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Under Heaven	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2344 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Under Heaven
- 1
Title: Under Heaven
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Established Harry/Draco
Warnings: Fluff, brief angst, brief violence.
Rating: R
Wordcount: 3800
Summary: Draco dislikes the cold, he dislikes Harry's enjoyment of it, he hates everything about this mission until he sees the Northern Lights
Author's Notes: A late Advent fic for dragontara, who asked for Aurora Borealis, cold. Harry and Draco have been sent on a mission to north. Harry loves the cold weather, Draco hates it until he sees the Northern Lights. Happy turn of the year!
Under Heaven
            Draco stamped his feet and blew on his hands. He knew that dragonhide gloves already covered his hands and that the charms Harry had cast were enough to hold back the winds sweeping around them. He didn't care. This fucking tundra. This fucking weather.
            This fucking winter.
            "Over here!" Harry called, and it would have been one thing if he had sounded serious and respectful of Draco's hatred of the place. It wouldn't have been everything, but it would have been something.
            But instead, Harry sounded as though he had laughter in the back of his voice. Draco dropped his hands and stalked towards Harry, fixing a scowl on his face. He was going to scowl until Harry got the idea.
            Unluckily, Harry didn't seem to be engaged in paying attention to him. He was crouched over a melted spot of snow that revealed bare brown earth and black soil beneath it. Draco glared. He knew the soil would be frozen, and if it melted further, it would just turn soggy anyway. A few of Draco's fellow Aurors who had been this far north before had told him he was lucky to be going in winter, because he might have to splash through puddles if it was warmer.
            Draco had cursed them with a few Itching Charms so that they wouldn't get the idea to laugh at him again. He was sorry he wouldn't be there to see them take effect.
            "I think this is a place where the Burner was," said Harry, and waved his wand and muttered under his breath. The circle of melted snow lit up, and Harry smiled in satisfaction. "Yes. See? There's been magic used recently here, powerful magic." He looked up at Draco, and bit his lip.
            Draco folded his arms and scowled at him. "Yes, laugh at my suffering."
            "I'm sorry," Harry said in a strangled voice. "Honestly, I am. But you knew we were coming here, and you still look like a cat someone plunked in the bathtub."
            "At least I don't groom myself with my tongue," Draco snapped, and shivered. He crouched down beside the melted snow in some faint hope that warmth would linger there. Nothing did, of course. That would be too much to hope for, and this landscape was all about foiling Draco's hopes. "What's the good of having an enemy called the Burner if he can't leave any heat behind?"
            Harry raised an eyebrow. "He's called the Burner because he has a habit of burning out his victims' magical cores--"
            "I know. You need to learn how to recognize rhetorical questions." Draco waved an impatient hand at him. "He's dangerous. And a nutter." Anyone who would run here was, Draco considered, but especially someone who thought there was a single powerful wizard somewhere up here who spent time casting magic that manifested as the darkness in winter. The Burner had come north to drain that imaginary wizard's magical core.
            "Yes, he is," said Harry, and rose fluidly to his feet, looking out over the snow as though he could see through the drifts to what was hidden behind them. Maybe he could, for all Draco knew. "But we still need to find him."
            Draco sighed, a disgruntled sigh that he made sure Harry heard, and followed him. "You promise that we can go and rest somewhere warm when this is done?" he muttered.
            He heard Harry's smile in his voice, which was still annoying, but at least wasn't as bad as the laughter. "I'll set up the tent early tonight."
            Draco shook his head. He supposed it would have to do.
*
            Draco snuggled into the center of the tent, which was small, but enlarged with wizardspace, and tried to curl up into a perfect ball so that all parts of his body were the same distance from the cold flaps and sides. Harry might say it was already warm, that the charms used on the cloth and the fire blazing in the brazier even made it stifling, but he wasn't the one who suffered from the cold, was he?
            Harry stepped through the flap, making Draco hiss as yet another wind whirled in behind him, and a snowflake fell on the floor, Transfigured from cloth into wood. Draco stared at it pointedly, thinking it was taking an abnormally long time to melt, but Harry didn't notice. He shook himself and stretched his arms over his head, then grinned.
            "Brisk out there," he said.
            "Brisk," said Draco, and thought that he managed a credible degree of poison in that single word, at least comparable to the way he would have sounded when he and Harry were still enemies.
            "Yes," said Harry, and dropped down to a crouch beside Draco, stretching his hands out to the fire. His fingers didn't have a blue tinge, but Draco scooted carefully away anyway. Harry insisted on not wearing gloves when they were investigating sites that the Burner had left, saying the leather would get in the way of his feeling the delicate magic that rose from the charred circles. He said Warming Charms substituted well enough for gloves.
            He also said it was only brisk outside, Draco reminded himself, and added a glare for good measure, which Harry paid no attention to.
            "I'm glad we were sent here," he said, and leaned back on his elbows, watching Draco with a smile that was turning into a grin. Draco assumed his own disgruntled expression was fueling that grin, and scowled harder, trying to make Harry apologize. Harry only turned and spelled the fire a bit warmer. "We're getting to see all kinds of things we would never see otherwise."
            "Yes," said Draco, and put a frozen touch into his voice. "Snow. Blowing snow. More snow. Soggy ground. Trees that look as though they're starving. Wind with ice crystals in it."

            "Don't be silly. You can't see the wind."
            Draco did some more glaring. Harry gave a little cough and reached out, putting a hand on Draco's knee and giving him a significant stare.
            Draco would have known the meaning of that stare right away at home, but here, he physically recoiled before he could stop himself. "No," he said, and rolled away. "Of course not."
            "We need to get you warm," said Harry, and reached out and stuck a cold hand under Draco's shirt, making him yelp so hard that he shook the hand loose without effort.
            "No," said Draco. "Your hands are too cold, and I'm too cold, and we're not having sex here. Not when we might have to reach for our wands any second." He thought it was a good excuse, and wouldn't make Harry laugh at him the way that talking about needing to watch for some creature prowling the darkness would have.
            "We could share body warmth--"
            "If you had any."
            At least that won him some silence in which he could hear the crackling of the fire. Draco listened to it and wondered why he didn't feel luckier.
*
            Draco opened his eyes abruptly, shivering so hard that it seemed his hands would fall off. He rolled over and stared for a moment at Harry, who was curled against his side. Harry was sleeping with a frown on his face, but barely shivering.
            The question of why they should be cold at all penetrated Draco's consciousness, and he looked towards the brazier, to find it dark. Likewise, the charms on the tent had vanished, and they were lying on a floor of soggy earth, with water around them and a tiny tent hanging open to the wind.
            Draco swore under his breath. He shook Harry hard, and Harry finally woke up and reached for his wand. But his hand was shaking, and it seemed likely that he wouldn't be able to hold it long enough to light the brazier again.
            Draco grabbed Harry's shoulder just as he started to flick his wand. Harry glared at him out of a face that was rapidly going blue.
            "I see something out there," Draco whispered, nodding to the tent flap, where green light soaked through beneath it. "What if it's the Burner?" They didn't actually know how the Burner drained his victims of their magic; no one had survived it or reported on the ritual. They only knew what the remains looked like, and the Aurors had deduced he was burning out their magical cores from that. "It would make sense why all our spells failed."
            Harry nodded, and crept on his knees towards the tent flap. Draco followed, wishing he was more help. But at least he had spotted the danger, and it made sense to have Harry go first and do what he could to face the Burner. Harry still wasn't shaking as hard as Draco was.
            Which means that I am more delicate, and Harry just didn't want to consider that when he was coming up with those excuses about the weather being brisk.
            Draco's smugness faded when Harry tossed the tent flap aside and stole what little warmth remained. And then Harry gasped, and Draco hurtled forwards to his side, worries about the cold forgotten in worries about the Burner.
            No one stood there, however. Instead, Harry's head was tilted back, his eyes fixed on something in the sky. Draco looked up.
            Overhead stretched a shimmering curtain of green light, looking as though someone had pulled back a black cloth and revealed the delicate backing to the night. As Draco watched, a thin line of red arced above that, and then yellow was squashed in between them, wavering back and forth like a candle flame.
            "The Northern L-Lights," Harry breathed, through teeth that chattered hard enough Draco was afraid he would break them. "A-aren't they b-beaut--"
            He couldn't even get the last word out all the way, Draco noted in some disgust. He grabbed Harry's shoulder and shook it roughly. "Beautiful or not, right now they're draining our magic!" he screamed into Harry's ear. He did it so fast that he managed to get the words out without chattering. "We have to cast the right spells."
            "They're not draining our magic," Harry said back, and his lips were blue now and his eyes were still on the lights in the sky. "They just disrupted it. Apparently they can do that." He turned around and smiled at Draco with what Draco considered a kind of deranged expression. "Did you know that--"
            "No, and I don't care, either," Draco snapped, and drew his own wand. His hand was shaking, but at least he wasn't distracted by lights that were probably evil. He cast a Warming Charm, and gasped aloud as the painful life rushed back into his hands.
            "They're beautiful," Harry said again.
            Draco rolled his eyes and cast a Heat Sphere around Harry, then around himself. The wind was still slicing through it, which was a pity, but at least it made the blue color in Harry's lips retreat a little.
            "We need to get back inside and repair the tent," Draco muttered, catching hold of Harry's arm. "Come on. We won't be good for anything tomorrow if we can't warm up and get some sleep, and maybe tomorrow we can catch the Burner and get out of this forsaken place--"
            Harry abruptly slumped at his side. Draco stared at him, then around in the eerie dance of the lights. His first thought was that the lights were evil after all, no matter how beautiful they were, and that they had caused Harry to faint.
            But then he spied the gleam of a fire on the ground, and heard a shrill voice chanting. He knew what it was.
            Draco increased the Heat Sphere around himself to a blazing intensity, calming his shivering, and pointed his wand directly at the gleam of the fire. The one good thing about what the Burner did--if the Aurors who had theorized about his process of draining magical cores without seeing it were right--was that it required his whole concentration. Catch up with him while he was doing the ritual to drain someone, and he couldn't exactly fight you off.
            Draco was hoping that was right. He might complain and moan when Harry dragged him on missions like this, but Harry had been dear to him since the first time they'd saved each other's lives as Auror partners, and even more so since the moment Harry had said that the drunken kiss he'd given Draco the night before was going to be genuine. They were lovers, they were partners, and Draco loved the stubborn, biased arse despite everything.
            No Burner--which was a stupid name, anyway--was about to deprive Draco of him.
            "Alsius!" Draco yelled as hard as he could, and threw all the fury and fear and frustration along his wand towards the Burner.
            The spell immediately rose around him, howling. It would have been effective even in a normal climate if cast with force like that, Draco thought, but given the cold air around him that it had to work with, it was perhaps three times as strong. The icy wind drove straight at the Burner and surrounded him with a Cold Sphere, the opposite of the Heat Sphere. It also started snowing fiercely on top of him.
            In seconds, the Burner's fire vanished, and Harry stirred at his side. Draco smiled grimly and aimed his wand again, hearing the distant yelp of dismay. He hated this place, but right now, it was going to help him. "Contumulo!"
            Normally, the spell would have made stones or sand rise up and then fall down on top of the victim, burying him, but here, the magic took the most abundant material it had to work with. The snow cascaded down on the Burner's head, locking his arm in place before he could aim his wand, and in two seconds he looked like one of those men made of snow that Harry had said Muggles built. Draco grinned viciously. I hope it's cold inside there, you fucker.
            The rush of battle left him as soon as he Summoned the Burner's wand, and then he stood there, panting, for a second. But a glance at Harry let him know that while Harry was benefiting a little from the warmth around Draco's body, he needed more care than that if Draco was going to save him.
            He promptly rushed Harry into the tent and conjured another fire in the brazier. Then he began to rub Harry's hands and feet, and Harry moaned and shifted around. Draco cast another Heat Sphere and peeled off Harry's clothes, soaked with snow. Wanker probably hadn't even changed them after he'd come in earlier saying the weather was brisk, Draco thought, and rolled his eyes.
            "Draco. Wh-what happened?" Harry coughed as he spoke the last words, and managed to force his eyes open against what looked like heavy resistance.
            "I caught the Burner." It crossed Draco's mind that he should go and make sure the Burner was still alive, but he wasn't going to worry about it right now. The spell he'd cast wasn't meant to kill the victim, only keep them immobile, and obviously, the Burner had managed to survive by himself in the snow so far. "And you need to rest."
            "Make sure he's all right."
            Draco sighed wearily. He never could resist Harry when he looked at him with pleading eyes like that. "Oh, all right."
            Draco stepped back outside and looked around carefully. Yes, the Burner was still where Draco had put him. Draco dissipated the snow, Stunned the man, and dropped him into the middle of a Heat Sphere that he raised to hover a little off the ground. That way, he wouldn't get snow or ice actually on him, and his robes would dry soon enough. Without his wand, it was extremely unlikely that he would be able to escape.
            Draco did go over and stomp down on the remains of his fire. It didn't do to be careless.
            Harry dragged himself up, peering at him hopefully, as Draco came back inside. "You're okay? And he's okay?"
            "I don't know why in the world you want to worry about him, when there are worthier people to worry about," Draco said, rolling his eyes, but relented when Harry only stared at him steadily. "Yes. He's Stunned in a Heat Sphere. I promise I'll get him back to justice instead of killing him the way he deserves."
            Harry made an attempt to smile, and his shivering calmed. "Well. Then I suppose we have to concentrate on getting me warm."
            Draco nodded, and Transfigured the floor of the tent back to wood, then set about renewing the charms that would hold the tent flap shut. Harry only let him get that far before he put a hand on Draco's wrist. Draco blinked and looked at him again, wondering if there was some step in the charms he had forgotten.
            But Harry was smiling at him in a way that made some of the hair on the back of Draco's neck stand up, and his voice was low and rough. "Will you reconsider sharing body warmth?"
            Draco didn't take his eyes from Harry's as he pulled off his clothes. They dripped on the floor, but that was something he could disregard if Harry could. Harry didn't need much coaxing to squirm out of his steaming robe, either, and Draco bowed down and chafed Harry's hands with his own again.
            "Those are plenty warm enough, get on with something else," Harry said after a minute, reaching out to him.
            But Draco had decided he wanted to do this his way. He gave Harry a chiding look that made him lie still, and Draco bent down and licked Harry's fingers. Harry gave a leap and a yelp, which was clearly a sign that his fingers weren't warm enough yet, and so Draco solemnly laved them with his tongue. Harry swore at him.
            Draco didn't consider that worth paying attention to, and he went down Harry's body, using his mouth and his hands and even his flanks, when he was lying down on top of Harry, to warm him up. Harry yelped and begged, but Draco stopped and explained gravely that heating someone up was a very delicate process. If you did too much of it too quickly, then you might hurt someone. For example, did Harry know what would happen to frostbitten skin if it was warmed too much?
            "No, but you're not going to know it either if you don't come here and let me snog you," Harry snarled. "Because I'm going to hit you on the side of the head, and--"
            Draco bent down and shared some more heat between their mouths, because that was very important, too, and he couldn't believe he'd forgotten it so far.
            Harry was writhing beneath him, his eyes wild and his legs splayed out and kicking Draco in the back by the time the kiss broke. His gaze remained heavy and hot on Draco, and Draco judged that he was ready by now. He sat back and reached for his wand.
            The lube that he conjured in Harry's arse and on his own cock was another source of warmth. Because he had to get Harry warm inside and out, he explained seriously, with an easy motion of his fingers that made Harry convulse and gasp against him.
            "There's such heat inside here," Draco murmured teasingly, and curled his finger. "Maybe I'll just stay like this. At least I'll know that one part of my body will be warm." He smiled at Harry, who looked as if he would like to murder Draco, at least until Draco curled his finger again. It was hard to look like you wanted to murder anyone when you were thrashing about with pleasure.
            "A different part of your body can be warm," Harry finally managed to whisper, when he had recovered his voice.
            Draco laughed and rose to his knees, sliding easily into Harry. He was glad to find that Harry could joke about this, even if it had taken a while for that sense of humor to come back to him.
            Harry eagerly pulled him in and down. If he felt any pain, either he wasn't going to show it or the earlier pain of the cold overwhelmed it in his memory. They rocked, and kissed, and Draco could barely pull away in order to thrust. Well, if that was the way Harry wanted it, Draco thought contentedly, and rocked some more, and thrust when he could.
            At least it had the effect of trapping a lot of warmth between them, which Draco suspected was part of the point.
            Harry finally lay still beneath him, panting, his arms falling open so that some of the heat fled again. Draco thrust one more time and held still, making small pulses of his cock, and Harry came with a laugh that sounded triumphant.
            Draco followed a moment later, and snuggled nearer to Harry in consequence. He was going to lose some of the warmth when the sweat on his body cooled, he thought sleepily. He wanted to stay as close as he could.
            And since Harry was already asleep, no one could prove that it was for other reasons.
*
            Harry was still asleep when Draco crawled out of the tent to check on their prisoner. The Burner was shivering, but asleep, and seemed fine. He wouldn't get frostbite any time soon. Draco nodded in satisfaction and turned around.
            The sight of the swaying curtains of light hanging down to the horizon stilled him.
            This time, blue was the predominant shade. It extended across the middle, and skirts of green hung from the sides. Red was sometimes visible, although now and then Draco thought it was his eyes tricking him by creating sparks of color in the night where there were none there.
            "Okay," Draco said at last, aloud. "I can admit that you're beautiful when you're not disrupting our magic."
            The Northern Lights didn't answer. Draco shook his head in amusement, at himself more than anything else, and turned back to the tent. He had a sleeping lover to warm up with.
  The End.
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Under Heaven