Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Anarchy as Art	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12617 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

Chapter List
- 10
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Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Eleven--Secrets Exposed

            Harry used spells to open the drawers, the cabinets, the cupboards, and the doors in Malfoy's flat, as it quickly revealed itself to be once he got beyond the bedroom where Malfoy had got off. Everything was decorated in the same dark red colors that had marked the curtains and bedclothes in that room. Harry shrugged a shoulder up when he thought about it. He had to pick and choose what was bloody significant when it came to Malfoy, as something that seemed important could always mean something else.

            Nothing, and more nothing. Well, not nothing. Cutlery that looked like it was pure silver in the kitchen, and an old china tea set with one dish chipped, and more linen than Harry had known any sane person would keep on hand in some of the cupboards, and old portraits that stared at him when he opened the doors to some of the smaller bedrooms, and a few plants with bright white flowers on them that Harry carefully avoided. With his luck, they would turn out to have a soporific scent, and Malfoy would discover him dozing on the floor in the morning.

            But nothing that seemed important. No secret documents, no letters like the ones that he had sent to Linton, and no illegal Potions ingredients, which Harry would have recognized even if he didn't know how to use them.

            Maybe this is just a place where he doesn't conduct his business, Harry thought, rapping his fingers against a small, grimy window that nonetheless gazed out on an enchanted scene of the Atlantic Ocean. Or, more likely, he wasn't dazed enough by lust to bring me to a place where I could learn more about his business.

            Harry sighed. Well, for that he had no one to blame but himself. He had known Malfoy wanted him. He should have made sure that it was enough to baffle his brain and get him to surrender his secrets before he made the git pass out.

            And then he turned around and caught sight of himself in a mirror on the back of a cupboard door that he'd opened. A strange place to keep a mirror, but Harry had already cast several common spells on it that would have detected magic, and knocked on the frame, and tried to cut out a bit of the glass, and found nothing unusual about it.

            This sight, though, made Harry go still. The mirror's gilded frame was shaped to add a thick mane of curling hair and a flowing beard to whoever looked into it, as well as downwards-slanting eyebrows that made Harry look more like Dumbledore than he was comfortable contemplating.

            But now Harry also saw that his eyes shone more in the mirror than they should, as if there was a light source behind the glass. He cast a Finite, but nothing happened. If anything, the glow grew a little brighter.

            Harry's heart was going faster than usual, but each beat in his ears was so huge and so complex that it felt slow. It couldn't--Malfoy couldn't have been so stupid as to make Harry the key to his secrets, could he? Harry's magic and reflection and eye color and, oh, other things?

            Only one way to find out, and despite the fact that Malfoy could have used almost anything to key the magic on the mirror, Harry was suddenly sure that this was the right way to go about it. He leaned close to the glass and breathed out, "Harry," trying to imagine his name the way a lover might say it.

            I don't actually have all that much experience with that.

            Before he could feel sorry for himself, though, the mirror shuddered and spun in its frame, the glass beginning to melt into silvery mist. Harry jerked his head back to avoid breathing in the mist, but it turned out he needn't have. It flowed straight up into the golden hair and eyebrows, and then straight back down, making the space that was left glow with the same strange green light that had reflected in his eyes when the mirror was intact. Harry reckoned that Malfoy must open it most of the time with either a conjured image of him or just his name.

            He shifted in place as he thought about that. Malfoy was weirdly obsessed, with Harry's name and appearance and power. It was as though he had imagined Harry at his side long before he began to court him.

            Well, of course he did, Harry thought then, and scowled. As you knew. As you started taking advantage of at the Cycling Celebration. You knew he desired you, or you wouldn't have dressed up like a whore--he scowled down at his robes in turn--and tried to seduce him. You knew this. And plenty of other people have been weirdly obsessed with you before. Voldemort ought to have been enough for a lifetime of practice.

            He still felt odd as he stood there and watched Malfoy's mirror disappear, revealing a straight passage back into what was probably a bit of wizardspace, since it was definitely much larger than the door of the cupboard could have contained. Harry leaned and looked, without trying to touch. Opened to his name or not, Malfoy probably still had traps on this cache that only he knew how to disarm.

            A gleaming pile of Galleons appeared. A golden cauldron. As Harry moved his head sideways, a stack of Muggle money neatly wrapped in string. And then--

            Harry began to breathe faster, exactly as if Malfoy had managed to make him come before he lay down.

            Got you!

            There was the resplendent rainbow gleam of a sea serpent egg, a huge one like a faceted diamond, the kind that were so rare the Ministry had instituted a penalty of a year in Azkaban for simply possessing one, whether or not you intended to steal or sell one. There had been one poor bastard last year who got six months simply for holding one when a fleeing thief thrust it into his arms and Apparated away. Sea serpents were too rare in the first place, and temperamental in the way they guarded their nests, which meant that most people who had stolen eggs killed the parents and made them rarer still.

            But, of course, the eggs are valuable in all sorts of rare potions, Harry thought, his forehead covered with sweat and his body swaying. And that's all that matters to people like him.

            "I didn't expect you to get this far."

            Malfoy's arms were around his waist, Malfoy's chin resting on his shoulder. Absurdly, the only thing Harry could think of as he shut his eyes and stood perfectly still was that, if he had left the mirror intact, it would have reflected Malfoy behind him and prevented him from taking Harry by surprise.

            "I didn't expect you to find even one of my little secrets here, let alone how deeply attuned to you they are," Malfoy said idly, and swept his fingers down Harry's flank to his waist, rooting in the robes there. He was still naked; Harry could feel the skin almost buzzing with warmth next to his back and his cock stirring gently to life against Harry's arse. "But now you know. At the very least, you can't deny that I want you now, deny what else you will." He bit Harry's ear, and Harry gasped. He was caught in some unreal world, between the thrill of discovery and the pain of discovery.

            Malfoy's hand slipped around to the front of Harry's groin and cupped his cock. Harry choked and gripped his arm, and that was how he found out that he was already half-hard, his shaft jutting forwards as if yearning for Malfoy's touch.

            "And you want me, too," Malfoy whispered into his ear.

            Harry had one, shining moment to decide what to do. It couldn't be denial; he doubted Malfoy would believe him now. And it couldn't be denial of the fact that he had acted like an Auror on a mission, either. Malfoy had caught him looking at the sea serpent's egg. He knew.

            Harry twisted around and gave Malfoy a hard little smile. And decided to go with what he was best at, in the end: the truth.

            "I know you want me," he said. "I also know that you're a thief of the highest kind, and that I have enough knowledge to expose you to the Ministry."

            "Of course you do," Malfoy said, very gentle, very low, watching him without a smile but with the possibility of a smile sparking in the air all around him. "And I might get a year in Azkaban for the sea serpent egg."

            Harry stared at him. "That doesn't worry you?" he asked at last, when he had his voice back.

            "You've seen the egg," Malfoy said, his hands still sliding up and down Harry's ribs. Harry tried not to think about how naked he was, even though it was extremely distracting. "I can't deny that much, either. But there are ways to make even a year in Azkaban pleasant, when you have as much money and as many contacts as I do." He paused reflectively. "Besides, have you thought about what would happen to you once I was arrested?"

            Harry straightened. Here might be proof that Thorin was in Malfoy's pay. "If you think you can threaten me," he began.

            "Oh, no," Malfoy breathed, his stare drilling through Harry's skull. "With nothing but the loss of an obsession. What happens to you if I'm arrested, hm? What happens to the desire to catch me that's driven you through all these cases, arresting people like Linton and trying to get closer to me?"

            Harry frowned. Malfoy seemed to be making a threat, but on the face of it, it was an absurd one. Harry didn't understand, and waited for some more clarifying words.

            Malfoy didn't seem inclined to give them. He waited, instead, his hands on Harry's hips, his gaze so direct and clear and amused that Harry finally shook his head and muttered, "I would find something else to do. Someone else to chase. I would finally be able to concentrate on my work. And meanwhile, I could know that you were where you belonged, and you were never getting out of it."

            Malfoy laughed. Harry hated that part of him vibrated to that sound, and not physically, either. Malfoy then shook his head and locked eyes with Harry, so silently amused that Harry wanted to fume. Malfoy would feel that emotion, though, as close as they were, so Harry just strove to look bored.

            "You've spent the better part of your career chasing me," Malfoy whispered. "Those interviews you gave early on, about how you were disappointed that I hadn't spent my new freedom on something more 'moral?' I was the only former Death Eater you were willing to talk about, including the dead ones. And then you became convinced I was a thief long before anyone else was."

            "You are a thief!" Harry gestured at the compartment still open in the mirror. "All I need to do is tell someone that I saw a sea serpent egg in your possession, and they'll raid! You know that! The Ministry takes that crime too seriously to allow any suspicion of it to pass uninvestigated!"

            He was regretting more and more now that Malfoy had woken up. All he'd have had to do was escape, even with a Pensieve memory, and that likely would have been enough proof to satisfy Thorin.

            "I know," Malfoy said. "But you only ran into the evidence to support that relatively recently. Before that, you still believed. Fervently. Fiercely. When even your partner had to doubt the way you pursued me. Why? Why is it so important to you, Harry, to know what's going on with me, to know what I'm doing, to believe that I'm doing something important and moral?" He leaned against Harry now, forcing him back towards the mirror. "I want to know."

            Harry ground his teeth. "Because I knew what you were," he said bitterly. "Those letters you sent me gave me hints. The documents that we found in the possession of the people you trained gave me hints. You think you can fool a trained investigator forever, Malfoy? Not me. I saw you."

            "Why shouldn't I think that I was able to fool them?" Malfoy lifted his eyebrows. "I fooled the whole cluster of them in the Auror Department, who thought I was nothing more than a harmless philanthropist attempting to make up for my less than bright past." Effortlessly, he imitated the diction and accent of the Prophet reporters who were always badgering Harry for comments. "Why were you different?"

            "Because--"

            "Yes, I know what you mean about greater skills," Malfoy said, and smiled at him. "I'm even willing to concede that your skills are greater than those of most people among the Aurors. I make it a point to fancy only the best, after all."

            Harry stared at him. How did Malfoy take every point Harry could have brought up to clear himself or make things go back to the way they should be, and turn it against him? If Harry believed in the Devil, he would definitely think that Malfoy had made a bargain of some sort with him.

            But he could defeat that advantage, if he was willing to keep telling the truth. Malfoy might think that he had more of an advantage there than Harry had, because Harry had come so late to a realization of his own desires, but not now. Not when Harry had the power to bring up the past and hurt him with it.

            "Because I tracked you in school," Harry said. "Because I always understood you for what you are, and knew you hadn't changed."

            "Tell me what I am."

            Malfoy's eyes were big, his voice unearthly, and somewhere in the back of his mind Harry knew this was surreal. Normal Aurors didn't stand in front of the criminals they were chasing and tell them off, especially when the criminals were naked.

            And normal Aurors don't dress up in their best robes and take their criminal clients out for a dance and a blowjob, either.

            "You were a coward," Harry said. "Not a horrible person, but someone who kept making all the wrong decisions. You didn't go for help when you should have. You thought you could handle the task Voldemort asked you to do all by yourself, and you couldn't. You didn't identify me when the Snatchers brought me to your house, and you were smart enough to accept my help in the Fiendfyre when I pulled you out. Those were the only two things you did right during the entire war."

            Malfoy reached up and touched the skin over his heart, spreading his fingers and pretending to examine imaginary blood on them. "The next time I ask you to tell me what I am," he murmured, "I think I'll need to be wearing protective gear first."

            Harry leaned forwards. "You still are," he said. "Instead of making something of yourself since the war, you turned to the Dark Arts. Seductive, aren't they? Feel good, don't they? And you corrupted other people the way that Voldemort and your father did. Only you used Dark magic instead of fear or bribes."

            Malfoy looked at him with eyes that were calm and bright and tearless again, and slightly shook his head. "You said it more harshly than I would have," he murmured. "But don't you think that I knew I was a coward? That I didn't have the strength to make the right decisions? Since the war, this has been a way to--"

            "What? Make the right decisions?" Harry gestured back at the sea serpent egg again, so angry he could barely speak. "Even if you didn't kill the parents yourself, you bought the egg from someone who did, and that means death and extinction--"

            Malfoy reached in with a murmured spell (which was the first time it really dawned on Harry that he was holding his wand), and summoned out the sea serpent egg. Then he twisted something on the side and held it up in front of Harry.

            It was an empty set of halves, with no yolk inside it and no trace of a young serpent. Harry's fingers trembled as he folded them into his palm. "You blew out the yolk," he muttered. "I know that some people can do that."

            "Touch the shell," Malfoy said, and offered it towards Harry. "It's made of glass. It's fake, a decoy that tricks some people into thinking I'm much richer than I am and thus someone they want to deal with." He snorted. "I didn't fool the Ministry for years by leaving evidence like this lying around where an Auror could find it, Harry. Even you."

            Harry shut his eyes. His heartbeat was going fast and feeling slow, again. He had to have some time to recover. "What did you mean, then, when you said that you did this after the war for--some reason?" he asked. "It can't be that you wanted proof that you could make the right decisions. Because you know that these aren't those!"

            His voice had soared on the end of those words. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried his best to calm down.

            And he heard nothing from Malfoy. He opened his eyes to see Malfoy staring at him intently.

            "I did it to prove that I wasn't a coward," Malfoy said, his gaze and hands rock-steady as he reached up to cup Harry's chin. "I can't be, not with the risks I take, risks that could get me captured or killed or at least arrested. And to prove that I could resist the judgment I saw in your eyes before you turned away from me in the Great Hall." He leaned nearer and held his lips next to Harry's, an inch away from kissing him, as he whispered, "But I wonder if you don't need some lessons in bravery."

            Whirling colors, like a Portkey, seized Harry, and he found himself standing in a short alley off Diagon, near an Apparition point that would lead him back home, with the sun rising.



*

            unneeded: Harry is mostly frustrated, at the moment, that Draco doesn't make sense, and he's not thinking as much about himself.

            SP777: Thanks! I wasn't sure how sexy it would seem with Harry's mind focused on the job instead of the sex, but I'm glad you liked it.

            AlterEquis: He has opened his eyes now, but now the question is, what does he do with this?
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