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sesheta66Title: No Home for the Holidays - Part 10
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2320
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Summary: Draco finds out who is accused of his mother's murder.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
awdt's Valentine Quickies: #3 - secret admirer and slythindor100's Challenge: #100 - one hundred anything.
Click here to start at the beginning.
No Home for the Holidays - Part 10
Harry followed McGonagall reluctantly to the Great Hall. She was saying something, but his mind was elsewhere. He wanted to be there when Draco opened the letter. He told himself that it was to give Draco his support, but he knew his curiosity played an equal part in his desire to be present. And maybe, just maybe, he'd like people at the Ministry to know that he was very interested in the outcome of this case.
"Mr Potter!"
"Sorry. What did you say?"
Her exasperated look quickly gave way to one of amusement. "I have noticed that you and Mr Malfoy have become … friends over the holidays."
Harry thought about Draco and how much his friendship had come to mean to Harry in such a short time. Then he recalled how soft those lips were, how delicious he tasted. He shook those thoughts free and turned to the Headmistress. "Yes we have," he agreed. "As strange as that is, given our past." Though not nearly as difficult for people to accept as what Harry would like them to be.
"Not so strange," she said with a smile. "You may not believe this, but Professor Dumbledore often said that, had circumstances been different, the two of you could have made quite a formidable team."
Harry thought about that for a while. His current attraction -- their mutual attraction -- aside, Harry could see that. His old Headmaster was a strange one, that's for sure, who always pursued the unconventional path. But Harry had to admit, more often than not, more often than most, Dumbledore was right.
"Yeah," he said, smiling up at the Headmistress. "I can see that."
~*~*~
Draco sat in his common room for quite some time, simply holding the parchment in his hands, unopened. His hands were moist and his stomach was swirling with apprehension. Finally, when the tray of food arrived, he broke open the seal to read the letter.
Draco stared at the letter, the name a shock to him. It was a witch. He'd assumed it had been a wizard that killed his mother. Of course, that was silly. Just look at his crazy Aunt Bellatrix. She'd killed more than most wizards, even Death Eaters, hadn't she?
But this was different. This witch wasn't a Death Eater, no matter what her husband had been. In fact, she was someone Draco had known most of his life. Someone who had always told him his was like family.
Anger boiled inside as he realised that his mother would have trusted her, would never have questioned her approach, would have let down her guard.
He sat staring at the page long after his food had gone cold. Could the Ministry be wrong? Could this be a set-up? As much as Draco would like to believe that, the more he considered it, the more sense it made. Narcissa would only have relaxed her own defences around someone she trusted.
Eventually, Draco decided to hear what this witch had to say. The letter indicated that he would have an opportunity to see her. Draco ate his meal and tried to formulate a plan. How would he get her to talk, if she hadn't already? And would they even let him try?
~*~*~
Harry, patience not being a virtue of his, gave up waiting about an hour after he'd finished dinner. He was going to go mad waiting for Draco to come to him. As he rounded the corner to the dungeons, he ran -- quite literally -- into Draco.
His instinctive reaction had been to grab hold of Draco's shoulders, to ensure he didn't fall. Only Harry hadn't let go. He was, instead, staring into Draco's eyes, transfixed. Harry took in the obvious desire, mixed with something else: pain, need? He couldn't be sure. He just pulled Draco into his arms and held him there. Draco's body heaved a sigh of relief, and his arms came around Harry to pull him closer.
"You okay?" Harry asked.
"No," Draco said. "But I will be."
They stood like that for some time before Draco pulled away. Harry wanted to hold him forever, keep him close, never let him go. More than that, Harry wanted to kiss him again, feel those lips on his own, his body pressed against Harry's in more than comfort. And Harry wanted more. Much more. Despite his desire to keep Draco from suffering at the hands of the media, Harry's desire for Draco was stronger, and was wearing down his resolve. But he let go, reluctantly. This was not the time.
"I'm glad I found you," Harry said.
Draco raised an eyebrow, then looked around at the corridor they were in. "And here I thought I had hidden myself beyond discovery." He let out a dramatic sigh. "All my stealth training during the war has nothing on your detective skills, Potter."
"Ha ha," Harry replied, glad to see that Draco hadn't lost his snark. "Very funny. It's just --"
"-- that you're impatient and want to know what the Minister said in his letter."
Harry nodded. There was no point denying it. "Did they tell you who's in custody?"
"Yeah." That look of hurt washed over Draco briefly again. He turned back towards his common room. "I'd rather not talk out here."
Harry followed him into Slytherin and Draco handed him the letter. Harry read it, then looked up at Draco. "Is this --?"
"Crabbe's mother, yes."
Shit. No wonder he looked upset. "Do you think she could be guilty?"
"I don't know. It's hard to process. I mean, I spent holidays at their house. Our families had been friendly for years. We attended Vincent's funeral, and then his dad's. Hardly anyone else showed up. She said she was grateful for our support, no matter what else had happened. She had never been a supporter of Voldemort. She just happened to be the wife of someone who was." Draco's brow furrowed and he stared beyond Harry, as he seemed to absorb his own words. "Mother would have trusted her."
"And let down her guard?" Harry guessed.
Draco looked at Harry and nodded. "I want to think it's all a big mistake, but I don't know. It always struck me as odd that there was no sign of struggle, and that Mother hadn't even drawn her wand." Draco stared past Harry again for a moment before continuing. "After everything that happened, after Voldemort took over our house, she just wouldn't have let down her guard out in public like that. Not unless …"
"Unless she knew the person," Harry finished for him.
"Exactly. So, as much as I hate the thought of it, I suppose she's as likely as anyone to be guilty. More so, given her closeness with my mother."
"So are you going to see her?" He lifted the parchment. "It says that they may ask you to try talking to her."
"Yeah," he replied, sounding sad but determined. "I have to."
"I understand." Harry, of all people, knew all too well how important closure was. "Did you want me to be there?"
Draco looked at him and hesitated. "I … appreciate the offer, Harry, but … well, I think you'd do more harm than good."
Harry took a moment to process that. The Ministry obviously had evidence, but needed Draco's help. Which meant they hadn't got enough, if any, information out of her. Harry had never met the woman, but given his role in the war, she would view him as another official out to get her.
"I think you're probably right," Harry agreed.
Draco looked dumbfounded. "What?"
"I agree. I think she'd see me and say nothing."
Draco scowled.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"It's just … well, I was expecting you to fight me on this, and I'd prepared a good argument."
Harry laughed. "Save it for another time. Somehow I suspect I might be less accommodating, you know, on occasion, in the future."
"Who, you? Never!"
"Shut up, you," Harry said, nudging Draco for good measure. "Just so we're clear, I am still going to the Ministry with you. I'll just stay clear while you talk to her."
Draco smiled. "Never a doubt, Potter."
~*~*~
Draco and Harry arrived at the Ministry a little ahead of schedule, but the Minister invited them into his office right away.
"Mr Malfoy," he said, extending his hand. "I see Harry here managed to worm his way into tagging along."
Draco nodded and shook his hand. "He can be persuasive."
The Minister barked out a laugh at that remark. "That's an understatement," he replied, then turned his attention to Harry. "Be that as it may, Harry, I have to request --"
Harry cut off the Minister by raising his hand. "Relax, Kingsley. I'll stay out of it. I'm just here for moral support." The Minister gave him a sceptical look. "Really. I swear."
The Minister laughed again. "Moral support, hmm? Nothing to do with finding out about things right away? Or perhaps letting certain people know you have a personal interest in this case?"
Harry feigned injury by clutching his chest and using a line Draco had used on him once. "You wound me, Kingsley." The two of them laughed like old buddies. Which, for all Draco knew, they were. It was all very surreal.
"Why don't we get you settled, Mr Malfoy?"
Draco nodded and followed the Minister, Harry trailing behind. They made their way to what Draco presumed were the interrogation rooms.
"At first, we'd just like you to observe from here. The wall is charmed so that you can see into the room, but no one from inside can see you." He handed Draco a disc, about the size of a knut, that had a button at the centre. "Also, while you watch, if there's any information you can give us to help -- pointing out when she's lying, anything that might assist the interrogator -- press the button and talk. One of the Aurors will hear everything you say, and can respond as needed. But be sure to press the button again after you're done, or he'll hear everything that's said in this room, and it could get distracting for him."
Draco was impressed. This device was useful. He pressed it and it began to vibrate slightly. He was so surprised that he almost dropped it.
Kingsley chuckled. "That's so you know it's transmitting. The Aurors use them in the field when they're undercover. Allows us to react quickly. It also has a tracking device, if they're ever taken, so we can find them."
"But it has to be on?" Draco asked.
"Only for the audio. The tracking device is always active. Would have been very useful over the years, but it was only produced after the war, when some of our more creative staff were allowed to investigate Muggle technology and try to adapt it for our use."
"Muggle technology?" Draco asked. That was a bit of a shock.
"Indeed. Now, if we feel that we are still getting nowhere, we'll take a break, then ask you to join us. You are under no obligation. In fact, we're hoping to get what we need without you having to confront her at all."
"I want to," Draco insisted.
"Well, let's cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?"
"Is it all right if Harry observes as well?" he asked.
"I don't see why not." The Minister smiled at Harry. "Presuming he wants to."
Not surprisingly, Harry agreed.
"I'll have my assistant bring some tea for you. This may take a while."
"That would be lovely. Thank you."
The Minister left and Draco found himself looking at Harry. For some reason -- Draco was sure that Harry was that reason -- the Minister of Magic himself was going to participate in the questioning of Crabbe's mother. Draco had watched the interaction with the Minister and was floored by what he saw. Harry was … well … Harry. He was no different with the Minister of Magic than he was with Draco. And didn't that speak volumes?
Sure, Lucius had been on friendly terms with Fudge, and many senior Ministry officials over the years. Draco himself had observed his father a hundred or more times in action, and had been in awe of his power. There was nothing Lucius couldn't do. But there had always been a feeling of formality in the air. The body language had always projected a sense of being on one's guard, each wary of the other, and anticipating their next move.
The familiarity between Harry and the Minister was of friends, of two people that trusted and respected each other. And Harry was only eighteen years old. Talk about power! As Draco observed Harry's relaxed posture, he realised just how sexy that was. No wonder he had so many admirers -- secret or otherwise. And he wanted Draco. Fuck.
"You okay?" Harry asked, breaking through Draco's thoughts. He looked worried, and gave Draco's thigh a squeeze. "I'm sure you'll do fine. And you won't have to confront her if you don't want to. Remember that."
Draco could feel the blood rush to his face. He cleared his throat. "I'm fine." Harry's concern wasn't helping, and his touch was only making Draco's thoughts race more. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to focus on what was about to happen on the other side of the glass.
McGonagall in a bikini … Filch in a corset … Hagrid in a thong. McGonagall, Filch and Hagrid together. That did it.
Draco smiled awkwardly as the Minister's assistant brought the tray of tea and biscuits to them and Harry thankfully removed his hand. Draco ignored how cold his leg suddenly felt in its absence.
Draco helped himself to a cup and avoided looking at Harry. This was going to be a long morning.
Part 11
Author:
sesheta_66 Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2320
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Summary: Draco finds out who is accused of his mother's murder.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges:
awdt's Valentine Quickies: #3 - secret admirer and slythindor100's Challenge: #100 - one hundred anything.Click here to start at the beginning.
Harry followed McGonagall reluctantly to the Great Hall. She was saying something, but his mind was elsewhere. He wanted to be there when Draco opened the letter. He told himself that it was to give Draco his support, but he knew his curiosity played an equal part in his desire to be present. And maybe, just maybe, he'd like people at the Ministry to know that he was very interested in the outcome of this case.
"Mr Potter!"
"Sorry. What did you say?"
Her exasperated look quickly gave way to one of amusement. "I have noticed that you and Mr Malfoy have become … friends over the holidays."
Harry thought about Draco and how much his friendship had come to mean to Harry in such a short time. Then he recalled how soft those lips were, how delicious he tasted. He shook those thoughts free and turned to the Headmistress. "Yes we have," he agreed. "As strange as that is, given our past." Though not nearly as difficult for people to accept as what Harry would like them to be.
"Not so strange," she said with a smile. "You may not believe this, but Professor Dumbledore often said that, had circumstances been different, the two of you could have made quite a formidable team."
Harry thought about that for a while. His current attraction -- their mutual attraction -- aside, Harry could see that. His old Headmaster was a strange one, that's for sure, who always pursued the unconventional path. But Harry had to admit, more often than not, more often than most, Dumbledore was right.
"Yeah," he said, smiling up at the Headmistress. "I can see that."
Draco sat in his common room for quite some time, simply holding the parchment in his hands, unopened. His hands were moist and his stomach was swirling with apprehension. Finally, when the tray of food arrived, he broke open the seal to read the letter.
Draco stared at the letter, the name a shock to him. It was a witch. He'd assumed it had been a wizard that killed his mother. Of course, that was silly. Just look at his crazy Aunt Bellatrix. She'd killed more than most wizards, even Death Eaters, hadn't she?
But this was different. This witch wasn't a Death Eater, no matter what her husband had been. In fact, she was someone Draco had known most of his life. Someone who had always told him his was like family.
Anger boiled inside as he realised that his mother would have trusted her, would never have questioned her approach, would have let down her guard.
He sat staring at the page long after his food had gone cold. Could the Ministry be wrong? Could this be a set-up? As much as Draco would like to believe that, the more he considered it, the more sense it made. Narcissa would only have relaxed her own defences around someone she trusted.
Eventually, Draco decided to hear what this witch had to say. The letter indicated that he would have an opportunity to see her. Draco ate his meal and tried to formulate a plan. How would he get her to talk, if she hadn't already? And would they even let him try?
Harry, patience not being a virtue of his, gave up waiting about an hour after he'd finished dinner. He was going to go mad waiting for Draco to come to him. As he rounded the corner to the dungeons, he ran -- quite literally -- into Draco.
His instinctive reaction had been to grab hold of Draco's shoulders, to ensure he didn't fall. Only Harry hadn't let go. He was, instead, staring into Draco's eyes, transfixed. Harry took in the obvious desire, mixed with something else: pain, need? He couldn't be sure. He just pulled Draco into his arms and held him there. Draco's body heaved a sigh of relief, and his arms came around Harry to pull him closer.
"You okay?" Harry asked.
"No," Draco said. "But I will be."
They stood like that for some time before Draco pulled away. Harry wanted to hold him forever, keep him close, never let him go. More than that, Harry wanted to kiss him again, feel those lips on his own, his body pressed against Harry's in more than comfort. And Harry wanted more. Much more. Despite his desire to keep Draco from suffering at the hands of the media, Harry's desire for Draco was stronger, and was wearing down his resolve. But he let go, reluctantly. This was not the time.
"I'm glad I found you," Harry said.
Draco raised an eyebrow, then looked around at the corridor they were in. "And here I thought I had hidden myself beyond discovery." He let out a dramatic sigh. "All my stealth training during the war has nothing on your detective skills, Potter."
"Ha ha," Harry replied, glad to see that Draco hadn't lost his snark. "Very funny. It's just --"
"-- that you're impatient and want to know what the Minister said in his letter."
Harry nodded. There was no point denying it. "Did they tell you who's in custody?"
"Yeah." That look of hurt washed over Draco briefly again. He turned back towards his common room. "I'd rather not talk out here."
Harry followed him into Slytherin and Draco handed him the letter. Harry read it, then looked up at Draco. "Is this --?"
"Crabbe's mother, yes."
Shit. No wonder he looked upset. "Do you think she could be guilty?"
"I don't know. It's hard to process. I mean, I spent holidays at their house. Our families had been friendly for years. We attended Vincent's funeral, and then his dad's. Hardly anyone else showed up. She said she was grateful for our support, no matter what else had happened. She had never been a supporter of Voldemort. She just happened to be the wife of someone who was." Draco's brow furrowed and he stared beyond Harry, as he seemed to absorb his own words. "Mother would have trusted her."
"And let down her guard?" Harry guessed.
Draco looked at Harry and nodded. "I want to think it's all a big mistake, but I don't know. It always struck me as odd that there was no sign of struggle, and that Mother hadn't even drawn her wand." Draco stared past Harry again for a moment before continuing. "After everything that happened, after Voldemort took over our house, she just wouldn't have let down her guard out in public like that. Not unless …"
"Unless she knew the person," Harry finished for him.
"Exactly. So, as much as I hate the thought of it, I suppose she's as likely as anyone to be guilty. More so, given her closeness with my mother."
"So are you going to see her?" He lifted the parchment. "It says that they may ask you to try talking to her."
"Yeah," he replied, sounding sad but determined. "I have to."
"I understand." Harry, of all people, knew all too well how important closure was. "Did you want me to be there?"
Draco looked at him and hesitated. "I … appreciate the offer, Harry, but … well, I think you'd do more harm than good."
Harry took a moment to process that. The Ministry obviously had evidence, but needed Draco's help. Which meant they hadn't got enough, if any, information out of her. Harry had never met the woman, but given his role in the war, she would view him as another official out to get her.
"I think you're probably right," Harry agreed.
Draco looked dumbfounded. "What?"
"I agree. I think she'd see me and say nothing."
Draco scowled.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"It's just … well, I was expecting you to fight me on this, and I'd prepared a good argument."
Harry laughed. "Save it for another time. Somehow I suspect I might be less accommodating, you know, on occasion, in the future."
"Who, you? Never!"
"Shut up, you," Harry said, nudging Draco for good measure. "Just so we're clear, I am still going to the Ministry with you. I'll just stay clear while you talk to her."
Draco smiled. "Never a doubt, Potter."
Draco and Harry arrived at the Ministry a little ahead of schedule, but the Minister invited them into his office right away.
"Mr Malfoy," he said, extending his hand. "I see Harry here managed to worm his way into tagging along."
Draco nodded and shook his hand. "He can be persuasive."
The Minister barked out a laugh at that remark. "That's an understatement," he replied, then turned his attention to Harry. "Be that as it may, Harry, I have to request --"
Harry cut off the Minister by raising his hand. "Relax, Kingsley. I'll stay out of it. I'm just here for moral support." The Minister gave him a sceptical look. "Really. I swear."
The Minister laughed again. "Moral support, hmm? Nothing to do with finding out about things right away? Or perhaps letting certain people know you have a personal interest in this case?"
Harry feigned injury by clutching his chest and using a line Draco had used on him once. "You wound me, Kingsley." The two of them laughed like old buddies. Which, for all Draco knew, they were. It was all very surreal.
"Why don't we get you settled, Mr Malfoy?"
Draco nodded and followed the Minister, Harry trailing behind. They made their way to what Draco presumed were the interrogation rooms.
"At first, we'd just like you to observe from here. The wall is charmed so that you can see into the room, but no one from inside can see you." He handed Draco a disc, about the size of a knut, that had a button at the centre. "Also, while you watch, if there's any information you can give us to help -- pointing out when she's lying, anything that might assist the interrogator -- press the button and talk. One of the Aurors will hear everything you say, and can respond as needed. But be sure to press the button again after you're done, or he'll hear everything that's said in this room, and it could get distracting for him."
Draco was impressed. This device was useful. He pressed it and it began to vibrate slightly. He was so surprised that he almost dropped it.
Kingsley chuckled. "That's so you know it's transmitting. The Aurors use them in the field when they're undercover. Allows us to react quickly. It also has a tracking device, if they're ever taken, so we can find them."
"But it has to be on?" Draco asked.
"Only for the audio. The tracking device is always active. Would have been very useful over the years, but it was only produced after the war, when some of our more creative staff were allowed to investigate Muggle technology and try to adapt it for our use."
"Muggle technology?" Draco asked. That was a bit of a shock.
"Indeed. Now, if we feel that we are still getting nowhere, we'll take a break, then ask you to join us. You are under no obligation. In fact, we're hoping to get what we need without you having to confront her at all."
"I want to," Draco insisted.
"Well, let's cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?"
"Is it all right if Harry observes as well?" he asked.
"I don't see why not." The Minister smiled at Harry. "Presuming he wants to."
Not surprisingly, Harry agreed.
"I'll have my assistant bring some tea for you. This may take a while."
"That would be lovely. Thank you."
The Minister left and Draco found himself looking at Harry. For some reason -- Draco was sure that Harry was that reason -- the Minister of Magic himself was going to participate in the questioning of Crabbe's mother. Draco had watched the interaction with the Minister and was floored by what he saw. Harry was … well … Harry. He was no different with the Minister of Magic than he was with Draco. And didn't that speak volumes?
Sure, Lucius had been on friendly terms with Fudge, and many senior Ministry officials over the years. Draco himself had observed his father a hundred or more times in action, and had been in awe of his power. There was nothing Lucius couldn't do. But there had always been a feeling of formality in the air. The body language had always projected a sense of being on one's guard, each wary of the other, and anticipating their next move.
The familiarity between Harry and the Minister was of friends, of two people that trusted and respected each other. And Harry was only eighteen years old. Talk about power! As Draco observed Harry's relaxed posture, he realised just how sexy that was. No wonder he had so many admirers -- secret or otherwise. And he wanted Draco. Fuck.
"You okay?" Harry asked, breaking through Draco's thoughts. He looked worried, and gave Draco's thigh a squeeze. "I'm sure you'll do fine. And you won't have to confront her if you don't want to. Remember that."
Draco could feel the blood rush to his face. He cleared his throat. "I'm fine." Harry's concern wasn't helping, and his touch was only making Draco's thoughts race more. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to focus on what was about to happen on the other side of the glass.
McGonagall in a bikini … Filch in a corset … Hagrid in a thong. McGonagall, Filch and Hagrid together. That did it.
Draco smiled awkwardly as the Minister's assistant brought the tray of tea and biscuits to them and Harry thankfully removed his hand. Draco ignored how cold his leg suddenly felt in its absence.
Draco helped himself to a cup and avoided looking at Harry. This was going to be a long morning.
Part 11
