sighed and lowered his chin to Draco’s chest, still gazing at his face. Draco was a man. Breaking up with Ginny would be one thing, but breaking up for Ginny for a man would be quite another. Breaking up with Ginny for Draco Malfoy would be quite another thing besides. Of course, there was always the possibility that Ginny was going to break up with him; after all, she hadn’t even written him lately.
That wasn’t the only problem that being with Draco would present though, and Harry knew it. Draco was not liked or trusted in the wizarding world. Several people would never forgive him, Ron Weasley very possibly among them. He would have problems at work. Despite the fact that the Ministry had been helping to protect Draco since the war ended, it was strictly out of a sense of duty. Many of the Aurors felt resentful that the Ministry was putting forth so much energy on someone they felt should be left to hang.
Harry rested his cheek flat against Draco’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Being with Draco would mean losing a lot; respect and admiration for sure, his family and friends possibly. And there was no guarantee that Draco even wanted to be with him. And even if he did, Harry felt like there was very little hope that they would last. They were both head strong, high tempered and hotly argumentative.
Harry sighed deeply. He didn’t care. If Draco wanted him, he could have him.
Harry sighed again. Did Draco want him? Until last night, Harry would have answered that question with a resounding no. Draco had made it abundantly clear that he was not interested in Harry as anything but a distraction, an enjoyable way to while away the hours in the shack.
Very carefully, Harry disentangled himself from Draco. He stood next to the bed and simply looked at the sleeping blond for a while before heading into the living room. It was just after dawn, so the electricity was back on. He turned on the small radiator to warm the house—he knew that Draco hated being cold. Quietly and with care, he started to cook breakfast.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when Draco snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle.
“Why so high strung, Potter?” Draco asked.
“You snuck up on me,” Harry replied.
“What? I took the famous Harry Potter, Auror extraordinaire, by surprise? I’ll have to start wearing a little bell around my neck to warn of my approach,” Draco purred, nuzzling into Harry’s back.
“I was thinking,” Harry said seriously.
“Oh dear.”
Harry pushed the skillet of sausages aside and turned to face Draco. Draco distracted him for a moment with a kiss, but Harry was determined.
“So, what happens when we get out of here?”
Draco sighed and his eyes narrowed.
“Why do you always have to try and ruin everything, Potter?”
“I need to know.”
“Why?”
Harry gave Draco a hard glare.
“Look, stop worrying. We’re never getting out here. It’s nearly Christmas for fuck’s sake.”
Draco took his arms from around Harry’s neck and tried to leave, but Harry grabbed him firmly by the forearms.
“I’m serious, Malfoy. I want to know. I need to know. Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”
Draco pinched his lips together and huffed through his nose. Harry stood firm.
“What was it you said to me, Potter? Last night? ‘Just take it. I’m giving it to you, so just fucking take it’? Very good, by the way. Very melodramatic. But appropos. Don’t ask me to explain, just enjoy. When we ever get out of here, we’ll worry about things then. As it looks now, we’re going to be spending Christmas and New Year together, just the two of us, so we may as well enjoy it.”
For once in his life, Harry went against everything his instincts were screaming at him. Instead of insisting on a real answer, instead of forcing Draco to tell him exactly what was on his mind, Harry relented.
“All right. Fine. No more questions.”
“Wonderful.” The purr was back in Draco’s voice again. And for now, that was all Harry wanted to know.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Over the next four days, Harry and Draco had sex on every surface, in every nook, corner and cranny, in every position and at every time of day in the shack. They went through their entire tube of lube and were now trying to think of a unsuspicious way to ask the Ministry to bring more. Draco swore that he could not sit down properly without being in pain, but it did not stop him from wanting to have sex again and again and again.
As much as Harry loved having sex, it was really the in between times that he loved the most. Draco had not dropped his playful behavior, but would very often lie his head in Harry’s lap, or hold Harry down and tickle him, or turn the hot water on in the kitchen sink while Harry was showering so that he got a blast of icy water to the face. They also talked in great detail about their last year at Hogwarts, before Dumbledore died, and how Draco came to appear at Order Headquarters with his throat slit.
Harry had always assumed that it was Snape that had helped Draco escape Voldemort’s clutches, but it had been his mother, Narcissa. As soon as Voldemort found out that Snape killed Dumbledore instead of Draco, and that Narcissa had made an Unbreakable Vow with their old Potions Master, he had gone beserk. He locked Draco and Narcissa in a chamber together and, instead of torturing Narcissa with the Cruciatus Curse until she went mad, they tortured Draco in a myriad of ways, forcing her to watch. Draco told Harry how they had held him down and systematically broken all of his limbs, re-grown the bones with Skele-gro, then broken them again. How they had fed him experimental potions. How they had at last left him under Cruciatus for so long that Narcissa Malfoy, in a fit of superhuman rage, had overcome three male Death Eaters, hexed them all with one of their own wands, and broken herself and Draco out of their cell. They had both almost made it outside the camp when someone, Draco still did not know who, started sending a rain of Slashing Spells towards him and Narcissa. His mother had fallen just as they made it past the wards and he was turning back to get her when she yelled for him to go on. Draco, remembering the address that Snape had given him as an emergency go to, was preparing to Apparate when a spell hit him across the neck. He told Harry that he thought if he hadn’t been about to Apparate, the Slashing Spell would have taken his head off.
Four days of pure bliss as far as Harry was concerned. It all came to a abrupt halt when, as he lay back in the corner of the couch, Draco comfortably tucked in the space between his legs writing out a list of things he wanted the Ministry to bring them for Christmas, there was an unexpected knock on the door.
The effect was galvanizing. Draco shot up from the couch in one lighting move and headed straight for the bedroom. Harry sat stunned for a moment before getting up and smoothing over his hair. The knocking started again.
“Coming!” Harry yelled. He poked his head in the bedroom door. “You okay?” he asked Draco.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Draco answered, sliding out of his pajamas and into his clothes. “That just scared me.”
Harry nodded and went to the window. He peaked out. Jude Demerest stood outside.
With a heavy sigh, Harry swung open the door.
“Mr. Demerest. What a surprise.”
The Head Auror pushed past Harry into the shack, rubbing his hands together and his eyes dancing like flames.
“Not half as surprising as the news I have for the two of you!”
Draco strolled into the room. He and Harry exchanged quick glances that gave away nothing. Draco, hands rubbing the backs of his arms, sat down on the sofa.
Jude Demerest sat opposite him, leaving no room for Harry on the small couch. He slapped his hands against his knees.
“Mr. Malfoy, I hope you’re ready to go home,” he said, voice full of glee.
A knot the size of a fist formed in Harry’s stomach. He looked at Draco’s face; it was hard and unreadable. He did not look at Harry, but leaned towards Dermerest.
“You caught them?” he asked. “The people that attacked me?”
“Keep your hair on, Mr. Malfoy. It’s quite a story.”
Draco fell back against the sofa. He never looked at Harry once.
“Last night, I was working late in my office when there was a major commotion outside in the cubicles. I could hear Shacklebolt yelling ‘Healer!’ and ‘Demerest’ back and forth as if he couldn’t quite make up his mind which he wanted first, me or a bloody Healer. Naturally, I went out to see what the fuss was all about.”
Demerest paused for effect, giving Draco a strange look.
“Well?” Harry said impatiently.
“This is not easy, Harry. Mr. Malfoy, it was your father. Passed out cold on the floor of the Auror offices.”
Draco gasped and blanched. “What?”
Demerest nodded. “Yes. He was in horrible shape. Had a crushed leg, some very bad cuts. Malnourished, the whole kit and caboodle.”
“Is he all right?” Draco cried. He was hugging his middle protectively. He still did not look at Harry, who had moved closer to the blond.
“He will be. We took him to St. Mungo’s at once. As soon as they were able to revive him, we got the whole story.”
“Turns out, he’s been a prisoner of war ever since Azkaban was liberated at the start of the war. Lord Voldemort was highly angry with him, as you know, and sent him to a camp near the Scottish border, where he was kept in a small, underground cell.”
Draco gulped. It sounded very much like where they had kept him and his mother.
“About two and a half months ago, some Death Eaters – guys we’d never even heard of Harry – that were still running the place started taking an interest in him again. Asking him all sorts of questions about Malfoy Manor and about you.”
Draco’s eyes grew wide.
“At first, your father told them nothing. They tortured him, of course, used new potions to make him finally talk. When they found out they could only get in if they had Malfoy blood, they told your father that they were taking him back home.”
“They reached the Manor early one evening and your father took them to an entryway at the back of the grounds, near the stables. He had no idea that you were living there – he thought they were after some of the powerful artifacts your father had hidden in the house. But your father saw you coming in from a ride. One of his captors told him that they were there to kill you and that your father was going to be the one to do it. To make amends for bringing about Voldemort’s demise.”
“Well, your father went a bit mad, apparently. They tried repeatedly to place him under the Imperious Curse, but he was able to resist, despite his weakened condition. At one point, you heard the noise and came forward to investigate, wand drawn. The men took your father and Disapparated back to the camp.”
Draco’s eyes were wide and glassy. He was chewing on his thumbnail. Harry’s hand was now resting on the back of his neck.
“I remember,” Draco muttered quietly.
“They tortured your father some more. Then, the stupid bloody Daily Prophet published that your mother was in St. Mungo’s. That’s when the captors got the idea.”
Draco looked blankly at Demerest, but Harry inhaled sharply.
“She couldn’t resist the Imperio because she’s mad,” he said. He tightened his grip on Draco’s neck, hoping to comfort him.
It didn’t work.
“What?” Draco roared. “They used my mother?”
Without warning, Draco bent double, his head hanging between his knees.
“Draco, are you okay?” Harry asked, rushing around the sofa to his side.
“Sick. I’m going to be sick,” he panted.
Harry rushed to the bathroom for a cloth and a small bin. He bent down next to Draco.
“Here. It’s okay. It’s okay,” Harry cooed.
Draco did not vomit, but it was a struggle. He spit several times into the bin and groaned, but nothing came up. At last, he leaned back on the couch.
“I remember,” he whispered. “I remember hearing her voice. She was singing me this song we used to sing together when I was small. About some muggle church, St. Clemens maybe? The whole time they were cutting open my arm and draining my blood, she was singing that song.”
Harry wanted to pull Draco to him but knew he could not. He felt sick himself.
Demerest began again in a quiet voice.
“They came back after the attack and told your father that it was thwarted. They kept him alive for some reason, until after they tried to attack Moody that night at your Manor. Just to fuck with him, I think, they came back and told him they were going to get your mother again and find you. They tortured him some more, asking him who he wanted to save more, his wife or his son, then they beat him. They left your father to die, locking him in his cell, and disappeared. He can’t remember how long he was out for, but he told us it took him several days to dig underneath the door and crawl out. As soon as he did, he Apparated to us.”
“So you’ve caught them, then? The men after Draco?” Harry asked. As much as he hated Lucius Malfoy, he couldn’t help but be deeply in awe of the man at the moment. And deeply thankful that he had done what he could to keep Draco alive.
“Not quite,” Demerest said carefully.
Draco sent him a hateful glance and Demerest continued quickly.
“But it won’t be long. We’ve got their names, descriptions. Harry, we’ll need you back at work at once. And Mr. Malfoy, your father is in custody at the moment, but your solicitor is in the process of working out a deal that will grant him immunity. Apparently, there are a lot more secret supporters out there, determined to clean up those that they feel deserted Voldemort. And of course, they’re after you, Harry.”
Harry gave a curt nod of understanding. He was afraid to speak, afraid that he would go on a tirade about how Lucius Malfoy shouldn’t be allowed out of prison under any circumstances. As much as he loved Draco, Harry would never be able to forgive his father.
“Can I see him?” Draco asked. “And is my mother being guarded?”
“Yes, you can see him, and yes, of course, your mother is under heavy guard. All you need to do is get your things together and come with me.”
Draco rose at once and made for the bedroom.
“Now, Harry, when we get back to –“
“Jude, you’ll have to tell me later. I need to speak with him,” Harry said.
Mr. Demerest watched Harry disappear into the bedroom and shut the door with a quizzical look.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry shut the door behind him. Draco had already begun packing, his wand flicking back and forth at speed.
“Draco, I’m so sorry,” Harry said. He tried to wrap his arms around Draco’s shoulders, only to be pushed harshly away.
“Stop it, Potter.”
Harry recoiled and took several steps away from Draco.
“Look, I know you need to leave, that you’ve got a lot on your mind right now, but. Well. When do you think I can see you again?”
Draco turned towards Harry in a swirl of wizard robes.
“Are you mad? Never, Potter. It’s over.”
The fist sized knot in the pit of Harry’s stomach began beating its way up to his throat.
“Why? Why does it have to be over?” Harry’s voice was weak, barely a whisper.
Draco directed some more of his clothes into his trunk.
“Because, we are heading back to the real world now and in the real world, this can never be.”
“Why?” Harry asked again.
Draco threw up his hands in exasperation.
“Because as soon as you see the Weaslette again, you’ll realize that this has all been a lie –“
“No I won’t! She’s got nothing to do with how I feel about you! And she’s already seeing that other guy!”
Draco slammed the lid of his trunk shut.
“Well she’s been in sort of the same situation we have, hasn’t she? Stuck, locked inside Hogwarts with only that man to distract her. Trust me, as soon as she sees you again, Harry Bloody Potter, her fucking hero, that other guy will cease to exist. Just as I will when you see her.”
“You’re wrong! I’m breaking up with her!”
Draco finally lost it. He stormed towards Harry.
“Don’t be daft! Think about it, Potter. What would happen if you and I were together? Hmm? Let me tell you. You would lose every single one of your friends. You would lose the only family you’ve ever known. Your co-workers would hate you, the wizarding world that worships at your feet would hate you. I’m a traitor, Potter, to both sides. The name Malfoy will be a curse on the lips of witches and wizards everywhere for a hundred years to come. And you want to see me again? I hardly think so.”
Harry stood and stared Draco in the eyes.
“Don’t you think I’ve already thought of all of that? You’re right, most of the Weasleys would never forgive me. But I think Ron would. And Fred and George. Hermione would. Some of the other Order members. I could quit my job, I don’t care about everyone else—“
“Potter, listen to what you’re saying! It’s madness!” Draco sat heavily on the bed and rubbed one hand over his face.
“Look,” he said in a softer voice, “I know that you believe that you love me. You need to love someone, you need to be loved, and so you think you love me right now because I’m all that you’ve had. But you don’t, Harry. You don’t. This, what we’ve had, what we’ve done, it isn’t real. You’ll understand that in time, probably a lot sooner than you think. So please, just go back to Ginny. Get married. Have a dozen brats. Lock up the rest of the Death Eaters. You’ll be happy that way. Even thinking of being with me is insanity.”
“I don’t care,” Harry whispered. “I want you. None of that other stuff.”
Draco stood and kissed Harry, very softly, on the lips.
“No, you don’t want me. And I don’t want you. So take my advice. You know I’m always right when it comes to you. Trust me for once, Potter. I promise you, by the time you’re opening gifts at the Burrow on Christmas night, you will have forgotten all about me. And that is how it should be.”
“Now I have to go. I have a lot to sort out with my family and what not. If you really want to do something for me, catch the bastards who stole my mother. Otherwise, do yourself a favor and forget that I ever existed as anything other than a horrible thorn in your side.”
“Draco, please. Let’s meet up in a week or so and talk about this.”
Draco stepped back from Harry and grabbed the handle of his trunk.
“No. There’s nothing to talk about. I have to go. Have a happy Christmas, Potter.”
Draco strolled into the living room without fanfare as Harry’s knees gave out and he sat down hard on the bed. Outside the door, he could hear Draco telling Demerest that Harry
would meet him later at the Ministry.
“Harry?” Demerest called. “You okay in there?”
“Um, yeah! I just need a, um, a bit to get my shit together,” Harry said truthfully. “It’s like Malfoy says, I’ll meet you back at the Ministry in a little while.”
“Okay. We’re going to go ahead, then. Don’t be too long! We’ve a lot of information to sort through and a lot of plans to coordinate.”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
Harry heard the door shut. Two muffled cracks followed and he knew that Demerest and Draco were gone. He sat in silence for a long time, listening to the wind creak around the empty shack.
Summary: Harry and Draco are put into a safe house for their own protection. Post HPB-major spoilers this chapter!
Rating: NC-17
Where's the rest?
skyehawke
my lj
Harry collapsed on top of Draco, panting and literally dizzy from the force of his second orgasm. He was drenched in sweat, as was Draco. It was only now that, in the quiet aftermath of their raucous coupling, Harry realized the headboard had been pounding loudly into the wall. Draco had come with something very like a victory cry, yelling “Yes!” repeatedly at the top of his voice.
“Well, I suppose the Ministry would be angry with us,” Harry joked, running his nose along Draco’s sweaty slick jaw line.
“Why?”
Long pale fingers trailed down Harry’s spine as if it were composed of piano keys.
“If anybody did happen to be snooping around out there, there is no way they didn’t hear us.”
Draco laughed and kissed Harry, letting his legs fall from Harry’s back to the mattress.
“I can’t move,” he said in a breathless voice.
Harry just grinned and snuggled closer, still inside the blond. He was reluctant to move because, while he was a post coital cuddler, Draco made it a point to immediately exit the bed and shower after each of their trysts. Harry wasn’t ready for this to end. Not only did he want to remain close to Draco, but now that he was settling down from the throes of passion, it dawned on him that he’d told Draco that he loved him.
He told Draco Malfoy, while fucking him into the mattress, that he loved him.
Harry buried his face in the crook of Draco’s neck. He had seriously fucked things up.
“Potter, you have to get off me. I need air. And it’s bloody hot as hell in here, for once,” Draco said.
“Oh, sorry,” Harry mumbled.
“Be careful pulling out,” Draco cautioned.
Harry gave a little nod and pulled out very slowly. Both men groaned.
Harry rolled onto his back, avoiding eye contact with Draco and expecting him to flee the bed as soon as he could. To his great surprised, Draco rolled towards him and threw his arm over Harry’s chest.
“Potter, I have to say, that was bloody brilliant! I would have never believed you could shag like that,” he drawled, sounding like a large, satisfied cat.
“Er, thanks,” Harry answered, now even more off his guard. He brushed his fingers over Draco’s hair, afraid the contact might make him bolt but unable to stop himself. Instead, Draco relaxed even more and curled his fingers into Harry’s other hand.
A huge grin spread across Harry’s face.
Draco tilted his head and smirked.
“Don’t look so proud of yourself. It’s alright with men, then?”
Harry shrugged nonchalantly.
“Yeah, s’alright. If that’s all you’ve got, ya know?” he teased.
Draco rolled his eyes.
“Please, Potter, don’t. Blasé does not suit you. Ugh, we should really take a shower.”
Draco stretched, dropped a kiss on Harry’s chest and stood from the bed. He headed towards the bathroom, where he stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder.
“Are you coming or what?”
“Do you think we’ll both fit?” Harry asked, once again shocked to the core.
“If you don’t mind being a little snug. I mean, I know we’ve finished shagging and all, but if you can stand to be near me for a bit longer…” Draco trailed off with a dramatic sigh.
Harry sauntered over to him, pulled the blond flush against him, and snogged him silly.
“You’re the one who always runs out right after, not me” Harry said.
“Shut up, Potter,” Draco replied, pulling Harry along by the hand.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was an extremely tight fit, but they managed.
“At least we’re both under the water,” Harry pointed out cheerfully, hands resting on Draco’s hips. Draco was leaning back against Harry, his head heavy on Harry’s shoulder, while Harry was pressed against the wall.
“Yes, but we’ve no room to actually move.”
“That’s alright. I don’t really want to move,” Harry answered. He kissed Draco’s cheek.
Draco smiled. “Prat.”
He flipped around, skin sliding past Harry’s in a way that made Harry’s smile broaden lecherously.
“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re going to get another hard-on,” Draco said.
Harry laughed.
“Not for another hour or so anyway,” he answered. He ran his hand over Draco’s slicked back hair, completely unable to stop petting the blond. Draco was playing with him, joking around like they were lovers. Harry liked it very much, but it frightened him. He still didn’t quite trust Draco and couldn’t help but think that this new openness would be followed by unprecedented distance.
“Animal,” Draco said. “I’ll bathe you then you can get out. I need room to maneuver.”
Harry relaxed against the shower wall, watching as Draco lathered up his hands.
“Maneuver? What on earth do you do in the shower, Malfoy?”
“Shut up and lift your arms,’ Draco answered.
Harry did as he was told, stretching his arms overhead and closing his eyes.
“Jesus,” Draco said with a gulp.
“What?” Harry asked.
“Nothing. Just, well. I never thought I’d live to hear myself say this, but the Weaslette is a lucky woman,” Draco answered, eyes sweeping Harry’s body from head to foot and back.
Harry was suddenly embarassed. Draco had only once ever acknowledged that he found Harry attractive. He’d never given him a blatant compliment before.
Then Draco’s hands were rubbing over his chest, smoothing soap over muscles, long fingers stopping to tickle ribs. He worked slowly over Harry’s abdomen, teasing past his cock, which though showing small signs of life, was still down for the count. Draco’s hands floated over Harry’s thighs as his lips and tongue caressed Harry’s neck. With a crooked smirk, he crouched down before Harry and went to work on his knees and shins.
“Lift your foot,” he ordered the heavy lidded, goofily grinning Harry. Harry did. Draco scraped a fingernail along the arch, causing Harry to jump and giggle. If there had been room for Draco to fall over, he would have.
“Stop being such an infant, Potter,” he chastised through a small, genuine smile. After washing and rinsing the second upraised foot, he bit Harry’s big toe.
“Alright, turn around,” he commanded. Harry turned as Draco stood.
Draco’s strong hands firmly massaged Harry’s back as he stood facing the wall, forehead pressing against his forearm. He was watching Draco out of the corner of his eye, and against his better judgement, hope was starting to grow that maybe, just maybe, things were really going to be different between them now. He would have never dreamed that Draco could be playful of all things.
Harry inhaled sharply as Draco’s hands suddenly swooped down his back and began kneading his ass. Now, Draco was watching him, lips slightly parted and lids as heavy as Harry’s own. The blond looked incredibly smug. His fingers kneaded each of Harry’s cheeks, thumbs occasionally sliding over Harry’s entrance. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and he gasped when Draco’s hands slid underneath and began to lather his balls.
“Does that feel good?” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear, one hand gently squeezing him while the thumb of the other pressed against his entry.
Harry could only nod and spread his legs a little wider. It was an awkward position, but he really had no complaints. It felt incredibly good, relaxing in a strange way. Draco carried on for a bit before once again sliding his hands up Harry’s back. They came to rest at the bend of his neck and shoulders, where Draco squeezed lightly before letting him go and slapping him pertly on the ass.
“Alright, Potter, you’re clean. Go get the bed warm. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Harry turned and pulled Draco to him. They kissed again before Harry stumbled out of the shower.
He climbed into bed, completely spent, and watched as Draco cleaned up. He tugged himself lightly, squeezing and stroking a few times, just for the pleasure of it. Draco was beautiful. He let himself daydream for a minute that this shack was their flat, Draco his lover. And Harry realized that he really was in love with Draco. In a bad way.
He dozed for a second and woke again when Draco climbed in bed next to him. He assumed his usual position, lying on his side with his back to Harry. Harry assumed his, arm around Draco’s waist and body spooned tightly behind.
“Draco? You know that I meant—“
“Shhhh, Potter. I know. Now go to sleep.”
Harry’s brows furrowed slightly, but he said nothing more. He was tired, but he didn’t want this to end. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning, alone, to find Draco cold and distant on the sofa, lost in a book, prepared to ignore Harry all day.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
When Harry woke the next morning, he was not alone. He and Draco had both shifted in the night, so instead of being spooned behind Draco, Harry was now splayed across his torso, legs tangled together. Draco was sleeping more deeply and peacefully than Harry had ever seen, his face totally relaxed and his mouth gaping. Small, almost imperceptible snores were coming from his chest and, ay other time, Harry would have been gleeful with the idea that he had something new to tease Draco about.
But finding Draco still in bed with him made him nervous. Harry propped up on one elbow and studied him. He was beautiful, no doubt. He looked very young as he lay sleeping, his dreams for once not troubling him.
So what was troubling Harry?
Harry sighed and lowered his chin to Draco’s chest, still gazing at his face. Draco was a man. Breaking up with Ginny would be one thing, but breaking up for Ginny for a man would be quite another. Breaking up with Ginny for Draco Malfoy would be quite another thing besides. Of course, there was always the possibility that Ginny was going to break up with him; after all, she hadn’t even written him lately.
That wasn’t the only problem that being with Draco would present though, and Harry knew it. Draco was not liked or trusted in the wizarding world. Several people would never forgive him, Ron Weasley very possibly among them. He would have problems at work. Despite the fact that the Ministry had been helping to protect Draco since the war ended, it was strictly out of a sense of duty. Many of the Aurors felt resentful that the Ministry was putting forth so much energy on someone they felt should be left to hang.
Harry rested his cheek flat against Draco’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Being with Draco would mean losing a lot; respect and admiration for sure, his family and friends possibly. And there was no guarantee that Draco even wanted to be with him. And even if he did, Harry felt like there was very little hope that they would last. They were both head strong, high tempered and hotly argumentative.
Harry sighed deeply. He didn’t care. If Draco wanted him, he could have him.
Harry sighed again. Did Draco want him? Until last night, Harry would have answered that question with a resounding no. Draco had made it abundantly clear that he was not interested in Harry as anything but a distraction, an enjoyable way to while away the hours in the shack.
Very carefully, Harry disentangled himself from Draco. He stood next to the bed and simply looked at the sleeping blond for a while before heading into the living room. It was just after dawn, so the electricity was back on. He turned on the small radiator to warm the house—he knew that Draco hated being cold. Quietly and with care, he started to cook breakfast.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when Draco snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle.
“Why so high strung, Potter?” Draco asked.
“You snuck up on me,” Harry replied.
“What? I took the famous Harry Potter, Auror extraordinaire, by surprise? I’ll have to start wearing a little bell around my neck to warn of my approach,” Draco purred, nuzzling into Harry’s back.
“I was thinking,” Harry said seriously.
“Oh dear.”
Harry pushed the skillet of sausages aside and turned to face Draco. Draco distracted him for a moment with a kiss, but Harry was determined.
“So, what happens when we get out of here?”
Draco sighed and his eyes narrowed.
“Why do you always have to try and ruin everything, Potter?”
“I need to know.”
“Why?”
Harry gave Draco a hard glare.
“Look, stop worrying. We’re never getting out here. It’s nearly Christmas for fuck’s sake.”
Draco took his arms from around Harry’s neck and tried to leave, but Harry grabbed him firmly by the forearms.
“I’m serious, Malfoy. I want to know. I need to know. Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”
Draco pinched his lips together and huffed through his nose. Harry stood firm.
“What was it you said to me, Potter? Last night? ‘Just take it. I’m giving it to you, so just fucking take it’? Very good, by the way. Very melodramatic. But appropos. Don’t ask me to explain, just enjoy. When we ever get out of here, we’ll worry about things then. As it looks now, we’re going to be spending Christmas and New Year together, just the two of us, so we may as well enjoy it.”
For once in his life, Harry went against everything his instincts were screaming at him. Instead of insisting on a real answer, instead of forcing Draco to tell him exactly what was on his mind, Harry relented.
“All right. Fine. No more questions.”
“Wonderful.” The purr was back in Draco’s voice again. And for now, that was all Harry wanted to know.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Over the next four days, Harry and Draco had sex on every surface, in every nook, corner and cranny, in every position and at every time of day in the shack. They went through their entire tube of lube and were now trying to think of a unsuspicious way to ask the Ministry to bring more. Draco swore that he could not sit down properly without being in pain, but it did not stop him from wanting to have sex again and again and again.
As much as Harry loved having sex, it was really the in between times that he loved the most. Draco had not dropped his playful behavior, but would very often lie his head in Harry’s lap, or hold Harry down and tickle him, or turn the hot water on in the kitchen sink while Harry was showering so that he got a blast of icy water to the face. They also talked in great detail about their last year at Hogwarts, before Dumbledore died, and how Draco came to appear at Order Headquarters with his throat slit.
Harry had always assumed that it was Snape that had helped Draco escape Voldemort’s clutches, but it had been his mother, Narcissa. As soon as Voldemort found out that Snape killed Dumbledore instead of Draco, and that Narcissa had made an Unbreakable Vow with their old Potions Master, he had gone beserk. He locked Draco and Narcissa in a chamber together and, instead of torturing Narcissa with the Cruciatus Curse until she went mad, they tortured Draco in a myriad of ways, forcing her to watch. Draco told Harry how they had held him down and systematically broken all of his limbs, re-grown the bones with Skele-gro, then broken them again. How they had fed him experimental potions. How they had at last left him under Cruciatus for so long that Narcissa Malfoy, in a fit of superhuman rage, had overcome three male Death Eaters, hexed them all with one of their own wands, and broken herself and Draco out of their cell. They had both almost made it outside the camp when someone, Draco still did not know who, started sending a rain of Slashing Spells towards him and Narcissa. His mother had fallen just as they made it past the wards and he was turning back to get her when she yelled for him to go on. Draco, remembering the address that Snape had given him as an emergency go to, was preparing to Apparate when a spell hit him across the neck. He told Harry that he thought if he hadn’t been about to Apparate, the Slashing Spell would have taken his head off.
Four days of pure bliss as far as Harry was concerned. It all came to a abrupt halt when, as he lay back in the corner of the couch, Draco comfortably tucked in the space between his legs writing out a list of things he wanted the Ministry to bring them for Christmas, there was an unexpected knock on the door.
The effect was galvanizing. Draco shot up from the couch in one lighting move and headed straight for the bedroom. Harry sat stunned for a moment before getting up and smoothing over his hair. The knocking started again.
“Coming!” Harry yelled. He poked his head in the bedroom door. “You okay?” he asked Draco.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Draco answered, sliding out of his pajamas and into his clothes. “That just scared me.”
Harry nodded and went to the window. He peaked out. Jude Demerest stood outside.
With a heavy sigh, Harry swung open the door.
“Mr. Demerest. What a surprise.”
The Head Auror pushed past Harry into the shack, rubbing his hands together and his eyes dancing like flames.
“Not half as surprising as the news I have for the two of you!”
Draco strolled into the room. He and Harry exchanged quick glances that gave away nothing. Draco, hands rubbing the backs of his arms, sat down on the sofa.
Jude Demerest sat opposite him, leaving no room for Harry on the small couch. He slapped his hands against his knees.
“Mr. Malfoy, I hope you’re ready to go home,” he said, voice full of glee.
A knot the size of a fist formed in Harry’s stomach. He looked at Draco’s face; it was hard and unreadable. He did not look at Harry, but leaned towards Dermerest.
“You caught them?” he asked. “The people that attacked me?”
“Keep your hair on, Mr. Malfoy. It’s quite a story.”
Draco fell back against the sofa. He never looked at Harry once.
“Last night, I was working late in my office when there was a major commotion outside in the cubicles. I could hear Shacklebolt yelling ‘Healer!’ and ‘Demerest’ back and forth as if he couldn’t quite make up his mind which he wanted first, me or a bloody Healer. Naturally, I went out to see what the fuss was all about.”
Demerest paused for effect, giving Draco a strange look.
“Well?” Harry said impatiently.
“This is not easy, Harry. Mr. Malfoy, it was your father. Passed out cold on the floor of the Auror offices.”
Draco gasped and blanched. “What?”
Demerest nodded. “Yes. He was in horrible shape. Had a crushed leg, some very bad cuts. Malnourished, the whole kit and caboodle.”
“Is he all right?” Draco cried. He was hugging his middle protectively. He still did not look at Harry, who had moved closer to the blond.
“He will be. We took him to St. Mungo’s at once. As soon as they were able to revive him, we got the whole story.”
“Turns out, he’s been a prisoner of war ever since Azkaban was liberated at the start of the war. Lord Voldemort was highly angry with him, as you know, and sent him to a camp near the Scottish border, where he was kept in a small, underground cell.”
Draco gulped. It sounded very much like where they had kept him and his mother.
“About two and a half months ago, some Death Eaters – guys we’d never even heard of Harry – that were still running the place started taking an interest in him again. Asking him all sorts of questions about Malfoy Manor and about you.”
Draco’s eyes grew wide.
“At first, your father told them nothing. They tortured him, of course, used new potions to make him finally talk. When they found out they could only get in if they had Malfoy blood, they told your father that they were taking him back home.”
“They reached the Manor early one evening and your father took them to an entryway at the back of the grounds, near the stables. He had no idea that you were living there – he thought they were after some of the powerful artifacts your father had hidden in the house. But your father saw you coming in from a ride. One of his captors told him that they were there to kill you and that your father was going to be the one to do it. To make amends for bringing about Voldemort’s demise.”
“Well, your father went a bit mad, apparently. They tried repeatedly to place him under the Imperious Curse, but he was able to resist, despite his weakened condition. At one point, you heard the noise and came forward to investigate, wand drawn. The men took your father and Disapparated back to the camp.”
Draco’s eyes were wide and glassy. He was chewing on his thumbnail. Harry’s hand was now resting on the back of his neck.
“I remember,” Draco muttered quietly.
“They tortured your father some more. Then, the stupid bloody Daily Prophet published that your mother was in St. Mungo’s. That’s when the captors got the idea.”
Draco looked blankly at Demerest, but Harry inhaled sharply.
“She couldn’t resist the Imperio because she’s mad,” he said. He tightened his grip on Draco’s neck, hoping to comfort him.
It didn’t work.
“What?” Draco roared. “They used my mother?”
Without warning, Draco bent double, his head hanging between his knees.
“Draco, are you okay?” Harry asked, rushing around the sofa to his side.
“Sick. I’m going to be sick,” he panted.
Harry rushed to the bathroom for a cloth and a small bin. He bent down next to Draco.
“Here. It’s okay. It’s okay,” Harry cooed.
Draco did not vomit, but it was a struggle. He spit several times into the bin and groaned, but nothing came up. At last, he leaned back on the couch.
“I remember,” he whispered. “I remember hearing her voice. She was singing me this song we used to sing together when I was small. About some muggle church, St. Clemens maybe? The whole time they were cutting open my arm and draining my blood, she was singing that song.”
Harry wanted to pull Draco to him but knew he could not. He felt sick himself.
Demerest began again in a quiet voice.
“They came back after the attack and told your father that it was thwarted. They kept him alive for some reason, until after they tried to attack Moody that night at your Manor. Just to fuck with him, I think, they came back and told him they were going to get your mother again and find you. They tortured him some more, asking him who he wanted to save more, his wife or his son, then they beat him. They left your father to die, locking him in his cell, and disappeared. He can’t remember how long he was out for, but he told us it took him several days to dig underneath the door and crawl out. As soon as he did, he Apparated to us.”
“So you’ve caught them, then? The men after Draco?” Harry asked. As much as he hated Lucius Malfoy, he couldn’t help but be deeply in awe of the man at the moment. And deeply thankful that he had done what he could to keep Draco alive.
“Not quite,” Demerest said carefully.
Draco sent him a hateful glance and Demerest continued quickly.
“But it won’t be long. We’ve got their names, descriptions. Harry, we’ll need you back at work at once. And Mr. Malfoy, your father is in custody at the moment, but your solicitor is in the process of working out a deal that will grant him immunity. Apparently, there are a lot more secret supporters out there, determined to clean up those that they feel deserted Voldemort. And of course, they’re after you, Harry.”
Harry gave a curt nod of understanding. He was afraid to speak, afraid that he would go on a tirade about how Lucius Malfoy shouldn’t be allowed out of prison under any circumstances. As much as he loved Draco, Harry would never be able to forgive his father.
“Can I see him?” Draco asked. “And is my mother being guarded?”
“Yes, you can see him, and yes, of course, your mother is under heavy guard. All you need to do is get your things together and come with me.”
Draco rose at once and made for the bedroom.
“Now, Harry, when we get back to –“
“Jude, you’ll have to tell me later. I need to speak with him,” Harry said.
Mr. Demerest watched Harry disappear into the bedroom and shut the door with a quizzical look.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry shut the door behind him. Draco had already begun packing, his wand flicking back and forth at speed.
“Draco, I’m so sorry,” Harry said. He tried to wrap his arms around Draco’s shoulders, only to be pushed harshly away.
“Stop it, Potter.”
Harry recoiled and took several steps away from Draco.
“Look, I know you need to leave, that you’ve got a lot on your mind right now, but. Well. When do you think I can see you again?”
Draco turned towards Harry in a swirl of wizard robes.
“Are you mad? Never, Potter. It’s over.”
The fist sized knot in the pit of Harry’s stomach began beating its way up to his throat.
“Why? Why does it have to be over?” Harry’s voice was weak, barely a whisper.
Draco directed some more of his clothes into his trunk.
“Because, we are heading back to the real world now and in the real world, this can never be.”
“Why?” Harry asked again.
Draco threw up his hands in exasperation.
“Because as soon as you see the Weaslette again, you’ll realize that this has all been a lie –“
“No I won’t! She’s got nothing to do with how I feel about you! And she’s already seeing that other guy!”
Draco slammed the lid of his trunk shut.
“Well she’s been in sort of the same situation we have, hasn’t she? Stuck, locked inside Hogwarts with only that man to distract her. Trust me, as soon as she sees you again, Harry Bloody Potter, her fucking hero, that other guy will cease to exist. Just as I will when you see her.”
“You’re wrong! I’m breaking up with her!”
Draco finally lost it. He stormed towards Harry.
“Don’t be daft! Think about it, Potter. What would happen if you and I were together? Hmm? Let me tell you. You would lose every single one of your friends. You would lose the only family you’ve ever known. Your co-workers would hate you, the wizarding world that worships at your feet would hate you. I’m a traitor, Potter, to both sides. The name Malfoy will be a curse on the lips of witches and wizards everywhere for a hundred years to come. And you want to see me again? I hardly think so.”
Harry stood and stared Draco in the eyes.
“Don’t you think I’ve already thought of all of that? You’re right, most of the Weasleys would never forgive me. But I think Ron would. And Fred and George. Hermione would. Some of the other Order members. I could quit my job, I don’t care about everyone else—“
“Potter, listen to what you’re saying! It’s madness!” Draco sat heavily on the bed and rubbed one hand over his face.
“Look,” he said in a softer voice, “I know that you believe that you love me. You need to love someone, you need to be loved, and so you think you love me right now because I’m all that you’ve had. But you don’t, Harry. You don’t. This, what we’ve had, what we’ve done, it isn’t real. You’ll understand that in time, probably a lot sooner than you think. So please, just go back to Ginny. Get married. Have a dozen brats. Lock up the rest of the Death Eaters. You’ll be happy that way. Even thinking of being with me is insanity.”
“I don’t care,” Harry whispered. “I want you. None of that other stuff.”
Draco stood and kissed Harry, very softly, on the lips.
“No, you don’t want me. And I don’t want you. So take my advice. You know I’m always right when it comes to you. Trust me for once, Potter. I promise you, by the time you’re opening gifts at the Burrow on Christmas night, you will have forgotten all about me. And that is how it should be.”
“Now I have to go. I have a lot to sort out with my family and what not. If you really want to do something for me, catch the bastards who stole my mother. Otherwise, do yourself a favor and forget that I ever existed as anything other than a horrible thorn in your side.”
“Draco, please. Let’s meet up in a week or so and talk about this.”
Draco stepped back from Harry and grabbed the handle of his trunk.
“No. There’s nothing to talk about. I have to go. Have a happy Christmas, Potter.”
Draco strolled into the living room without fanfare as Harry’s knees gave out and he sat down hard on the bed. Outside the door, he could hear Draco telling Demerest that Harry
would meet him later at the Ministry.
“Harry?” Demerest called. “You okay in there?”
“Um, yeah! I just need a, um, a bit to get my shit together,” Harry said truthfully. “It’s like Malfoy says, I’ll meet you back at the Ministry in a little while.”
“Okay. We’re going to go ahead, then. Don’t be too long! We’ve a lot of information to sort through and a lot of plans to coordinate.”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
Harry heard the door shut. Two muffled cracks followed and he knew that Demerest and Draco were gone. He sat in silence for a long time, listening to the wind creak around the empty shack.
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Date: 2005-08-17 07:36 pm (UTC)Why do I have this terrible feeling that the bad guys just got him?
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Date: 2005-08-17 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-17 10:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-18 06:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-18 12:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-18 12:48 pm (UTC)