Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

19 Years and 5 Minutes Later	By : TheMightyFlynn Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 58416 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters related to that series; they are JK Rowling's. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-19 Years and 5 Minutes Later
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 21-Ch. 21
- 22-Ch. 22
- 23-Ch. 23
- 24-Ch. 24
- 25-Ch. 25
- 26-Ch. 26
- 27-Ch. 27
- 28-Ch. 28
- 29-Ch. 29
- 30-Ch. 30
- 31-Ch. 31
- 32-Ch. 32
- 33-Ch. 33
- 34-Ch. 34
- 35-Ch. 35
- 36-Ch. 36
- 37-Ch. 37
- 38-Ch. 38
- 39-Ch. 39
- 40-Ch. 40
- 41-Ch. 41
- 42-Ch. 42
- 43-Ch. 43
- 44-Ch. 44
- 45-Ch. 45
- 46-Ch. 46
- 47-Ch. 47
- 48-Ch. 48
- 49-Ch. 49
- 50-Ch. 50
- 51-Epilogue
- 11
- 12
- 13
A/N: Thanks for the reveiws! Kakashi: you'll get slow and fluffy eventually, I just have to get them there :D

“Malfoy? What the hell are you doing here?”
Draco smiled at the tone of surprise to Yasmine Archibald‘s voice as he entered her office. She was the last of the Chiefs of the newspapers that he had to visit that afternoon and he knew she would be the hardest to convince to see things his way. Every one of the other Chiefs of the major papers had owed him a favour, making it easy to silence them. Yasmine, on the other hand, had resisted every single offer of assistance Draco had made over the years and therefore had avoided finding herself in his debt. He knew that there was one slight chance that he had something that he could use on her, but he had no idea if it would work against the kind of money the story on he and Harry could make for her. He had not had a challenge like this in a long time; it was hopefully going to prove to be quite fun.
“Hello to you too, Yasmine; nice to see you have lost none of your subtlety.”
Moving into the room, Draco stopped just before her desk, his hands clasped behind his back. He had perfected his routine of intimidation many years before, but he had the feeling that it wouldn’t work on Yasmine the same way it worked on her dull-witted colleagues. Raising an eyebrow when she did not react to the insult earned him a roll of her eyes. Everything about this woman seemed to have been designed to give off the impression of her being as stupid as the rest of the brainless laggards who worked at the Prophet: her fashionable haircut and clothing, her obviously bleached blonde hair, the expression of eagerness that she usually wore. Draco knew better, however. Anyone sharp enough to avoid falling into the subtle political traps he had laid over the years had to be considered a worthy adversary, even if the battlefield was only a newspaper office.
“I’ll take a scotch, thanks for asking.”
Smirking when she rolled her eyes again and stood to fetch the drink, Draco strolled over to the window that overlooked Diagon Alley, watching the people bustling around. He knew he had to play this one carefully, because the second Rita Skeeter got scent of scandal in the Potter or Malfoy families, she would pounce on it; especially if it involved the both of them. The two of them were worth the front page separately; Draco knew that when word got out about what was currently happening, they would be hounded for months.
“To what do I owe the... well. Why are you here?”
Draco smiled properly as Yasmine expertly returned the subtle insult. Yes, he decided, breaking her would be worth any effort he put in here today. Sipping at the tumbler of scotch she had handed him allowed him just enough time before answering that he knew it would have annoyed her.
“Is it really so unusual for me to wish to keep up with the news that my every action has to be called into question?”
“Yes.”
Damn. Apparently she was not going to be drawn in that easily. Turning to meet her sharp brown eyes, he offered a small smile. He was about to try another tactic when she cut him off.
“Look Malfoy, I am a very busy woman, despite the fact that it’s a Saturday afternoon. Why not just tell me what you want so I can turn you down and kick you out?”
Draco pretended to consider the idea as he sipped at the scotch. It was really quite good quality; something he had not expected from the offices of the Prophet. Moving just as slowly as he had when he had walked over to the window, he made his way around the room, brushing his fingers over the spines of the books she had on the shelves. He made certain to move in just the right way so that his robes flowed in the same way his Father’s had when he had spent most of his time intimidating moronic Ministry staff. Having the Malfoy flair for the dramatic did come in handy sometimes, he had to admit. Spinning around when he reached the door, he placed his empty glass on a stack of newspapers.
“How are your family?” He had to bite back a vicious grin as her expression shuttered. “I know your kids are both safe at Hogwarts, but how about that husband of yours?”
“What. Do. You. Want, Malfoy?” There was now an undisguised anger to her voice, telling Draco that he had been right about her one soft spot. “Tell me now or I’ll call the guards and get you kicked out in front of everyone and believe me, they’ll enjoy it.”
Strolling forward with his hands clasped behind his back again, Draco knew he was on the verge of winning. A few more jabs and he should have her eating out of his hand. He draped himself elegantly on the chair in front of her desk, treating it as though it was a throne rather than the uncomfortable, shitty wooden chair that it truly was. Father had taught him that the secret to intimidation was confidence. If you looked like you belonged there and knew exactly what you were doing, then people would believe you, even if they knew in the back of their minds that what they were seeing was wrong. Now, Draco only had the tiniest amount of information on Yasmine’s husband, but with his years of practice in the kind of political manoeuvres he was used to making, he knew he could use it to his advantage.
“Is he back from his little trip to America?”
There was now nothing about the woman before him that suggested that she was anything other than the cunning and intelligent person who had connived her way up to her current position in one of the shortest amounts of time ever. Her jaw clenched in obvious anger at the same time her hands did and Draco had to bite back a triumphant smile.
“What do you know?”
This time he did smile; this was much better. “I know that addiction is a nasty thing, especially if it was you who has worked so very hard to earn the money he is throwing away at Muggle casinos. Las Vegas it was that you had to drag him back from recently, correct?”
He knew that this was the ultimate in cruelty; that using a man’s addictions against his wife was one of the lowest things he could do. However, what choice did he have? He wasn’t threatening to release the information he had, he was just letting her know that he knew. If she was desperate enough to offer to keep a secret for him in exchange for the same, then he would take full advantage of it. If not... well, that was when he would begin to get really nasty. He watched as she weighed her response, obviously going over her options in her mind. He knew she only had one option left to her and waited, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips, until her shoulders slumped slightly.
“What do you want? I can’t give you information on Gringotts or anything like that and you probably know more about the inner workings of the Ministry than I do.”
“In the coming days or weeks, there will be a major story that everyone will know of, but no one will write about. I want you to muzzle every single one of your reporters, especially dear Rita.”
She frowned, obviously fighting her journalistic instincts. “I’m going to need a little more information than that if I’m to stop everyone from writing about it.”
“Well, this is where your power as Chief of the Prophet comes into it. You’ll most likely hear it from your star Quidditch reporter.” He paused when she sighed and sat back in her chair.
“I’m not going to purposefully damage Ginny Potter’s career so you can have some petty revenge on her husband, Malfoy, no matter how much you threaten me.”
Draco was unable to prevent the smirk that crossed his face at the idea. “Please. If I wanted revenge on Potter do you really think I would stoop so low as to damage his wife’s career? No, nothing so gauche. I have a personal interest in the story she will have on offer and I would rather the entire story come to light at the same time, rather than just what she will tell you. What I want is for you to prevent that one story from going out until I can offer you the story in its entirety.”
An interested glint came into her eye at that last and Draco knew he had her. Always play to people’s greed, was what Father had told him and Draco had lived by those words. The reason no one ever took him to court for blackmail was because, unlike his father, he had offered each of them something they wanted more than the original idea they had had. Lucius had relied too heavily on blackmail and the threat of revenge by an angry Death Eater to scare people into doing his bidding; Draco knew he didn’t have that kind of fear to rely on, so he had developed his own methods.
“You’re making me a counteroffer on a story that I haven’t yet been offered?”
“Yes. I can guarantee that you’ll get the full story, not just one side. Hell, you can even include Weasley’s version of the facts when you get the real version; compare them against each other if you really wish. As long as you promise me that you’ll not publish any version of the story she offers you before you have the full thing, we’ll be just fine.”
Blowing a huge breath out as she sank back into her chair again, Yasmine ran her hands through her hair. “This must be one hell of a story you’re asking me to pull, Malfoy.”
He smiled, knowing that there was no way she would turn him down. “This will be the biggest story since Voldemort’s defeat, I can almost guarantee it. And you will get the full, unadulterated version of the facts. All you have to do is promise me to not publish anything on it before I can get you the full story.”
“And in return, you will keep your mouth shut about my husband.” It was a statement, not a question. Draco inclined his head and watched Yasmine relax. “Alright, Malfoy, you’ve got yourself a deal. God help me, but I’ll keep this juicy story from going out if you’ll keep your gob shut.”
“Much appreciated.”
Draco stood and stalked out of the room, finally allowing himself to feel the nerves that he had repressed before entering the room. He leant back against the wall the second he had rounded the corner out of sight of the offices and took a steadying breath. His insides felt as though they were preparing to liquefy from the stress running through him; he had never once had a personal stake in any of the dealings he had had with any of the papers. Reminding himself that he had decided that Harry was worth all this trouble, he fought down the urge to just end it with him right then. Pushing off the wall once he had everything locked down again, he made his way back to the Apparition point so he could continue preparing for the inevitable backlash.
*~*
Taking a deep breath just before he crossed the protective wards on the Burrow, Harry attempted to calm his thoughts. He knew that by now Ron and the rest of the family would know who it was that he was sleeping with; there was no way Ginny would let him get away with keeping that quiet. The panic that he expected to be feeling wasn’t there, however. Yes, his mind was racing, but it was not through any kind of panic. A sense of doomed finality had settled over him the second Draco had left that afternoon, leaving him alone with his thoughts for the first time since he had woken. He fully expected to lose the custody battle that he knew was coming, be absolutely humiliated in the press and have to resort to hiding away at Grimmauld, because it was still hidden with the Fidelius.
A sudden shock of realisation hit him the second he thought of the charm hiding Grimmauld: they had to remove Ginny as a Secret Keeper for the house or else he would never have any peace. Turning away from the house, he almost conjured his Patronus before remembering that Hermione was actually in the house ahead of him. As were Ron, Ginny, Molly, Arthur and any number of other Weasleys.
This was a huge mistake.
Harry flexed his fingers as he prepared himself to make his way up the walk to the house. Having called at Ron and Hermione’s a few minutes before, he knew that they had come here with Ginny. It had seemed like the perfect opportunity to get everyone over with at once; this way he wouldn’t have to go through the same questions – the same accusations – over and over again. He knew that doing that would just fray his temper and put him at risk of hexing whichever Weasley was in front of him when he finally lost it; which, of course, would probably end up as front page news as well, if Ginny had anything to do with it. Shaking his head to clear the bitterness from his thoughts, he stepped determinedly through the wards and made his way slowly towards the house.
A quick shot of nerves nearly overwhelmed him as he walked up the path leading to the house. He knew he had to look at this logically: none of the Weasleys were likely to want anything to do with him after this. It was a simple fact that he had to accept. At the end of the day the only family he would have left would be his kids and he would be damned if Ginny was going to take them away from him as well. Taking another breath – this one slightly shaky – Harry tried to push the thoughts aside.
“You fucking bastard.”
Well, that doesn’t help. Harry held back a grim smile as Ron appeared in the doorway of the Burrow almost the second he had turned the corner. He subtly moved his hand to the hilt of his wand, just in case. If he had to defend himself, then he didn’t want to be caught short. He had been prepared for this; had known that Ron was not happy with him and probably never would be again. That had not stopped the words from hurting, however. Stopping halfway down the path, he met his friend’s angry eyes and braced himself for the explosion.
“Ron–”
“No, don’t. Why would I want to listen to a single thing you have to say? I knew – I knew – when we were sixteen years old that letting this continue was a bad idea! I tried to talk Ginny out of it, but no! She was in love.”
The scorn in Ron’s voice was no surprise to Harry, but it hurt anyway. They had been best friends for most of their lives – as well as Auror partners for the five years Ron had been with the Department – and the fact that Ron wasn’t even willing to listen to an explanation felt like a blow directly to Harry’s stomach. Of course, that pain was followed swiftly by a shot of guilt because he knew that Ron was only siding with his family; he would have expected no less from his friend.
“And to make it worse, you decided to cheat on her with Malfoy.”
Harry’s insides froze for a few seconds. He had to tell himself very firmly that he had expected this part as well before he could begin to breathe properly again. Ginny knew that her family had never gotten along with the Malfoys, so of course she would play off that aspect as much as possible; it was only natural. However, despite his determination to look at things clearly and logically, he could feel his own frustration rising at Ron’s refusal to even listen to him.
“So you’re not even going to respond? Typical.”
That last jab, combined with the disgust he heard in his friend’s voice, appeared to be the last straw for Harry’s straining control. Taking a deep breath, he met Ron’s anger with his own, despite knowing that it was a bad idea.
“Is that all she’s told you? That I cheated on her? Did she fail to mention Rhys? How about the others she’s apparently slept with over the years? How about you ask her who Ernie is?” He had tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, he really had, but it seemed that it wouldn’t be suppressed. “Ask her how she loved him, how she thinks she should have gone back to him rather than trying to convince Rhys to have another go.”
“Bullshit! Don’t you dare talk about my sister like that–”
“Like what?” Harry countered, on a roll now that he had let his own anger loose. “Don’t tell the truth about her?”
“The truth! How am I supposed to believe any of that? You come here the night after telling my sister that you’re sleeping with Malfoy–” Harry’s insides clenched with something that felt very much like a protective anger over the way Ron said Draco’s name, but he ignored it, shoving the feeling down to be examined later. “–and expect me to believe you when you say she cheated on you first? How?”
Harry closed his eyes, trying to get hold of his anger. He had known that Ron would side with Ginny; hell, Hermione had told him as much that morning. However, that had not stopped the hope that Ron would be willing to at least hear him out from growing in his chest. He pressed his lips together in a tight line, chewing on the inside of them in an attempt to regain control of his temper. When he spoke again, his voice was even.
“I don’t expect you to believe anything I say. I knew you would side with Ginny and I don’t blame you; I really don’t. She’s your sister and I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. But you need to know that you don’t know the full story. Hermione knows if you won’t listen to me. I came here with no real expectations other than telling you that Ginny hasn’t told you everything. And I know that you probably don’t even believe that, but...” He paused, running a hand through his hair as a hopelessness washed over him; he was losing his best friend – his family – and there was nothing he could do about it. “Please just give it some thought. You know from your time with the Department that there’s always two sides to a story and that one hurt party won’t tell you everything–”
“Is that Harry?”
Harry automatically took a step backwards at the sound of Molly’s voice from inside the house. While he had been prepared to defend himself against Ron, he knew there was no way he could bring himself to raise his wand to Molly, even if it was to cast a shield. He had viewed her as his mother for so long now, it was almost impossible for him to even contemplate living life without her in that role.
“Go back inside, Ron dear; I need to speak to Harry alone.”
The hopelessness that had settled over him a minute before increased as Molly appeared in the doorway and pushed Ron back inside. She closed the door to the house and turned to face him, a grim determination on her face. Harry let both his hands drop to his sides and he bowed his head, preparing to be cut down even worse than what Ron had just done.
“My daughter.”
He closed his eyes. “Yes.”
“You cheated on my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“With Draco Malfoy.”
The calmness in her voice was putting Harry on edge more than a screaming match would have and he got the feeling that she was doing it on purpose. “Yes.” When silence stretched between them for longer than Harry could stand, he risked a glance up and immediately regretted it. She was crying. “Molly?”
She held up a hand to silence him. “I never expected to be this disappointed by a son of mine.”
It was such a simple sentence, but the effect it had on him was immediate. Heat rushed through the top half of his body and his knees felt as though they had turned to jelly. Blinking as his eyes blurred, he opened his mouth several times, but nothing came out. Disappointed; he had disappointed the only person he had known as a true mother. Dragging in a rough breath, he tried again.
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t enough and he knew it, but it was the only response he could give. “I am truly sorry, but there is so much more to the story than you know right now. It isn’t as simple as me being a bastard and losing interest in Ginny, I swear.”
Molly turned red rimmed eyes to him and took a shaky breath. “I think you should leave now. Lily is perfectly safe here, as you well know, but it would be best if you weren’t here right now.”
With that, she turned and re-entered the house, closing and locking the door behind her. Harry stood and stared at the closed door for a long time, simply trying to get control over his breathing and racing heart. This was it: the beginning of the end of the safe little family he had developed around himself all those years ago and it was more devastating than he could have ever imagined.
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19 Years and 5 Minutes Later