Fic: Missing Persons

[alisanne]

Title: Missing Persons
Author/Artist: alisanne
Recipient: felaine
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 14,900-ish
Pairing(s): Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley/Pansy Parkinson
Summary: When people start mysteriously disappearing, Harry and Draco join forces to discover what’s going on, and in the process, discover new things about themselves.
Warning(s): Mild violence, rimming (not at the same time *g*).
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Written for the 2014 HD Glompfest.
Thank you to my fabulous beta-readers, sevfan and emynn, and to the mods for their patience and understanding when this story grew beyond where I thought it would.
Thanks also to the wonderful felaine, who is a special light in fandom. It wouldn’t be nearly as happy a place without you, lovely! ♥


~

Missing Persons

~

“There’s been another disappearance.”

Looking up from his paperwork, Harry frowned at Ron, who was standing at his door. “When?”

“Last night.” Walking in, Ron slid the folder across Harry’s desk towards him. “I got the report this morning.”

Harry sighed as he flipped through the parchments. “Do you think it’s related to the ones we’ve been investigating?”

Ron shrugged. “No idea. Weird circumstances, though. This time it’s an elderly grandmother from Chiswick. Not rich or famous that I can tell. She just didn’t come home. Grandkids got worried when she wasn’t back in time for supper, and they spent the evening looking for her. All they found were her clothes, which were intact. The Auror team who’s investigating finally called us in this morning.”

Harry groaned as he scanned the details. “Last seen out for a walk with her cat? What the hell? Who would want to kidnap her?” He looked up. “Has there been a ransom request?”

“No, nothing yet.” Ron exhaled, collapsing into the chair in front of Harry’s desk. “But the family’s screaming bloody murder, of course, demanding that the DMLE find granny.”

Harry nodded. “Understandable.” He pursed his lips. “Did you ever think spearheading a missing persons division in the Aurors would be this busy?”

Ron leaned forward. “Merlin, no. Remember the way Robards looked at us the first time we suggested it?”

Harry smiled faintly. “Like we were trying to get out of real work? Yeah, I remember.”

Ron snorted. “And now we’re the busiest Auror team by far. Who knew there would be this many abductions in just a few weeks?”

“Not me.” Harry closed the folder. “Right, I guess we should go and interview the family, then.”

Ron nodded. “I’ve the address right here.”

“Great.”

The grandmother, an elderly witch by name of Mafalda Milton, lived in a modest home in Chiswick, and after a couple of hours of questioning her family, neighbours, and friends, Harry and Ron were no closer to finding out who and why anyone would have taken her.

“So,” said Ron as they walked away from the house. “In sum: this is a ninety-year-old woman, who was utterly harmless, had no vices, never said a cross word to anyone in her life, and had no enemies. She went for a walk and never came back. She wasn’t a Death Eater; in fact, she was so nondescript that no one bothered with her during the war, on either side.”

“And despite all that, someone’s decided to kidnap her.” Harry, frustrated, ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s senseless.” Ron sighed.

Harry nodded. “It’s as senseless as the last few abductions have been.”

Ron nodded. “I just hope to Merlin that we don’t find all these people in a ditch someplace in a few months time.”

Face sombre, Harry nodded his agreement. They, more than most, knew the statistics. The longer they went without finding an abductee, the less likely they were to be found alive. Although, since most kidnapping crimes had some sort of discernible motive, the ones they had been investigating recently were all curious in that the victims had no connection to each other, and no one seemed interested in collecting any sort of ransom.

“Can you write this one up?” Ron asked once they were back at the Ministry.

Harry nodded. “I suppose.” He raised an eyebrow. “Hot date tonight?”

Ron’s face went red. “Maybe.”

“That’s the third one this week, mate.” Harry grinned. “When do the rest of us get to meet the mystery woman?”

“Ugh, not you, too!” Ron groaned. “Hermione’s been after me to tell her all about her.” He made a face. “Is it weird that I find it creepy how interested she is in my love life? I mean, we used to date for Merlin’s sake!”

Harry bit his tongue, knowing not to mention the fact that Hermione’s interest stemmed only from wanting to ensure that Ron was happy and wouldn’t want to try to get back together with her anytime soon. He coughed. “Yeah, I think she remembers.”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “Have the two of you been talking about me?”

“Nope,” Harry lied. “Now run along to your mystery woman before I change my mind and make you stay and write up this report. It is your turn, after all.”

Ron didn’t hesitate in moving towards the door. “You’re a good man. See you tomorrow!”

Harry shook his head, tossing the folder onto his desk before walking around his desk to get started on adding Mafalda’s information to the case board he kept up behind his desk. On it was every bit of information they had collected over the weeks about the seemingly random kidnappings. While Ron thought he was mad for bothering, Harry, who had gone to a Muggle police course on kidnapping, persisted in doing it, hopeful that a pattern would show up eventually.

By the time he finished with the board and the report, the DMLE was empty, the lamps turned low. Harry strolled towards the Atrium deep in thought, turning the facts of the case over in his mind. A petty criminal from Knockturn, a housewife from Chelsea, a retired herbologist from Swansea, and now a grandmother from Chiswick. He sighed. What could possibly connect them? Was there someone out there just committing random kidnappings? Or maybe we’re reading too much into it, Harry thought. Maybe they’re unconnected.

But there was something about the whole thing that was niggling in the back of his mind. Some instinct that said the crimes were all connected somehow.

After Flooing home, Harry ate a light supper and, opening a bottle of ale, sat back on his sofa and sipped, closing his eyes as he pondered the case details. In his mind’s eye he saw the herbologist’s country cottage, decorated with pictures of his Crup, the housewife whose grown children had had to divide up all her cats to take care of them, the criminal, who, oddly had been feeding the strays in Knockturn in his spare time in between burglaries, and the grandmother--

Harry sat up, eyes wide. The grandmother had been out walking her cat when she’d been taken. “Could that be it?” he asked aloud. “A love of animals?” He bit his lip and looked around his empty flat. “Right,” he muttered. “And I’ve started talking to myself. Cracking up now.”

But the thought wouldn’t leave him. All the victims had kept pets of some sort. It’s not much to go on, he thought as he prepared for bed. Especially in the wizarding world where people keep familiars. But it’s something.

The next day he got to work early to start looking back over their case board. When Ron arrived, Harry had been there for at least an hour.

“Bloody hell, did you just stay here all night?” Ron asked, walking in. “You need a social life, mate.”

Absently, Harry held up two fingers in an unmistakable gesture.

“Yeah, there may have been a little of that last night, too,” Ron said, grinning.

“More than just a little from the looks of it,” Harry shot back, nodding at the bite marks on Ron’s neck. He smirked. “You’re going to have to Glamour yourself before you go to the Burrow for dinner this weekend.”

Blushing, Ron pulled his collar a bit higher. “Shut it,” he muttered.

Sobering, Harry pointed to the board. “Anyway, back to business. I think had a bit of a breakthrough last night. Not much, and I’m not sure what it means, but there’s one connection our victims had. They all loved animals.”

“Okay.” Ron moved closer, peering at the board. “But so do a lot of people. You really think that’s important?”

“No idea,” said Harry. “But it’s the only thing we have connecting them.”

“All right.” Ron perched on the edge of Harry’s desk. “So what do we do with this new information?”

“I think we have to go and interview the families again, and this time we need to ask specifically about their love of animals.” Harry crossed his arms. “Maybe they all frequented the same pet shop?” He frowned. “Are there many pet shops in the Wizarding world?”

Ron shook his head. “Not really. The largest one I know is Magical Menagerie in Diagon. We could start there, see if any of our victims shopped there recently.”

“It’s a start,” said Harry. “Come on, we’ll check there first.”

The Magical Menagerie was as busy as Harry could recall seeing it. “Goodness me, you’re Harry Potter!” said the proprietor when they approached her. Harry vaguely recalled the woman who had sold Hedwig to Hagrid, and this short, dark-haired witch wasn’t her. She eyed the Auror insignia on Harry’s uniform and frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry, I mean Auror Potter.” She looked over at Ron. “How can I help you and your partner--?”

“Ron Weasley,” said Ron. “And you are--?”

The woman smiled. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Millicent Nelson. I took over the shop from my grandmother a few months ago. She’s taking a well-earned retirement.”

“Nice to meet you, Madam Nelson. We’re in the middle of an investigation,” said Ron, pulling out a parchment with all the victims’ names. “We need to know if any of these people purchased anything here recently. Do you keep records of purchases?”

She nodded. “Why yes, of course. Come this way.”

“I think I’d like to look around the shop,” said Harry. “If that’s all right?”

“Of course, of course.” Madam Nelson gestured to Ron. “This way, Auror.”

While Madam Nelson helped Ron, Harry wandered the shop, scanning for anything out of place. There were giggling children and their parents everywhere, cooing over the animals. Harry frowned. There was something off about the whole scene, though...

A little girl ran past him. “Mummy, can I have a kitten as my familiar at Hogwarts?”

Harry exhaled. That’s it. He’d forgotten it was almost time for children to go back to school. No wonder everyone was so frantic. He saw a little boy choosing his familiar, or rather, the familiar choosing the boy as it stretched its paws out as if pleading to be picked up and held.

Harry smiled at the sight.

“What’s so funny?” asked Ron, strolling up to him.

Harry shook his head. “It’s nothing important. So, did you discover anything?”

Nodding, Ron held up the parchment. “All of our victims have shopped here within the past year. Mostly for pet food and toys. They all bought different items, though.” He sighed. “It’s not a lot to go on, but it’s something. Our first real clue. Did you find anything?”

“Not really.” Harry gestured. “The place is packed right now, though. It’d be hard to spot anything out of the ordinary.”

“True.” Ron nodded towards the door. “Madam Nelson says she’s happy to let us look at her books, but not until she’s closed for the day, so maybe we should come back later and look around the shop at the same time when the place isn’t so crowded?”

“Good idea,” said Harry.

“In the meantime, we could stop at George’s place,” said Ron. “You know, while we’re in the neighbourhood.”

Harry shrugged. There wasn’t a rush to get back to the Ministry. “Sure.”

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was packed, too, although, when he spotted them, George immediately stopped what he was doing to chat. “Verity, finish this sale, will you?” he called to his assistant. “Hey, Harry. Ronnie. How come you two are out for a stroll? Are things that slow in the DMLE? Are you finally going to come and work for me and get real jobs?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Ha ha.”

“The joke business looks like it’s going well,” said Harry, looking around. “You’re busy.”

“Yeah, things here are brilliant,” said George. “I dunno if I told you, but we’re expanding our hours, and I even hired another shop assistant a few weeks ago to keep up with the demand.”

“Oh?” asked Harry. Beside him, Ron shifted as if nervous.

“Yeah.” George leaned close. “I wasn’t sure about her, and she didn’t seem to want to tell me what she’s been doing the last few years, but she’s a good worker.”

“Who is it?” asked Harry, curious.

Just then, Pansy Parkinson emerged from the back room, carrying boxes. When she spotted Harry and Ron she stared, then blushed, and finally, averting her eyes, hurried towards some shelves to start restocking.

Harry did a double take. “You hired Parkinson? Pansy Parkinson?”

“I know what you’re going to say,” George said, holding up a hand. “But honestly, she’s not that bad. She’s dedicated, thorough, and she’s very quick. She picked up the job with hardly any training.”

Harry pursed his lips. “I never doubted she was smart. It’s just her morals I’m concerned about.”

George shrugged. “I’ve a theft charm on the place. She can’t steal anything.”

“Okay, it’s your business, mate.” Harry shook his head. “I’m just the silent partner, although I’d be careful of her. She may have her own agenda.”

“Or she may just have needed a job,” snapped Ron, face flushed. “The war ended a long time ago. And everyone did things they were ashamed of back then. So maybe we should cut her some slack!”

Harry, surprised at Ron’s vehement response, blinked. “Okay.” He frowned. “Since when are you a Slytherin defender?”

“I’m everyone’s defender,” said Ron, scowling. “As you should be. We’re Aurors, remember?”

“Anyway,” interrupted George, eyebrow raised. “That’s what’s going on with me. What are you lads doing in the neighbourhood?”

Harry looked away from Ron. “We’re in the middle of an investigation and we had some downtime, so we thought we’d pop in for a visit,” he said. “But we should probably get back to work now.”

“Yeah.” George was starting at Ron, who was glaring at both him and Harry. “I can see that. Someone’s just a bit testy.”

“Fuck. You,” said Ron, enunciating very clearly before stalking out of the shop.

Looking after him, Harry coughed. “Right, that’s my cue. See you, George.”

Clearly amused, George nodded. “See you.” He shook Harry’s hand before saying, “And let me know when you two want real jobs, yeah?”

Harry laughed.

Once he got outside, he found Ron waiting. Harry raised an eyebrow. “So what was that about?”

“Nothing.” At Harry’s look, Ron cleared his throat. “Really, it’s nothing. I just--” He shook his head. “You fought and even died so everyone could have a chance at a good life, right?” At Harry’s nod, he continued, “And that included Slytherins.”

“True.” Harry held up a hand. “I know what you’re saying, and you’re right. It’s time to let bygones be bygones. It’s hard to let go of some things, though.”

“You forgave me for abandoning you when we were on the run,” said Ron, his expression pleading. “Can’t you forgive her for wanting to turn you over to Voldemort? After all, she was just a scared kid, and she wasn’t the only one who made mistakes back then.” He coughed. “At least one assumes.”

Harry smiled faintly. Well, well, well, he thought. He cleared his throat. “That’s also true. And yeah, I suppose I can forgive her that. But this is also about trust. And she has yet to earn that.”

Slowly, Ron nodded. “Fair enough. But maybe if you give her a chance, she will.”

Harry hummed as they turned to walk back to the Ministry. “Maybe so, Ron. Maybe so.”

Back in their offices, Harry looked through the interoffice memos that were waiting, while Ron did the same in his office. By the time they were done, it was early evening and they met in the lobby. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do this alone?” Harry said. He smirked. “You know, in case you have another hot date tonight with your mystery woman?”

Ron blushed. “Shut it, you. Anyway, she’s working late tonight.”

“Is she now?” Harry grinned. “And now I know the real reason you’re sticking around.”

Ron huffed. “Can we just get on with this?”

Laughing, Harry gestured towards the exit Floos. “After you.”

Madam Nelson was waiting for them at Magical Menagerie. “I just started putting all the animals to bed,” she said as she opened the door. “So if you could be quiet I’d appreciate it.” Leading them through into the back, she pulled out her ledgers. “Here you are. If that’s all, I’ll finish tucking the animals in for the night before I go to bed.”

“We’re sorry if we’re keeping you here late,” said Harry.

She smiled. “On, it’s fine. I live above the shop, so it’s not really a bother.” Patting the books, she moved towards the door. “I’ll leave you to it, then, Aurors.”

“Thank you,” said Harry.

As he and Ron pored over ledgers, they could hear Madam Nelson moving about the shop, and they could hear various purrs and barks and bird calls. After a while they quieted down and, in the silence, Harry’s eyes started to droop. He yawned. “Find anything?” he asked.

“Nope.” Ron rubbed his eyes. “I’m not sure this is much of a lead.”

“Yeah.” Harry sighed, setting aside his ledger. “They all purchased stuff here, but none of it was that similar and I can’t tell if any of them were here at the same time. These ledgers are pretty jumbled.” He pushed back from the table. “Anyway, we’re both tired. I say we call it a night and see what else we can come up with in the morning. There’s still the families to interview again.”

“All right. Sounds like a plan to me,” agreed Ron, closing his ledger. “Hey, do you think she’d let us make a copy of these so we can look at them back at the office at our leisure?”

“Good idea,” said Harry. “Let’s ask her.”

Madam Nelson had no problem with them making copies, and so, after doing a quick Duplication Spell, Harry shrunk the ledger copies, putting them in his pocket. “Thank you for your cooperation, Madam,” he said as they moved towards the door.

She smiled. “Of course, Auror Potter. It was no trouble at all.”

As Harry and Ron exited the shop, Ron coughed. “I think I’ll go see if Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is closed yet. You know, in case George needs some help.”

Harry pursed his lips. Of course. “Do you want me to go with you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“On no!” Ron smiled. “I’m fine. See you tomorrow.”

Grinning to himself, Harry nodded, turning away. As he strolled away from Magical Menagerie, however, some instinct made him turn to look back at it, and he saw a slender figure emerge from the shadows and scale up the side of the building. Eyes narrowed, Harry paused, drawing his wand. Keeping to the shadows, he reversed course, edging back toward the pet shop.

Once there, he looked up, only to see the figure was gone. Probably inside by now, thought Harry. Not wanting to alert the intruder, he jimmied the lock on the front door, easing it open before slipping back inside.

All was quiet. It seemed Madam Nelson had already gone to bed. Knowing the animals would be quick to hear him and raise an alarm, Harry cast a Sound Deadening Spell on himself before creeping forward.

The shop was a lot more eerie in the dark, and Harry, moving carefully, kept reminding himself that there wasn’t anything to worry about. Probably.

He could see a light flickering ahead, and Harry edged towards it slowly. As he drew nearer to the glow, he heard indistinct muttering. Crouching down, Harry peered around a doorframe to look.

“...are you in here?” The person whispering had their back to Harry and seemed to be going from cage to hanging cage, peering inside, wand held aloft, its muted glow providing limited light. “If you’re here, you have to give me a sign. Please.”

Harry frowned. It didn’t seem to be a normal robbery, but it was still unlawful breaking and entering. He paused a moment to admire the robber’s lithe body and shapely arse before raising his wand and casting a non-verbal Stunning Spell. He smirked as the figure dropped to the ground with a thud. Their wand rolled on the floor towards the centre of the room, its tip still glowing.

Coming from behind the door, Harry walked forward. “Right, now to see who you are and what you’re doing breaking into a pet shop--” With his foot, Harry nudged the intruder onto their back, freezing when he saw their face. “Malfoy? What the hell?”

Draco Malfoy, dressed in tight black trousers, a black shirt, and soft black leather boots, was sprawled at his feet. Harry narrowed his eyes. Within moments, he had Malfoy tied to a chair and was holding both their wands.

A moment later, Madam Nelson, in her dressing gown, hurried into the room to investigate the commotion. “Oh, Merlin!” she gasped when she saw Malfoy. A brief look of revulsion crossed her face.

“I found him looking through the cages,” said Harry. “And I saw him break in through one of the upstairs windows.”

Madam Nelson shook her head. “But why?”

“That’s just what I’m about to ask.” Waving his wand, Harry cancelled the Stunning Spell. Malfoy immediately sat up straighter, glaring.

“Right,” said Harry. “What are you doing here, Malfoy?”

Huffing, Malfoy looked away. “Shopping.”

“It’s after ten, and the shop’s already closed.” Harry pursed his lips. “You really should cooperate. Madam Nelson here would be within her rights to press charges.”

“For what?” Malfoy sneered. “I haven’t stolen anything.”

“Breaking and entering is still illegal.” Harry crossed his arms. “And for all I know I could have interrupted you mid-crime. Just because you hadn’t stolen anything yet doesn’t mean you weren’t about to. Now, tell me why you were here?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I was looking for something.”

“What?”

Malfoy smirked. “A familiar.”

Harry snorted. “Typically, law-abiding citizens make their selections during normal business hours,” he said, tone dry. “At least if they are intending to purchase and not steal.”

“I was in earlier,” said Malfoy, slanting a glance at Madam Nelson. “But it was too crowded, and when I asked if I could come back after hours, I was told no.”

Madam Nelson huffed. “Well of course I said no! The animals can’t have their normal schedules disrupted, it’s not good for them.”

“Especially since there are so few of them, right?” said Malfoy.

Harry frowned. “What?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “And you call yourself an Auror? You were in here when you were eleven, weren’t you? Don’t you remember how many pets there were here at the time? There are less than half that number in stock now. So why is that, Madam?”

Harry pursed his lips. That was what he’d noticed was off. There were far fewer animals than he recalled from his childhood. Intrigued, he waited for Madam Nelson’s answer.

Madam Nelson blinked. “Well, I don’t know!” she said, looking back and forth between them. “How would I know that?” She huffed. “That would be a question for my supplier.”

“And who’s that, then?” asked Malfoy as he was conducting the interview and had Madam Nelson on the defensive.

“Why, it’s many people! I have several suppliers,” Madam Nelson blustered. She blinked. “Anyway, why am I the one being interrogated?” she snapped. “I’m not the one who committed a crime!”

Harry nodded. “Quite true,” he said, keeping his expression open even as his mind raced. “Madam Nelson’s correct. She isn’t the one who needs to answer questions right now, Malfoy, you are. So I’m giving you one last chance. Tell me what you were really doing here, or I take you to the Ministry, lock you in a holding cell, and you’ll have to hire some expensive solicitor to argue your case in front of the Wizengamot.”

Malfoy stared up at Harry for a long moment before his shoulders slumped. “I was searching for my mother. She disappeared a few days ago.”

Harry blinked. There was another missing person? “Okay. First, why didn’t you just report it to the missing persons section of the DMLE? That’s my sub-department. And second, why are you searching for her here?”

“I know it’s your sub-department.” Malfoy sniffed. “And, knowing how you feel about me, I knew you were unlikely to help me. As for why here--” He rolled his eyes. “Think about it.”

“Think about what?” Harry snapped, impatient. “Look, Malfoy--”

“She’s an Animagus, all right?!” Malfoy shouted. He sighed. “She’s unregistered, so I couldn’t just go to the authorities for help. I work in the Department of Mysteries, Potter, I know the regulations. I could be in trouble for not reporting her. So I decided to conduct my own investigation. I started here to see if anyone picked her up and brought her in as an animal with magical potential.”

An Animagus. Harry gasped as the pieces all fell into place. Was that what was going on? Was Malfoy correct? There were four missing people, well five including Narcissa Malfoy. Was that the detail he’d been missing? I have to get Malfoy out of here. Thoughtful, Harry eyed him. He seemed sincere enough. Exhaling, he turned towards Madam Nelson. “Are you going to press charges, Madam?”

Madam Nelson huffed, gathering her dressing robe more tightly around herself. “No, I suppose not,” she finally said. “But he’s not allowed back in here again. Ever.”

“Understandable.” Waving his wand, Harry freed Malfoy from the ropes tying him to his chair. “Come on,” he said, grasping his arm and hauling him out of the chair. “We’re going to the Ministry.”

“But she said she wasn’t pressing charges,” Malfoy whinged.

Harry tightened his grip on his arm. “I know. But I still could. Now let’s go.”

When they arrived in the Ministry’s Atrium, there were very few people around. His grip solid on Malfoy’s arm, Harry steered him towards the lifts. It took him a minute, but Harry could tell the moment Malfoy realised he wasn’t going towards the cells. “Where are you taking me, Potter?” he spat as he was dragged along the corridor towards the DMLE. “I’ll have you for Auror brutality--”

Arriving at his office, Harry shoved Malfoy inside, forcibly sitting him down in a chair. After locking the door with his wand, he turned up the lights and pointed to the case board. “I’ve been investigating mysterious disappearances for the past couple of months. All different people, the only connection we’ve come up with is that they all liked animals.”

Malfoy leaned forward, eyes narrowed as he studied the board. “All right,” he finally said. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You’re in the Department of Mysteries. You could provide a different angle on the case.” Harry hesitated. “Plus, what you said about your mother being an Animagus-- Well, it made me wonder if the others were, too.” He crossed his arms. “Is there a way to tell if someone’s an Animagus, or has that potential?”

Malfoy sat back in his chair and pursed his lips as if thinking how much to say. “Yes,” he said finally. “This topic has been a special project of my department for several years. It’s not widely known that we can detect Animagus potential, though.”

Harry exhaled. “I’ll need you to show me how to do it.”

“And if I don’t?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “I can still charge you with breaking and entering.”

Malfoy smirked. “But you won’t. After all, you need my help.”

“Does this mean you’re actually agreeing to help us?” Harry asked.

“It doesn’t look as though I have much of a choice, does it?” Malfoy hummed. “So, just to be clear, we are now collaborating on this case.” He licked his lips and smirked. “We’re...partners of a sort.”

Harry ignored the jolt of arousal caused by the sight of Malfoy with wet lips. What’s wrong with me tonight? “Yep.”

“Well,” said Malfoy. “This should be fun. Although I’m curious. You could have thrown me in a cell and gone to someone else in the DMLE for assistance. Why me?”

“Because you mother is involved, which makes you motivated. And, you clearly have access to information we don’t. Plus, if we’re working this case together, I can keep an eye on you.” Harry smirked. “I’m sure the Diagon Alley shopkeepers association will thank you.”

“Ha ha.” Malfoy snorted. “The Diagon Alley shopkeepers association is a bunch of puffed up wankers who--” He huffed at Harry’s hard stare. “Fine. All right.” He smirked. “Plus, you always did have a thing for skulking about, following me. I suppose if I don’t I’ll have to deal with you breathing down my neck, anyway.”

The thought of breathing on Malfoy’s neck sent a jolt through Harry. “Malfoy,” he growled. “Enough. Are you going to help or not?”

Malfoy stood up, sauntering towards the case board. Harry tried hard not to stare at his arse, perfectly outlined in his fucking perfect trousers. “Of course I am,” he said. “Someone competent needs to be working this case. Now, we’ll need to add my mother’s information to this,” he said, tapping the board with his finger.

Harry exhaled. “Of course.” Reaching into his pocket, he moved towards Malfoy. When he was closer, he held out Malfoy’s wand, returning it. “What is her Animagus form, by the way?”

Malfoy sighed, accepting the wand. He hesitated for a long moment. “She’s an owl,” he finally said.

Harry nodded. “And you’re sure she’s not just...off on a prolonged flight?” he asked.

Malfoy shook his head. “We were supposed to have dinner together two nights ago. She never misses our dinners, not since Father--”

Since Harry knew Malfoy’s father had died in Azkaban, there was no reason to ask about that. He looked away for a moment. “Okay. So what do you know of her disappearance?”

Malfoy continued staring at the case board. “We were supposed to meet, as I said. When I showed up for dinner, our house-elf said she was still out.” He shrugged. “Which isn’t that unusual. Mother can get a bit caught up when shopping. But when she didn’t return to the Manor that night I went looking for her. There was no sign of her on the grounds, the wards hadn’t been disturbed, and none of her friends had seen her.” Malfoy leaned against Harry desk. “Ever since the end of the war, we’ve kept a low level Tracing Spell on each other.” He glanced at Harry. “She didn’t want to have to find out my status from someone else ever again.”

Harry nodded, recalling the anguish in Narcissa’s voice when she whispered to him, asking him whether Malfoy was still alive, that fateful day in the forest. “Understandable.”

“But the Tracing Spell stopped working.” Malfoy put his hands up over his face and rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted. “It’s supposed to work even if someone’s dead, but I can’t sense her anywhere.”

“So that’s good, though, right?” said Harry. “It means she’s probably alive someplace.”

“It doesn’t work when someone’s in animal form. We tested it. So yes, I believe she’s trapped somewhere in her Animagus form.” Malfoy moved away from the desk. “And it has something to do with that shop, I just know it does.” He poked his wand at the words ‘Magical Menagerie’ that were up on the case board. “Something dodgy’s going on in that shop.”

“Could be,” said Harry. Reaching out, he slowly lowered Malfoy’s wand. “But hexing the case board won’t help us find out what that is.”

“No, I suppose not.” Tucking the wand into an arm holster, Malfoy tilted his head, staring at the board for a long moment. “You know this really is a good idea, putting everything up here like this,” he said. “It’s very visual.”

Harry nodded. “”I’m a visual learner.”

“Are you?” Malfoy eyed him speculatively. “How’d you come up with this idea, anyway?”

“I took a Muggle police course. They do it all the time.”

Malfoy nodded. “Right.” He smirked. “I say, isn’t your official partner Weasley? What’s he going to say about me joining your team?”

Harry hummed, mentally crossing his fingers. “He’ll be fine.”

Ron wasn’t fine. When he arrived the next day to find Malfoy in Harry’s office, adding things to the case board, he stared, mumbled something in Malfoy’s general direction, and dragged Harry into the hallway to yell at him. “What in all the hells are you thinking, mate?” he hissed after Harry filled him in on the events of the previous evening. “It’s Malfoy!”

“Yes, I know who it is,” Harry said. “Aren’t you the one who said the war’s over and we need to cut those who were on the other side some slack?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or is that only the case when it comes to pretty girls who you fancy?”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” When Harry simply continued looking at him, however, Ron’s shoulders slumped. “How did you know? I didn’t--” His eyes went wide. “Did I somehow give myself away yesterday? George doesn’t know, does he?”

Harry smiled. “I’ve no idea what George knows, although he’s not an idiot, and you did rather give yourself away with the way you were defending Parkinson. Although honestly? It was a shot in the dark.” His smile widened. “Thanks for the confirmation.”

Ron shook his head. “No, but you knew before I said it. That wasn’t a guess. How’d you know?”

“I dunno, it was a lot of little things. Your defence of her in Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was a bit too passionate, and there’s the way you looked at her, the way she looked at you--” Harry shrugged. “It just all fell into place, I guess.”

Ron sighed. “There are days I wish you were less perceptive,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache. He looked up. “Don’t tell anyone yet, all right?” he finally said. “I want to break the news to everyone myself, I want to take her home to meet Mum.”

Harry blinked. “I guess it’s serious, then? Must be if you’re taking her to the Burrow to meet the family.”

“I want it to be.” Ron shook his head. “But we’re not discussing Pansy right now, we’re talking about Malfoy, who by the way, must I remind you, you caught breaking and entering the Magical Menagerie last night! How can you just...overlook that?”

“I’m not, but he’s a Ministry employee. I checked his records, well, the portions of them I was allowed to access, anyway, and he’s pretty popular. He’s on the fast track to go far in that department. He jeopardised a lot to try to find his mother, I think he deserves our help. Plus--” Harry hesitated. “I honestly think this is the key to our case.”

“Why do you think that?” asked Ron.

“Dunno.” Harry shrugged. “It’s just a feeling I have.”

Slowly, Ron shook his head. “You and your bloody instincts. All right, we’ll do it your way. I guess we should look at the facts of Narcissa’s disappearance and see how it ties into the others. And I’ll see if anything about her case can help us with the others.”

“Finally, a sound investigative principle at work.” Malfoy, leaning against the doorframe, smirked as they both jumped and looked at him. “I was beginning to despair for our justice system. Now, if you’re done discussing me behind my back, I think I may have found something.”

As they all stood in front of the case board, Malfoy pointed. “See here? It looks as if all the kidnapping victims were at the Magical Menagerie the on same day about two months ago. It was a Saturday.”

“How in the hell did you come up with that?” asked Ron.

Malfoy gestured towards the table where the copies of Magical Menagerie’s ledgers were sitting. “I did a search for the victims’ names in the ledgers, and narrowed it down to any dates where they were in the shop at the same time.”

“That must have taken ages,” said Ron. “Those records were a mess.”

Malfoy sniffed. “They were, which is why I used my brain. I simply utilised a highlighting spell with tightly controlled parameters. It pulled the victims names and I linked them with the dates when they all visited the shop. As you can see, there’s only one such date.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Brilliant!”

Malfoy hummed. “Thank you. So, it looks as if something may have happened on this specific day. We need to find out what that was.”

“But people only started disappearing a couple of weeks ago,” said Ron. “If something pivotal happened that far back, why the delay?”

“No idea,” said Malfoy. “But I know who we should ask.”

“Who?” asked Harry.

Malfoy smirked. “Madam Nelson. And, while we’re at it, we should talk to her animal supplier and take another look around her shop.”

“Damn.” Harry sighed. “I doubt she’s going to agree to let you near her or her shop again. You’ve been banned for life from it, remember?”

Malfoy shrugged. “In human form, anyway. Luckily, there are other options open to me.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Wait. You’re an Animagus?”

“Not yet, but I believe I have the potential.” Malfoy gave Harry a slow once-over that made him tingle. “And don’t look so shocked,” he said. “I believe you do, too.”

Ron looked back and forth between them. “Right. Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“And me,” said Harry, crossing his arms.

Malfoy huffed. “Your father was an Animagus, Potter, as is my mother. Our research indicates that the ability to shift into animal form could be genetic.”

“So you think it’ll be easier for me to become an Animagus because of my dad?” Harry nodded slowly. “Okay. But it still takes months, if not years, to harness that ability. We don’t have that much time.”

“True,” said Malfoy. “But we can brew a potion to unlock that potential, encourage it to the surface.”

“There’s an Animagus potion now?” Ron rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell! Why does no one tell me these things?”

“In this case no one’s told you because it’s not widely known by the public.” Malfoy crossed his arms. “Can you imagine what the reaction would be if this became general knowledge?” He rolled his eyes. “Any idiot would try it.” He eyed Ron pointedly.

Harry sighed. “Will it make anyone into an Animagus?” he asked.

“No.” Malfoy shook his head. “Only those who already have that innate ability. It could be very harmful to someone without that potential, possibly lethal, in fact.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. So if you’re not sure you have the ability and you take this potion and you don’t actually have it, then you die? Fucking hell” He turned to Harry. “You can’t, mate. This is mental!”

Harry kept looking at Malfoy. “I’ll be fine,” he finally said. “It won’t kill me.”

“You hope!” Ron shook his head. “No way I’m letting you do this. No way!”

Harry sighed. “All right, so how else are we going to go undercover and see what’s really happening at Magical Menagerie? Because Malfoy’s correct, something’s not right about that shop, but now that Madam Nelson knows we’re investigating, she’ll see us coming from a mile away. We need another way to look into things.”

Ron huffed. “I don’t like it,” he muttered.

“Well then, by all means, Weasley,” drawled Malfoy. “We await your brilliant alternative.”

“Well I don’t have one, do I?” snapped Ron. Looking at Harry, he shook his head. “You’re sure he has to be on this case?”

Harry inclined his head. “Since he has, we’ve had our first break in it. Yeah, I think so, mate.”

“Fine,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. He glared at Malfoy. “If he anything bad happens to him from taking this sodding potion of yours--”

“Let me guess,” Malfoy drawled, looking bored. “You’ll kill me?”

“Oh, that’s a given,” said Ron. “But first, I’ll turn you over to Hermione and Ginny and let them work on you for a while first.” He smirked. “And by the time they’re done with you, you’ll pray for death.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed.

Harry sighed. “Stop trying to intimidate him, Ron. Now come on, Malfoy. Let’s go brew this potion.”

Ron hummed, stepping away. “While you do that, I’ll see if I can figure out who Madam Nelson’s supplier is. We have to have that on file somewhere in Ministry records, right?”

Harry nodded. “Good idea. Just stay away from the shop.”

Ron nodded. “Will do.”

Once he was gone, Malfoy turned to Harry. “You certainly have protective friends.”

Harry smiled. “They’re fond of me, yes.”

Malfoy pursed his lips and nodded. “So it seems.” Moving past him, he murmured, “And it’s making me curious, Potter.”

“About what?” Harry asked, following him.

“About whether or not you’re worth it,” Malfoy tossed over his shoulder. “Now do come on. Our next stop is the Department of Mysteries.”

The Department of Mysteries was as dark and unwelcoming as Harry recalled from his previous foray there in his fifth year. When Malfoy directed him through into his office, however, Harry was impressed. Far from dark and dank, it was homely, comfortable, with warm wood-panelled walls and a leather sofa and chairs placed by a fireplace. As Harry looked around, Malfoy strode towards one of two desks, opening a drawer and rummaging through it.

Harry eyed the other desk. “Do you have a partner?”

Malfoy looked up at him. “Sometimes,” he said cryptically. “Not at the moment, however.”

“Ah.” Pursing his lips, Harry approached a shelf, leaning in to get a closer look at the books. Before he could touch anything, however, Malfoy was standing beside him, a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Don’t touch anything.”

“Wasn’t going to, actually,” said Harry. “I do know better. I figure you Unspeakables probably have dangerous things lying about. I’m not stupid, after all.”

“No, you’re not, are you?” Malfoy’s expression was speculative.

Harry laughed. “No need to act so surprised.” Looking down at the papers in Malfoy’s hand, he said, “Is that the formula?”

“Yes.” Malfoy sighed. “We have some work ahead of us, I’m afraid.”

“Oh?”

“The base formula takes about twelve hours to brew, and there are some individual adjustments that are needed before we can use it.”

“Right,” said Harry. “You have a laboratory here, I presume?”

“Just through there,” said Malfoy, nodding at a door behind his desk.

Harry nodded. “Let’s get started, then.”

They worked all day, first making the base formula and then Malfoy taking samples of both his and Harry’s hair and toenails for the specific additives to their individual potions. Placing them in two small phials, he set them aside. “And that’s it for now.”

“And now we wait,” murmured Harry. “Are you hungry?”

Malfoy shrugged. “I could eat.” A moment later his stomach grumbled. He flushed. “Evidently sooner is better than later.”

Harry smiled. “The closest thing is the Ministry canteen.”

Malfoy shuddered. “You actually eat there?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Good.” Malfoy smirked. “Because I was about to revise my opinion of your intelligence.”

They decided on a local sandwich shop, and after they had both ordered, Harry sat back and looked at Malfoy. “You’ve changed.”

Malfoy snorted. “We’ve all changed, Potter. None of us are the way we used to be in school. We all seem to have grown up.” He made a face. “Even Weasley, although if you tell him I said that, I shall deny it.”

Harry laughed. “Understood.” He went serious. “So something’s been bothering me.”

“Well we can’t have that.” Malfoy smirked. “Spill.”

Harry picked at the table cloth, avoiding Malfoy’s eyes. “When I caught you breaking into the Magical Menagerie last night, you said you knew I investigated missing person cases, but you also knew I wouldn’t help you.”

Malfoy nodded.

Harry leaned forward. “Why would you think that?”

Malfoy snorted. “Because of our history.” He sighed, toying with his water glass. “I am willing to admit that I may have rushed to judgement, though. You’ve been remarkably decent about the whole thing. Especially since you could have thrown me in a holding cell at the Ministry.” His lips twisted. “A lot of people would have loved to see that.”

Harry frowned. “But--”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I thought you were popular in your department,” said Harry. “When I checked your file--” He paused. “I mean--”

Malfoy waved a hand. “Oh please. I heard you tell Weasley that just this morning. Anyway, I figured you’d check my work history. Why wouldn’t you? If our situations had been reversed I’d have checked, too.” He shrugged. “And people certainly respect my work for the most part. But popular? No. Not by a long shot. A lot of people still remember the war and my role in it.”

The awkward silence was interrupted by the arrival of sandwiches, and they both fell on them, clearly hungry. Harry polished his off, all the while watching surreptitiously as Malfoy ate with neat, quick bites. Without planning it they both decided to order afters, Malfoy picking chocolate cake, and Harry sticking with his old favourite, treacle tart. “I’m stuffed,” he said afterward as they stood to go, having already split the bill.

Malfoy nodded. “I don’t usually overindulge at lunch since it can make for less productive afternoons, but since I think we’ll be brewing until well into the evening, I decided I could afford the indulgence.”

Harry looked Malfoy up and down. “You can’t be worried about getting fat.”

Malfoy smirked. “I do have a fairly high metabolism, it’s true.” He smoothed a hand over his hair. “Now baldness, on the other hand--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t lack for company either way,” Harry said absently.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Was that an actual compliment, Potter?”

Harry flushed. “And if it was?”

“Then I need to check and see if it’s snowing in hell.” Malfoy started for the door. “And I think it’s time we get back before you say anything else that could be interpreted as complimentary.”

Harry shook his head as he followed. A moment later he was frowning. “Wait, you can check the weather in hell?”

Malfoy snorted. “We need to get back to the lab and start brewing again. “You’re clearly staring to go into the post-lunch slump.”

Later that day, Harry had to concede that Malfoy was right, they were probably going to be there most of the evening. Ron sent an interoffice memo at about six saying he had a list of suppliers to follow up on, and that he was knocking off for the night. Smirking, Harry shoved it in his pocket, sure that Ron was off to see Parkinson again. Of course, Malfoy saw his expression.

“Is something funny?” he asked, looking up from his careful stirring of the potion.

“Not really. Ron’s done. He says he’ll see us tomorrow morning.” Harry pursed his lips. “Are you still close with Parkinson?”

Malfoy frowned, then his face cleared. “Oh, is this about Weasley dating her?” He glanced at the pocket where Harry had tucked the memo. “Did he say something about her?”

Harry shook his head. “No. He just said he was leaving for the night, and I assumed--”

“That he’s visiting Pansy.” Malfoy nodded. “Reasonable assumption. They have been seeing a lot of each other.”

“You knew?” Harry crossed his arms. “And you...didn’t mind?”

Malfoy removed the stirring rod from the cauldron and cleaned it. “Pansy doesn’t care what my opinion is on this. And since she’s the one dating him, that’s only appropriate.”

“So you don’t approve.”

Malfoy nodded at the half-chopped ingredients in front of Harry. “Those Flobberworms aren’t going to chop themselves, Potter, and I’ll need them in about two minutes. Do hurry.”

“Right.” Harry resumed chopping. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“About whether or not I approve of Pansy’s dating Weasley?” Malfoy hummed, peering into the cauldron. Again picking up the stirring rod, he dipped it into the potion to check the viscosity. “She seems to like him well enough, so...it’s a moot point what I think. Although I do think Gryffindor/Slytherin pairings have certain inherent...problems to overcome.” He turned away to fiddle with something Harry couldn’t see. “I take it you don’t approve?”

“I didn’t at first,” Harry admitted. “But, like you said, it’s not my business.” He pursed his lips, tilting his head to get a better view of Malfoy’s spectacular arse. “It’s odd, but I always thought...well I dunno why, but I assumed you and Parkinson would--”

Malfoy spun, startling Harry into blushing as he stopped ogling him. “Thought we would what?”

“You know,” Harry said, fighting down his blush. Maybe Malfoy would think it was the heat form the cauldron? “Get married, have kids. You seemed close in school.”

“We were close.” Malfoy hummed. “And if things had been different--” He sighed, turning away again. “Anyway, I always assumed the same as you, until she helped me work out certain truths.”

Harry frowned. “What truths?”

Malfoy abruptly stepped back from the cauldron. “I need those ingredients now, Potter,” he snapped. “This potion has a way of being volatile, and I don’t fancy wearing it.”

“Sorry,” said Harry, handing him the chopped Flobberworms.

Carefully, Malfoy added them one at a time, stirring between each addition. When he was done, the potion, which had previously been clear, was a deep ruby colour. Dipping a ladle into the cauldron, he decanted two phials, handing one to Harry.

“This is it, hm?” asked Harry, holding it up to look through it.

“Not quite,” said Malfoy. “Remember your hair and toenail clippings?”

Harry made a face.

Malfoy laughed. “It’s no worse than Polyjuice.” He smirked. “And that’s someone else’s hair.”

Harry shuddered. “Thanks for that.”

Rolling his eyes, Malfoy handed him the phial containing his hair and nails. “Just drop one hair and one toenail clipping into the potion.”

Harry did as instructed, watching the potion in the phial turn cloudy. “Do I drink it now?” he asked.

“No.” Malfoy had dropped his hair and nail in and was eyeing his own phial critically. “Now we leave it undisturbed for twelve hours. When the liquid goes clear again, it’s ready.”

Harry cast a Tempus Charm. “Ten-thirty. That was a long day of brewing.”

Malfoy shrugged. “Pretty typical day for me, actually.”

“When you’re not breaking and entering?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but his lips curved upwards. “That was a special occasion.”

“Right.” Harry gave him a half smile. “So, are you hungry?”

Malfoy hesitated. “It’s a bit late--” he said. As he paused, his stomach growled. He huffed. “It only does that around you,” he muttered.

Harry’s smile deepened. “I’m sure it’s only because it recognises the presence of someone who likes to eat.”

“I like to eat,” Malfoy said.

“You don’t act like it.” Harry nodded towards the door. “Come on. There’s a pub close by that serves a brilliant shepherd’s pie. They’ll be open for another thirty minutes.”

“Shepherd’s pie.” Malfoy sniffed. “Do they have a decent salad?”

“No idea,” said Harry. “Only one way to find out. Come on.”

Malfoy ended up ordering the pie, too, and as they ate, Harry watched him thoughtfully. He hadn’t missed Malfoy’s reluctance to state what ‘truths’ Pansy Parkinson had shared with him, and Harry was beginning to suspect he knew what they were. Were they the same ‘truths’ Ginny had shared when she and Harry had been working things out between them? Harry thought so, especially given the strong attraction he had to the other man, an attraction he sensed was reciprocated.

After they had finished eating, they exited the pub. It was a cool, clear night and Harry, following his instincts, said, “Are you far from here?”

Malfoy, shoving his hands in his pockets, smirked. “No. Why, are you angling for an invitation to my place?”

Harry smiled, tilting his head. Yes, they were definitely flirting. “Maybe.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed, his smirk disappearing. “Careful, Potter. If you get any more solicitous, people will think we’re on a date.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t care what other people think,” said Harry, stepping closer. “What does this feel like to you?”

Malfoy’s eyes glittered, looking almost silver under the light of the street lamps. “It feels like an impending Slytherin/Gryffindor problem brought on by our different approaches to the same situation,” he finally murmured.

“Why does it have to be a problem?” Harry whispered, his gaze dipping to Malfoy’s mouth.

“I suppose it doesn’t.” Malfoy dampened his lower lip with his tongue. “As long as both parties are clear with their expectations.”

“Expectations?” Harry repeated. He smiled, looking up and into Malfoy’s eyes. “I may have hopes, but I’m not sure I have expectations.”

“What are your hopes, then?” Malfoy asked.

“I’d like to see if you taste as good as you look,” said Harry, voice low. “I’d like to get my hands, and maybe some other bits, on that fabulous arse of yours, and I’d really like to have breakfast with you.”

Malfoy hummed. “So brash. This is exactly what I mean by different approaches. I was going to suggest we indulge in more verbal foreplay--”

“Sorry,” Harry growled, hauling Malfoy close. “I think we need more foreplay foreplay.” Slanting his mouth over Malfoy’s, Harry lapped his way into his mouth, moaning as Malfoy quickly responded, deepening the kiss.

Harry backed Malfoy up against the streetlamp, sliding his thigh between Malfoy’s legs. The taste of Malfoy, the scent of him, the way he was arching closer -- it was all making Harry rapidly lose his mind, and it was only a cough from a passer-by that made him stop and pull away, panting. “Oh hell,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against Malfoy’s as he caught his breath. “Forgot where we were for a moment.”

Malfoy seemed to be having similar breathing difficulties. “Well. Your idea of foreplay is...certainly interesting,” he said once he could talk.

Laughing softly, Harry tilted his face, kissing Malfoy’s jaw, his neck, licking his Adam’s apple. He smiled as he heard Malfoy’s breath hitch. “Can I interest you in more of it?”

Malfoy moaned. “Is this really what we should be doing the night before we attempt our first Animagus transformation?” he gasped.

Going still, Harry closed his eyes. “Probably not.” He scraped his teeth along the column of Malfoy’s throat, revelling in the gasping moan that elicited. “But I’ve never been accused of being especially wise.”

“Can’t say I have either,” said Malfoy after a pause. “My place?”

“Please,” Harry whispered.

There was a moment of nausea-inducing disorientation and then they were standing in a living room. Harry pulled Malfoy close once again, breathing hotly against his skin, his hands cupping Malfoy’s arse. “Bed? Or here?”

“I have a bed,” murmured Malfoy. He moaned as Harry rocked his erection against him. “But keep that up and we’ll be doing it here.”

“No,” said Harry, pulling back long enough to look Malfoy in the eyes. “I want to spread you out and take my time. Bed it is.”

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment. “Fuck, Potter,” he whispered.

“I’m trying,” said Harry, clasping Malfoy’s hand. “Bedroom?”

They snogged on their way down the hallway, pawing at buttons and managing to get mostly naked before they hit the bed. Malfoy sat up on his elbows, watching Harry step out of his pants before he crawled on top of him and leaned down to kiss him.

Malfoy spread his legs in invitation and Harry quickly took advantage, wrapping his hand around Malfoy’s cock to stroke. After a few pumps, Harry drew back, sliding his hand over Malfoy’s perineum. “Roll over,” he murmured against Malfoy’s mouth. “Let me see you.”

Malfoy laughed. “You just want to play with my arse.”

Harry grinned. “I won’t lie, that’s exactly what I want.”

Heaving himself up, Malfoy lay on his stomach and spread his legs. “There,” he said over his shoulder. “Happy?”

Licking his lips, Harry reached out, caressing the globes of Malfoy’s arse. He wasn’t sure when this arse had become an obsession, but seeing it bared, spread before him, he was pretty sure his preoccupation wasn’t about to end any time soon. Leaning down, he pressed his thumbs on either side of Malfoy’s hole. “Yes,” he whispered just before he ran his tongue over that wrinkled opening. “Very happy.”

“Potter!” Malfoy gasped at the first swipe of Harry’s tongue. “Holy fuck!”

Harry smiled and kept on lapping. Even when Malfoy’s shouts degenerated into whimpers, even when Malfoy was up on his knees, pushing his arse back against Harry’s face, begging, pleading with him to never stop, even when Harry’s tongue was buried inside Malfoy and was starting to get tired, he continued, until Malfoy was rocking back and forth, keening.

Only then did he raise his head and, not able to wait for lube, conjured some wandlessly, slicking himself up before slowly pressing his cock inside Malfoy.

Malfoy was panting, a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin. “Harry,” he whispered. “Please--”

Something about the sound of his name on Malfoy’s lips unleashed a beast in Harry, and he growled, pressing deeper, but still moving slowly. He wanted to savour the sensation of Malfoy’s muscles around him, wanted to take his time.

But Malfoy wasn’t having it. He started pushing back, fucking himself on Harry’s cock. He squeezed around Harry, and Harry gave up any more attempts to maintain a slow rhythm, pulling out and slamming back inside so hard he sent Malfoy sprawling.

“Yes!” Malfoy shouted, one hand fisting the bedcovers, the other stroking his own cock furiously. “Fuck me!”

Harry bent to his task, thrusting as hard and as fast as he could into Malfoy. His orgasm, when it came, was almost a shock. It moved through him, making his body shudder and his back arch in bliss as he poured himself into Malfoy, into Draco.

Collapsing on top of Draco, Harry gasped against his skin. “Fuck.”

Draco moaned, his hips shuddering as he came spilling onto the bedcovers. “Damn, Har-Potter,” he whispered.

“Harry,” Harry said, kissing Draco’s shoulder. “After a fuck like that I think I deserve to be called Harry.”

There was a pause, and then Draco started to laugh. “All right,” he murmured. “I’ll concede that point.”

Harry rolled off Draco and concentrated for a moment. Draco raised his head to look back at Harry as the Cleaning Spell moved over both of them. “And considerate, too,” he said, staring into Harry’s eyes.

Harry smiled. “Well, I did day I wanted to stay for breakfast, right?” Leaning in, he kissed Draco. “And if I hope to be invited to stay, I have to be a considerate guest.”

Draco hummed, turning to face him. “I’m beginning to wonder if our approaches are all that different.”

“I may have a little Slytherin in me,” Harry said.

“Only a little?” Draco pressed close once more. “Would you like a lot of Slytherin in you?”

Harry groaned. “That’s awful!”

“And yet, the question still demands an answer,” Draco said, his hand sliding down Harry’s flank to cup his arse. “So?”

Harry lay back, pulling Draco on top of him. “I think you’re right. Our approaches are very similar.” He smirked. “Although maybe you should show me yours just so we’re sure.”

“With pleasure,” purred Draco. And then there was very little talking.

Breakfast, which came after an early morning bout of sex that left them both panting and spent, was delicious, mainly because they both cooked, and because there was plenty of snogging and groping in between the meal preparation. Breakfast turned into lunch, and by the time they got to the Ministry they were quite late, and Harry was bracing to endure some well-deserved teasing from Ron.

“Looks like Weasley’s wandered off,” said Draco as they strode into Harry’s office. He shook his head, moving towards the case board.

Harry frowned, looking around. “Yeah. Maybe. He should have waited for us, though.”

“What time did he say he’d meet us?”

Harry pulled the memo from his pocket. “Noon.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “He’s late, then. It’s three.”

“I know.” Harry sighed. “He’s never been the most punctual bloke, but this isn’t like him.” He pursed his lips. “Although, I’m almost never late and I was today, so maybe he got tired of waiting?”

“Maybe.” Draco eyed Harry. “But you don’t believe that.”

“No.” Harry’s instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You have good instincts.”

Harry blinked at him, surprised. “Well I like to think so--”

“Weasley thought so, too. I remember him saying that yesterday when I eavesdropped on you.” Draco moved closer. “What do your instincts say about this?”

“That something’s seriously wrong.” Harry exhaled. “He knew that I’d want to hear everything he found out, so where is he?”

“Is there any way to track him?”

Harry pursed his lips in thought. “They do keep a trace of Aurors’ wands in the records department. But we need the permission of the head of the DMLE to access that information.”

“Isn’t the secretary there your ex-girlfriend?”

Harry coughed. “Cho isn’t my--”

“I recall hearing something about you two snogging during school.” Draco raised an eyebrow. “Or is my information faulty?”

Harry coughed. “No.”

Draco smirked. “I’m not saying to go down there and shag her, Harry. Just...talk to her. Explain. Maybe she can help.” He spread his hands. “Unless you feel as if this can wait.”

“No.” Harry’s voice was firm. “I have a bad feeling that we’re working against the clock on this one.”

Draco nodded. “Then you go to the records department and I’ll go to my lab.”

“Your lab?” said Harry as they started for the door. “Why?”

“Because our potions should be about ready,” Draco tossed over his shoulder. “Come down to the lab when you’re done.”

Harry shook his head. “You have a lot of faith in my persuasive abilities!” he called after him.

Draco’s chuckle drifted back to him. “I do after last night.”

Cho was pleased to see him, and even before he explained the problem, she was pulling out a list and a map, which she spread flat on her desk. “You technically need permission from your department head for this,” she said. “But there’s no rule that you can’t be here while I look up the information.” A few flicks of her wand and a muttered charm and Harry saw a large glowing spot hovering over the map.

Harry leaned close. “So it’s in London?”

“Hm,” Cho muttered. “Give me a moment and I’ll narrow it down a bit.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks, Cho. I really appreciate it.”

It took some time, but after some more flicks and swishes, the glowing spot was smaller and more concentrated. Cho nodded. “That’s better. Looks like his wand is in Diagon Alley. Somewhere close to Gringotts, I think. I can’t say exactly where.”

“Oh,” said Harry, heart sinking. “I think I know where. Thanks, Cho! I owe you one.”

She smiled at him. “I hope Ron’s okay.”

“Yeah,” said Harry as he started for the door. “Me, too.”

Draco was waiting for him in the lab when got there. “Well?” he asked as Harry approached. He glanced at the clock. “Two hours? What the hell took you so long?”

“She let me see where his wand is,” said Harry. “Guess where.”

“Magical Menagerie.”

“Got it in one.” Harry sighed. “We need to go there, and we should have backup, but I can’t very well justify it by saying that I have a bad feeling. If I burst in there with a bunch of Aurors and there’s nothing-- Anyway, what about the potions?”

“I think they’re ready.” Draco held up two phials. The solutions inside had returned to their former clear ruby-coloured state.

“Okay.” Harry frowned. “Which is mine?”

Draco handed him one. “I should go first.”

“What? No. Why?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “One, it’s my potion. Two, if something happens to me, someone will need to go after Weasley, and you’re the Auror. Three--” He shrugged. “There is no three.” And with a smooth movement, he tipped the phial to his mouth and drank.

Harry held out his hand in an abortive move to stop him. “You--”

Draco’s eyes went wide. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped, clutching at his stomach and doubling over, dropping the empty phial in the process. “That is...Circe and Morgana, that hurts.”

Harry tried to grab him, but Draco backed away, hand held up. “No, you can’t touch me,” he gasped. “It’ll confuse the magic. It’s...fucking hell, it’s rewriting all the cells in my body--”

Draco seemed to blur for a few moments until, with a groan, he sank to the floor and shrunk into a white ferret. The ferret lay there for a moment then raised its head, sniffing at the air.

Harry, mouth open, just stared. “Wow,” he finally whispered. “Draco?”

The ferret looked up at him.

Harry smiled. “Well I know it’s you, I saw you change, it’s just--”

The ferret chittered. It sounded like scolding.

Harry laughed. “I can’t understand you. Can you turn back?”

The ferret blurred again and became Draco, who looked a lot better than when he’d been transforming. He rose to his full height and stretched. “Salazar. That was a weird sensation.”

“Are you okay?”

Draco hesitated as if taking stock. “Yes,” he finally said. “I think so. I mean, I ache a bit, but I feel all right.”

Harry grinned. “You did it!”

Draco smiled. “I did, didn’t I?”

Harry reached for him, stopping just before he touched him. “Are we allowed to touch now?”

Draco’s smile morphed into a leer. “Oh, I think so,” he purred.

Laughing, Harry pulled him close, first kissing and then hugging him. “Do you think you can you control it?” he asked once he’d pulled away.

In reply, Draco once again shrunk into a ferret without apparent pain or difficulty. When Harry bent down and extended his hand, Draco scampered up it, settling on his shoulder and chittering in his ear.

“Do you think I should I take my potion now?” Harry asked.

The ferret ran down him, and when he was once again on the floor, transformed. “I don’t know,” Draco said when he could speak. “If it works, great, but if it doesn’t--”

“I’m out of commission.” Sighing, Harry slipped the phial into his pocket. “Maybe we should try to find Ron first. It’s getting late and the longer we go without finding him the harder it’ll be.”

“True.” Draco exhaled. “Lead on.”

Clasping his arm, Harry propelled him towards the door. When thy got to the Atrium. Draco said, “You do realise we can’t just go storming in there, right? We need a plan.”

“We have a plan,” said Harry.

“We do?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “Care to share?”

Harry’s smile was sharp. “We sneak in there.”

Draco shook his head as Harry dragged him into the Floo. “Salazar help us.”

They emerged in the alley behind the Wheezes. Harry walked up to the back door and opened it with a flick of his wand. At Draco’s inquiring look, he said, “I’m part owner. It gives me...special privileges.”

Walking through a large storeroom packed to the roof with boxes and crates, they emerged in the back behind a curtain. George was there, poring over some parchments, and Parkinson was stacking in the corner. They both looked up, Parkinson blinking and George raising his eyebrow when he saw them. “Harry?” He did a double take when he saw Draco. “Malfoy? What--?”

“Hey, George.” Harry put a finger over his lips. “We’re sneaking into Diagon.”

“Okay--” George nodded. “It’s late, all the shops are closed.”

“We know.”

“Just checking.” George smirked. “So where are you trying to go?”

“The Magical Menagerie.”

George stood. “And I’m guessing that since you’re secretly entering through here in the middle of the night, you’d rather not be seen going there?”

Harry smiled. “I always knew you were smart.”

George nodded. “This way.” He looked at Parkinson. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Parkinson nodded, staring at Draco for along moment before turning away.

George led them back through the storage room towards a corner. There, he bent down and pulled on a ring in the floor. It opened to reveal what looked like a cellar. “When Fred and I first got this place it was at the start of the war. We thought it’d be a good idea to have a quick escape route available just in case.”

“Clever,” said Draco.

“Yeah, we thought so,” said George. “Anyway, it takes you a few shops down in Diagon. You should come out just beside Gringotts.”

Harry grinned. “Which is only one shop away from the Magical Menagerie.”

“Exactly.” George eyed Draco. “So where’s Ronnie?”

Harry sighed. “Not sure. I think he’s being held at the Menagerie. Which is why--”

“Why you’re sneaking in.” George pursed his lips. “Shouldn’t there be more of you if this is a raid?”

“It’s not a raid, exactly--” Harry hesitated and George held up his hand.

“It’s fine, I trust you. Good luck, mate.”

The cellar was dusty and dank, and as soon as George closed the trap door behind them they had to light their way using their wands. As they moved towards the exit, Harry said, “I should go in first. There’s always the chance I’ll be able to talk my way out. If she finds you there--”

“I’ll be in trouble,” Draco replied.

“Exactly.”

As George had predicted, they emerged in the alley next to Gringotts. They quietly moved in behind the Menagerie, and as they crouched down, eyeing the back door, Harry whispered, “If I’m not back in an hour, call in the cavalry.”

Draco snorted softly. “Not a chance.”

Harry groaned. “I thought we agreed--”

“No. We agreed that you’d go in first, but I’m going in, too.” Draco inclined his head. “Plus, I do have other options now.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m an Auror! You’re a researcher.”

“Oh, please.” Leaning in, Draco nipped at Harry’s mouth, sliding his arms around him and pulling him close. “I’m more combat ready than many Aurors.”

Harry sighed into the kiss. Much as it galled him to admit it, Draco was correct. “Fine,” he said as he pulled away. “But be careful!”

“I’m always careful.” Draco blurred and became a ferret once more. Harry watched him scurry around the side of the building and disappear into the shadows.

Shaking his head, Harry stood, edging around until he was by the door. A quick unlocking charm had it open and he slipped inside.

There were cages and crates everywhere, and as Harry proceeded, he could hear voices. As he drew closer, he heard what they were saying. “...do with him?”

“What we always do. Obliviate him,” came a male voice.

“But he’s seen us! And aren’t Aurors trained to resist memory charms?”

“Fine, then we’ll kill him and dump his body.”

“He’s an Auror. If he was just some street beggar, we could get away with it, but--”

“Then I don’t know, Aunt Millie.” There was a scraping noise. “All I know is that we have to find a way to shut him up.”

“Can you tell if he has Animagus potential?”

Harry frowned, recognising Madam Nelson’s voice.

“I’m not sure, he surprised me, so I just hexed first. Why?”

“Well, if he does, we could make him transform, Obliviate and use him like we did the others, and then sell him in another country. You know, the same way we did with that stuck-up bitch, Narcissa Malfoy.”

Harry went still, hoping Draco hadn’t heard that. Starting to back away, he misjudged and fell against a cage, rattling it. Shit! Drawing his wand, Harry cast a quick succession of illusion spells, hoping they would conceal him.

“What was that?” Madam Nelson asked.

“In a shop full of animals?” The male snorted. “What do you think it was?”

“Still, go and check that no one else is here.”

“Bloody hell. All right--”

Crouching down, Harry waited, holding his breath.

A thin, weedy-looking man stuck his head through the door. “Lumos!” Looking around, his gaze went right over Harry as he scanned the room. “There’s no one here,” he said. “Told you.”

There were footsteps and Madam Nelson’s face appeared. Frowning, she, too, looked around. “Honestly, Tom. Did you cast Homenum Revelio to double check?” She rolled her eyes. “There are days I don’t believe you’re my nephew.”

Harry’s eyes widened. I have to get out of here, get some backup. Slowly, he edged away, which was hard to do while crouched low to the floor. He kept his wand out and pointed at them in the event he had to defend himself.

A crash sounded behind Madam Nelson and she and Tom whirled. Harry took advantage of their distraction to stand and rapidly back away.

“Something’s going on,” said Madam Nelson. “Someone’s here. Homenum Revelio!”

Immediately, Harry’s illusion charm was lifted. He shot a Stunner at Tom, who managed to dodge it.

“Oh no you don’t!” shouted Madam Nelson, waving her wand. A moment later something came crashing down on Harry’s head and darkness overtook him.

Moaning, Harry woke, finding himself in a dark room. “Ugh,” he groaned. His head was throbbing, and when he went to try to reach towards it, he discovered his hands were tied. “Damn,” he sighed.

“Harry?” someone whispered. “Is that you?”

Harry frowned. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Harry. Ron!”

“Ron?” Harry exhaled. “I found you? Thank Merlin!” He frowned. “Are you tied up?”

“Yes.” Ron groaned. “I guess you are, too?”

“Yep.” Harry sighed. “What happened to you, anyway? How’d you end up here? I thought we discussed not coming back until we had proof and backup?”

“I wasn’t going to come in,” said Ron. “But I while I was on my way to see Pansy, I saw some activity in the back of the Menagerie and I thought I’d check it out. I saw a bloke loading animals into a lorry.”

“A lorry?”

“I know!” Ron coughed. “Anyway, before I could ask him what he was doing, Madam Nelson came out and they started talking about how our investigation was getting too close and they needed to move the operation.”

“What is the operation?” Harry asked. “What are they up to?”

“Near as I can tell, they’ve been kidnapping unregistered Animagi and selling them as familiars. Although you’d think the Animagi could escape pretty easily once they’re out of here.”

“Not if they’ve been Obliviated.” A wand flared, revealing Draco standing over them. He shook his head, smirking at Harry. “I leave you alone for a minute and look what happens,” he said. “Honestly! Lumos Maxima.” After a ball of light shot from the tip of his wand to the ceiling to light the room, he freed both Harry and Ron with a few more swishes of his wand. “By the way, I did try to distract them by breaking some crates but it didn’t work, they still captured you.” He shook his head. “Clearly, Potter, you are not cut out for a life of crime.”

Harry smiled faintly. “I never claimed to be.”

“I take back almost everything I ever said about you, Malfoy.” Ron grinned, getting to his feet. He frowned. “And you mentioned the victims being Obliviated?”

Rubbing his raw wrists, Harry walked towards Draco. “That’s true, you did. What makes you say that?”

Reaching into his pocket, Draco pulled out a parchment. “I found Nelson’s real ledger. She keeps meticulous records, actually. Those others she shared with us were just for show. It gives the details of her plot.”

“It can’t be very lucrative,” said Ron. “I mean, how many unregistered Animagi are there?”

“Apparently a lot more than we know,” said Harry, perusing Draco’s list. He frowned. “And that’s not all. Look at this--”

Draco nodded. “I saw that, too.”

“What?” Ron walked over, reading over Harry’s shoulder. “Saw what?”

“Looks like Madam Nelson doesn’t just record sales. It seems they’ve been breeding the Animagi while in animal form, too.”

“What? Why?” asked Ron.

“Apparently to make more magical animals since there’s such a shortage.” Harry shook his head.

“Bloody hell,” whispered Ron. “What a mess.” He looked at Draco. “Hey, how did you get in here, anyway? I didn’t hear the door and I know there’s an Anti-Apparation Charm up since I tried to Apparate out earlier.”

Draco smirked. “Some of us have skills, Weasley.”

Ron huffed. “You really are a git--”

While they started bickered, Harry walked towards the door. “Enough, you two,” he said after some poking around. “I’ve been wondering why they left us alive and I think I know. We’re trapped and we need to figure a way out.” He patted his pockets. “And they took my wand and the potion!”

“Well, your wand, maybe,” said Draco, holding up a phial full of red liquid.

Harry gaped at him. “How--?”

Draco hummed. “I knew you’d get caught, so I picked it from your pocket while we were snog--” he glanced at Ron, “--discussing how to get in earlier.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed and he looked back and forth between them. “Bloody hell,” he said after a long pause. “No. Oh, no.”

Harry coughed. “Ron--”

“You and Malfoy?! How long have I been in here?” Ron pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fucking hell.”

“You and Parkinson,” Harry reminded him. “Now focus! We need to get out.” He turned towards Draco. “How did you get in?”

“As a ferret, of course,” said Draco. “And that was tough enough, even in a form that small. This room is pretty tightly sealed.”

“You mean the potion worked?” Slowly, Ron smiled. “Brilliant! Just slip back out and open the door, then, Malfoy.”

“You don’t think I would have done that already if it was so easy?” Draco snapped. “It’s magically locked and warded. I tried every unlocking spell I know, and trust me, that’s a lot of them. It’s not budging.” He looked at Harry. “I think it will require the two of us working on it from the outside to open.”

Harry exhaled. “Well,” he said, eyeing the phial in his hand. “I guess I know what I have to do, then.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “No--”

Undoing the stopper, Harry tipped the phial to his lips, swallowing it in one gulp. It tasted as vile as he’d expected, given its components, and he shuddered. The phial slipped from his hand and Draco caught it.

“Oh God,” Harry gasped, clutching his stomach. His every muscle was spasming, his body remaking itself. It was painful, and Harry clenched his eyes shut, trying to breathe through the agony.

A loud buzzing filled his ears and he doubled over. Then, the pain was gone. Harry raised his head, looking around. He was low to the ground, the room looked huge, and-- He blinked. Ron was staring down at him. “Oh my God, Harry. You’re a sodding ferret!”

Am I? Harry thought. He sighed. Of course I am.

Beside him appeared a white ferret and Harry looked over at him. “Draco?”

“Who else?” Draco snapped. “Are you all right?”

“Think so.” Harry sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

Draco sniffed, too. “Salazar. Fire!”

“We have to get Ron out.”

“Follow me!” Draco turned, starting for the wall.

Harry, right behind him, took a moment to admire his legs and furry arse as he scuttled along in front of him. He grinned to himself. I’m hopeless!

There was a tiny crack in the wall that at first glance Harry wouldn’t have thought anything could fit through. Draco, however, managed to make it look easy, and Harry, after only a small hesitation, slipped through it as well. Ferrets, he was discovering, were very flexible.

After a few harrowing moments they emerged on the other side. It was considerably warmer there and Harry could see distant flames licking at the walls. Once free of the wall, Draco morphed back into himself, and Harry, after a brief moment of concentration, did the same. “Wow,” he said.

“It is fun, isn’t it?” Draco grinned at him. “Right, how’s your wandless magic when sex isn’t involved?”

Harry grinned back. “I guess you’re about to find out.”

Draco pointed his wand at the door, Harry beside him with his arms out, hands spread. “Ready?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded.

“Bombarda Maxima!” they shouted simultaneously.

The door buckled, flying inward. Ron, crouched in the corner, came out. “Well,” he said, stepping through the ragged hole in the wall where the door had been. “That was...interesting.”

Harry turned to look at the fire. “We need to get out of here and we need to call someone in to subdue that fire.”

Ron coughed. “Is it--?” He glanced at Draco.

“No,” said Draco softly. “It’s not Fiendfyre. I’d recognise that anywhere.” He sighed when Harry clasped his shoulder, his posture relaxing slightly. “But it’s still dangerous enough. Let’s go.”

“Um, Harry,” said Ron as they all started for the main door.

“Yeah?”

“Did you know that you have a lightning bolt scar as a ferret, too?”

Harry blinked at him, almost tripping over a box. “I do?”

“You do.” Ron hummed. “And I guess you’ll be registering your Animagus form?” He grinned. “I can’t wait to see people’s reactions when they realise you and Malfoy are a matched pair.”

Harry froze mid step. “Well, fuck.”

“Is there some reason you two are lingering in here?” Draco snapped at them from the door. “In case it skipped your notice, there’s a sodding fire!”

They hurried out, clearing the building just in time to see it consumed in flames. Ron sighed. “And now we have to track down Madam Nelson. How the hell are we going to do that?”

“You could just try looking,” came a voice.

Harry’s mouth dropped open as Pansy Parkinson emerged from the shadows, two bodies floating behind her. Behind her was parked the lorry Ron had mentioned earlier. “Parkinson? What in the hell--?”

Draco smirked. “You didn’t think I came without backup, did you?” He nodded at Pansy. “She’s an Unspeakable, too, and we’ve been looking into this case for a while.”

“Sorry, Ron,” said Parkinson. “But I needed an inconspicuous job close to the scene, and the Wheezes fit the bill.”

Ron was gaping at her. “But...but--”

“Hey, look at it this way, mate,” said Harry. “At least now you don’t have to wait until after hours to see her. She really works in the Ministry.”

Draco strode towards Parkinson. “Did you--?”

Her gaze softened as she looked at him. “Yes, I managed to extract Narcissa’s location.” She smiled, and it was feral. “They were quite eager to cooperate after I explained exactly what I was prepared to do to get the information.” Reaching into a pocket, she handed him a parchment. “But, Draco, you should--”

Draco disappeared.

Parkinson huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Where is he?” Harry cried. “Where did he go?”

Parkinson inclined her head. “Luckily, I made a copy,” she said, handing him another parchment. “He went to get his mother. He could probably use some backup.” Reaching into her robes, she pulled out Harry’s wand. “Oh, and I think you’ll need this.”

“Thank you.” Harry nodded at her. Then, turning, he said to Ron, “Can you handle this one, mate? I have to go.”

Ron, after scanning the scene and eyeing Madam Nelson, her nephew, the lorry full of animals, and the fire, sighed. “I suppose I do owe you.”

Harry exhaled. “I’ll be back, I promise, and I won’t stick you with the entire report, I just have to--”

Ron waved him off. “Go on. Pansy and I can handle this.”

Parkinson snorted. “Don’t you think I’m writing your report for you, Weasley.”

Ron smiled, sidling closer to her. “Not even if I ask nicely?”

Parkinson hummed. “I suppose it depends on how nicely you were planning on asking.”

Shaking his head at the flirting, Harry looked down at the parchment, read the coordinates and, concentrating, Apparated. He landed just outside the gates of what looked like a large villa, and turning in a circle, tried to figure out what direction Draco could have gone.

Just then, in the distance, there was a reverberation. Harry grinned, turning towards the noise. Within moments he saw Draco and a confused-looking Narcissa Malfoy approaching at speed. Behind them was an irate man, waving his arms and screaming. As soon as Draco spotted Harry, he changed directions.

“Go!” cried Draco when he was closer. “There’s an Anti-Apparation field up. We can’t leave until we’re outside the gates!”

Nodding, Harry drew his wand and prepared. As soon as Draco and Narcissa were close enough, he grabbed Draco and concentrated. The squeeze of Apparation was almost unbearable.

They appeared with a pop in Diagon Alley, startling Ron and Parkinson, who were snogging. They sprang apart, pointing wands at them. “Oh, it’s only you,” said Parkinson, rolling her eyes and holstering her wand.

Ron’s eyes widened when he saw Narcissa. “You found her.”

“I didn’t do anything,” said Harry. “Draco did all the work.” He looked around. “Where are Nelson and Tom and the animals?”

“The Ministry,” Ron said. “You just missed the Aurors.” He coughed. “Pansy and I were just...clearing the scene.”

“Yes, so we could see,” said Draco, tone dry. With his arm still around Narcissa, he turned to Harry. “I need to take Mother to hospital. Will you--?”

Harry nodded. “I’ll see you there in a bit. There’s a bit of paperwork to do first.” He glanced at Narcissa, who seemed a bit dazed. “Is she--?”

“She remembered me,” Draco said. “But not much else.” He sighed. “Maybe that’s a blessing.”

Harry leaned in, pressing his lips to Draco’s. “Go on. I’ll meet you in a bit.”

Narcissa tilted her head. “Are you my son’s boyfriend?”

Harry smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I am.”

By the time they finished the paperwork about a week later, Narcissa was out of the hospital, the kidnapping victims had all been reunited with their families, Draco and Parkinson had been promoted, and Harry and Ron had been given five other Aurors to help staff their new missing persons division. The only person who wasn’t happy was George, who was miffed that he’d lost his best stocking assistant in years.

Leaning back in his chair, Harry eyed the paperwork he was supposed to file to register as an Animagus. He knew what he should do and yet-- He smiled. Draco’s rubbing off on me. His smile deepened. Yes, there certainly was a lot of rubbing going on.

That was how Draco found him a few minutes later when he walked in. “What are you so happy about?” he asked.

“Oh, you know. Life.” Harry hummed. “I was just thinking about taking an early lunch. Maybe heading home.”

Smirking, Draco moved around his desk, sliding into Harry’s lap. “Or we could stay here,” he purred. “Have a private lunch.” Glancing down at the paperwork on Harry’s desk, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to fill that out, are you? After all, your father wasn’t registered. Nor is my mother.”

“And neither are you.” Harry looped his arms around Draco’s neck. “You don’t think I should?”

“Definitely not.” Draco leaned in. “I think some things should remain...in the family, so to speak.”

Harry licked his lips. “I might feel guilty, though.”

“Oh, I can help you deal with your guilt in a much more enjoyable way,” murmured Draco, starting to undress Harry. “Trust me.”

Harry laughed. “I do,” he said, dragging Draco down to kiss him. “I definitely do.”

~

Fin