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A Vicious Tangle (Complete)	By : Tommy-Lane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 13085 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any charactors from the books and I am not making any money off of this.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
When Draco arrived at work the next morning it was with a knot the size of his fist in his stomach and that damnable pressure on his chest again. He stood before the door leading to his annex, half turned towards it and half towards the path that would lead to Potter's cubicle, unable to make a firm decision. He could argue both paths clearly and with great support to both sides and yet here he was...stuck like a bloody imbecile with his briefcase bursting with notes in one hand and an already empty paper cup of coffee in the other.
Logically the best course was to go to his office, spread out his notes, and go over them meticulously again, perhaps relive the memory from the disk and then activate the second disk to see what would happened. And he should run his findings by Damaris to get a second opinion, to get a fresh set of eyes to have a look and see if he was overlooking something.
But then a small part of him was tugging him further into the Auror's maze of cubicles to find Potter. He could argue that it was because the man had threatened his job if he dared to activate a disk on his own again, he could state with utter sincerity that he needed Potter to sign off on a release of information that he had already stolen two days previous - but exact times didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things now did they? But really behind it all was the drive to simply see the mental man that had kept him blindfolded for much of the morning the day before as they explored each other’s bodies in near silence.
He wanted to see him and...well he wasn't quite sure after that. He highly doubted there was any protocol already established for something like this.
"Look a little stuck there Malfoy."
Draco glanced over to see Weasley smirking at him with those damn twinkling eyes of his. Honestly it was like the man was determined to rival Dumbledore's enigmatic gleam lately. It was unsettling on a great many levels. "Weasley." He greeted, his hand rising to the doorknob after shoving the briefcase under his arm.
"Doughnut?" Weasley offered, holding out a pink lidless box to him with an assortment of fatty treats inside.
"Thank you but no," Draco offered him a tight, thin lipped smile. "I really must be going."
Weasley nodded as he cradled the box to his side. "Sure, sure. Thanks by the way."
Draco paused with the door cracked open, his brow wrinkling as he looked back at him. "For?"
"Coming to Harry's birthday. I reckon he stumbled out a piss poor invite but it was good of you to brave the lions den."
Having absolutely no clue how to respond to that without blushing or sounding like a piss poor idiot himself, Draco nodded curtly and fled through the door before the redhead could bring anything else up - like his missing shoe or the fact that he most likely had to step over Draco's trousers’ on the way up Potter's stairs. He didn't think he could deal with that kind of outright statement, if no one spoke of it he could still pretend that the man didn't know Draco had been the reason his friend hadn't shown up for work.
He debated dropping in on Damaris but quickly changed his mind as Cobble's door opened just down the way - Draco scrambling just in time into his own office to avoid seeing more than the wrinkly man's arm. Of course the rushing made him miss judge the ducking distance he needed to enact that morning and found a painful crack vibrating through his skull as he kicked the door shut.
"Bugger." He grumbled, tossing his empty cup towards the rubbish bin without looking, a plan to send out yet another strongly worded message to the maintenance department taking shape in his mind.
"You really should get that fixed you know."
Draco peaked out from under the hand that was rubbing at his head at the chuckling voice to find Potter seated in his chair, his cheek resting in his hand with his elbow on the armrest. He was smiling softly, looking calm and relaxed but there was a deep bruise with yellowed edges blooming under his right eye - making the corner slant down and all in all giving off the impression that he had just been in a bar fight. "What happened to your face?" He asked, setting his briefcase down and tilting his head as he examined the mark.
It hadn't even been a full 24 hours since he had seen the man last but apparently he had somehow managed to stir up trouble in the limited time. Probably while being stupidly heroic, perhaps he better check the man for missing fingers and toes. And maybe a thorough once over as well.
Potter shrugged and sat back in the chair. "Weasley family dinner."
"And do those typically end in brawls then?" Draco scolded.
"No." He laughed and lightly touched the bruise with a quick sweep of his fingers like it was simply a smudge of ink. "And it wasn't a brawl, more a...disagreement."
"And which Weasley were you disagreeing with?" Pulling the notes from his bag, he slipped them into the correct file and slid it into its spot in the cabinet, turning back to Potter to find the man standing behind him, casually leaning back against the desk.
"Not a Weasley." Potter smiled cheekily, his arms crossed over his uniform clad chest. "Not yet anyway."
Draco wrinkled his brow as he thought, the bruise looking so much worse with Potter's face so near him. It looked bloody horrible and made his fingers itch to do...something. "Granger hit you?" He asked as realization dawned, the very idea of the bookish woman actually punching her dear friend hard enough to leave a mark almost unfathomable.
Potter shrugged again. "Yeah, well, she's hormonal. She yelled, hit me, and then cried about it for an hour until Ron got her some ice cream."
"Hormonal? Dear god you don't mean there's going to be a bastard Weasley child running around in nine months do you?"
"It won't be a bastard by the time it's born." Potter chuckled. "But pretty much, yeah."
Draco didn't know what to say to that, was he supposed to congratulate the no doubt soon to be god parent on the newest wailing infant that was going to be in his life? Probably, but that didn't mean he had any intention to, Potter would probably look at him like he randomly sprouted a second head if he did in any case. "Why did she feel the need to punch you? And don't you dare just shrug." He narrowed his eyes as Potter was obviously seconds away from doing just that.
"She's...unhappy...with certain aspects of my life." Potter fidgeted, his gaze darting to his feet. "Thinks I'm playing with fire or something like that."
"Well you wouldn't be you if you played it safe now would you?" Draco scoffed. "Honestly, anyone who willingly lowers themselves into a cave filled with Blasted-ended Skewerts to retrieve a bloody necklace instead of just summoning it like any normal wizard would do is obviously missing a few screws in the head."
"I was going to summon it but you pushed me!" He retorted, shaking his head at him.
"No proof." Draco countered, wondering why he felt like smiling as Potter huffed and shifted against the edge of the desk. It was mildly unsettling, wishing to stretch his facial muscles in such a way simply because Potter was, well...looking like that. Actually it was just irritating and Draco's twitching smile flipped into a grimace at his own softness. Why exactly was he even discussing this with Potter? Why did he even care? Why the fuck couldn't he just pretend that he didn't know the answer to that? "And just what exactly do you think you’re doing lurking in my office?" He snapped, angry at himself and needing to take it out on someone.
"I'm not lurking." Potter sighed, dragging a hand through his tousled hair, the light in his eyes shifting as his lips pursed. "I'm just -"
"Making sure I don't go running off?" Draco stepped around him and with a flick of his wand watched as the shelves clunked into the light and the black box sailed towards them, popping open with another quick flick. Carefully lifting the disk from the second murder, Draco peered down at the green and black pattern and felt the cold trickle down his spine as it settled snugly against his palm.
"Well you are still wearing my Apparation bracelet." Potter muttered in his ear as he slid his arms around Draco's sides and settled his front to the blonde's stiff back, his hand curling under Draco's with his fingers brushing the brown wire. "A felony in itself."
"Mhmm well arresting me would mean loads of paperwork for you." Draco pointed out, noticing how oddly nice it felt to be encircled in Potter's familiar warmth.
"True." Potter's fingers played across his wrist and Draco suppressed a shiver. "Best to flee the scene then." And with that they were twisting and Draco's hand clamped down on the disk as they popped away.
The air roared around them in the way it only ever did when at the seaside as they landed just out of reach of the lapping waves, Potter's arms still firmly around him as Draco blinked in the sudden brightness, unsure if he was relieved or not that Potter had automatically brought them directly here. The second murder had been on a private strip of beach, the body of the middle aged, dark haired man washing up on the sandy shore after hours at sea - his body bloated with sea water and hair and eyelashes crusted with salt. And now they were standing mere inches from where the body had been found.
Draco looked at the sand and tried to picture it, finding the image splotchy and grainy as he did so, the thought of the dead man flowing back away with each lick of water near his toes like the ocean was keen on making sure no one ever knew what had happened here. "His name?" He asked quietly.
"Sam Wilson." Potter answered, his voice mingling with the wind and driving bits of Potter's dark hair into his vision as the man tipped his head over his shoulder. "His wife could barely recognize him."
Draco sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, unconsciously leaning back into Potter's strong chest. "Bugger." He said on a long exhale, the stark reality that he was going to have to enter those cold waves making him apprehensive, even more so than when he had done so at the lake for some reason.
"Malfoy I need you listen to me, alright?" Potter still hadn't loosened his grip and Draco couldn't decide if he was glad for that or not but he nodded anyway, waiting silently for Potter to continue, if only to further stall the inevitable. "I think this plan of yours if fucking mental but...I also know it's the only real lead we have, not that I understand it at all." He paused and Draco felt him shift and pull him back slightly, a move that seemed more impulsive and unconscious than anything. "But I also can't just let you dive into the damn ocean and hope to god that you get sent another vision instead of getting yourself killed."
"An impasse then." Draco frowned at the waves rolling before him.
Potter hummed in agreement as he nodded. "So I'm coming in with you."
"No." Draco refuted, his pulse thumping at the thought. He had no idea if he would witness another memory or vision or if Potter was with him if that would alter the outcome in any way. Not to mention the little fact that he simply couldn't stomach the idea of Potter being the next body to float up onto the shore, his skin spongy and his eyes dulled in death.
"Not up to debate." Potter used his full Auror do as I say voice and Draco bet that if he turned he would see the guarded expression that always overtook the man whenever he was staring down a supposed criminal.
"Potter-" He growled somewhat tiredly.
"Malfoy." He shot back and Draco had the strangest thought that they really needed Weasley to make a sudden appearance right about now to break the stalemate they were undoubtedly about to find themselves in as Draco huffed and crossed his arms irritably - purposely ignoring the fact that that just made Potter squeeze him tighter.
"You're not going to bloody let go until I relent are you?" Draco sighed, the embrace suddenly seeming like a steel cage barring him from taking another step down this rocky road the case was taking him on.
"Catch on fast."
"Your martyr complex is exceedingly tiresome." He kicked the sand and cursed the wind as it sent his hair whipping into his eyes on an especially strong gust.
Potter chuckled. "What can I say, my complex seems rather fond of keeping you alive." His lips brushed under the curve of Draco's jaw as he spoke, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin as he jerked abruptly forward - breaking free from Potter and forcing the butterflies to stop attacking his fucking stomach. Honestly, it would not due to start losing blood to the southern portion of his body in a time like this.
He grumbled incoherently as he flung his robes off and started a tad too harshly on the buttons of his shirt, all while keeping Potter firmly out of his line of sight. Merlin something was seriously wrong with him. A little touch of the man’s lips shouldn't have sent hot pleasure coursing through his veins and it most definitely shouldn't have made him want to twist around and capture that intolerable mouth with his own. Especially now. While they were on the blasted job, while they were about to jump into the fucking ocean and pray things would turn out well. He didn't like Potter being here with him, unpleasant reactions aside, it was simply too dangerous.
"The current is going to try and push you back out." Potter said, apparently having slipped even further into Auror mode while Draco was angrily shedding his garments.
Draco bunched his socks into his shoes, grasped the disk tightly, and stepped into the water. "Goody you're here then." He grumbled, a hand appearing on his wrist, stopping him from diving under the water that was at his torso, the calm waves gushing up towards his shoulders.
"Malfoy," Potter's skin looked paler in the sunlight and the sparkling surface of the ocean, his expression filled with trepidation. "Be careful." He smiled softly and before Draco could so much as panic Potter was threading his fingers through his hair, tugging Draco sharply forward until their lips touched in a kiss that was softer than any other one he had ever experienced. It sent waves of pins and needles over his body, made his breath stop and his heart thump. Potter moved his mouth in a gentle caress that was over before Draco could even blink and as he felt his cheeks flush and the first stirrings of fear rise in him Potter was dropping his hand down to grasp Draco's and then they were no longer above the surface but instead looking at each other though the silver, wavering light of the ocean.
Draco didn't have time to ponder the feelings coursing through him, didn't even have time to register the urge to mold himself to Potter and kiss him properly because he could already feel the disk pulsing in his hand and with a quick downward glance he had all but a second before a noise that sounded like hundreds of feet running on ancient stone was drowning out everything else as a tentacle touched him and he was sucked through once more.
He was running, fleeing down an upward sloping tunnel made of pure stone.
Though there was the clear impression that it wasn't his feet hitting the ground, that it wasn't his breath he could hear loudly puffing out, that it wasn't his fear that he could feel lacing through him. He wasn't witnessing the memory from afar this time, he was in the center of it, looking out from whoever was running with everything they had. He could feel an oppression constricting his lungs, he could feel the person's legs burn with each step, could feel the thump of their heart. He could feel the dark coil of magic making their limbs twitch and feet stumble, the magic that was making their head split and turn around in circles before they, she, was sobbing and going up the tunnel again.
He could hear her chanting. Telling herself that she would make it, that this time she would make it. Then her knee was connecting sharply with the stone floor, slicing into her skin and making blood trickle. Draco felt that pain but it was nothing compared to the surge of magic that nearly overwhelmed him as she rolled onto her back and gasped for breath.
"No, no, no, no." She was sobbing and Draco saw her lift her hands and then it all went black as she pressed them over her eyes. "Get out, get out, get out!" She screamed at no one. Except no, that wasn't right. She was screaming at the magic inside her that was making her legs jerk like a puppet, that was tugging her back down the tunnel that was leading deeper into the earth. Time stretched for what felt like hours before she was crawling back up the tunnel, her long, grimy blonde hair in her eyes, then she was speaking again in broken sobs.
She was calling for him.
Then something coarse and painful was wrapping around her ankle and with a scream she was flying back down the tunnel, away from the light that had been a growing speck at the end.
As he was thrown back into his own body, delirious and nauseous and shaking, Draco was vaguely aware of arms around him and water surging over his head before he was breaking the surface and gulping in clean air. The sun blinded him as he was pulled through the waves and flopped onto the wet sand. There were fingers pushing the hair from his face, a forehead pressed to his, blocking out the too bright light.
"Wake up now you bloody idiot. Fucking...wake up!" Potter's thumb was brushing over his cheek bone, his voice cracking like he was sure Draco had just been claimed as victim number 7 despite the fact that his eyes were already open - or maybe they weren't, it was actually too difficult to tell at the moment.
"M'awake." He sputtered, the terror that had gripped him as he had resided in the girl’s body slowly receding only to be replaced by his fear for her - whoever she was - the sinking reality that she hadn't escaped clamping down over his lungs.
"What happened?" Potter asked, pulling back slightly to peer down at him, the water clinging to his sopping hair falling in drops onto Draco's face.
"There was a girl...I think she was the same one from last time." Draco closed his eyes and pictured what he could of her, of her flash of blonde hair and the pale, dainty hands before they had covered her eyes. But more than anything she felt the same and she sounded the same - the way her voice shook as she spoke his name sending a chill down his spine as he thought on it. "I think...older though." He wasn't sure how he knew that, he just did. "She was running up a tunnel, trying to escape."
"Escape what?" Potter asked softly as he shifted till he was lying on his side, his fingers never leaving Draco's cheek.
Draco shook his head. "I don't know. But she was struggling to even walk at times, something inside her was trying to drag her back down." Like a puppet with broken strings, Draco thought, remembering he had tried to explain that exact same feeling to Potter not long ago. Perhaps this, she, had been what he had been feeling all along. Perhaps she was the one who was making him feel like he was treading on someone else’s consciousness. Perhaps the disks were her way of reaching out to him.
Oh god, Draco felt tears prick his eyes as sorrow overwhelmed him. She had been calling him like he was some sort of...but he wasn't. Merlin he wasn't and he didn't even know who she was, where she was, or even if she was fucking real.
"Did she escape?" Potter sounded reluctant to voice his question and god did Draco wish he hadn't.
His throat went dry and he shook his head again.
"Did you recognize her?"
"No." Draco responded although she did seem somewhat familiar but he wasn't sure if that was because of all that had been going on, the odd connection between them, or if he had actually known her at some point in his life. "We need to get the next disk." He sat up abruptly, a sense of urgency filling him as he thought of her. Trapped, filled with dark magic, and waiting...for him.
"Not today." Potter jumped up with him, clamping his hand over his elbow and keeping him from spinning away. "You need to recuperate."
"I'm fine." Draco jerked free and scooped up his clothes, frowning as he shrugged on his robes over his wet and shirtless body - not that it mattered, he was simply going to get the next disk and hop back into some sort of water.
"You're shaking." He pointed out, flicking his own wand when Draco's third attempt at a drying charm failed. "I'm not going to let you get in over your head."
Draco laughed at that, the sound a bitter thing that stung his own ears. "Over my head? Merlin Potter this whole thing is over my head! People don't depend on me to save them, I'm not the hero, that's you!"
Potter looked at him sadly, reaching out to touch him again. "Malfoy-"
"No," Draco sprung backwards and out of his reach. "I have to find her, I have to..." He paused as a thought hit him, the idea taking a slow shape in his mind. It was long shot but it might lead to something. "I have to go." He muttered and before Potter could respond he was grabbing his shoes and spinning away.
****
Blaise sat in the stiff winged back chair, the cigarette in his hand burning down towards his fingers with a thick pile of ash collecting at the tip. He gazed steadily back at Draco with his deep brown eyes, his tongue stayed and silent. "Well, that's...quite the story." He said slowly, breaking the silence that had settled over them.
Draco nodded, flicking the curling mess of hair out of his face.
"Have you spoken to Pansy about this?" He asked, stabbing the wasted stick out in a nearby ashtray.
Draco didn't answer, just lifted his eyes carefully to fix on Blaise's. He could never mention this to Pansy, could never bring up that day when her failure to murder brought about Draco's intimate taste of it. He couldn't bring up Theo either, not ever. It was their unspoken agreement. They didn't speak of it, keeping it swept under the rug.
Blaise nodded in understanding. "An odd memory to have stumbled across." He mused.
"It was deliberate. I think she...whoever she is...wanted me to see it again." Draco set his untouched glass of brandy down and stood stiffly, striding to the ornate fireplace and staring into the flames roaring there - the heat a nearly tangible thing. Funny how used to being cold he had already gotten, to the point that the fire so near him was almost too much.
"Any idea as to why?"
"No. I don't...who expect the people there would have the memory of it? Everyone there was fully pledged Death Eaters and I can't see any reason they'd want me to relive that moment. I haven't spoken of it to anyone. Which leaves just Pansy and she-"
"Told the story once." Blaise interrupted him, Draco's head snapping to the side to look at the darker man, the question silent on his lips. "The night it happened, she was sent back to school. I overheard her sobbing it out to the girls in her dorm before Snape came to calm her down."
Draco quickly ran through the girls Pansy roomed with - Tracy, Millicent, and Daphne. He pictured Pansy, the girl's stalwart leader, distraught and incoherent - sobbing over the death of a friend and painting Draco in the kind of light Draco saw himself portrayed in in the memory from the disk. She had colored him her hero, he knew that, and apparently she had told others before clamping her tongue shut forever on the subject. But Tracy was small with dishwater hair and jagged fingernails from biting them. Millicent was stout and thick, messy brown hair chopped short. And Daphne...Daphne was the closest thing to the girl he had seen in the vision but it couldn't have been her because she had grown to nearly rival Draco in height by the end of school.
"Could anyone else have heard?" He asked, desperately trying to make some sort of connection.
Blaise shrugged. "Perhaps. You think whoever is impregnating the disks with memories overhead Pansy's retelling?"
"It's a theory at least."
Blaise was silent for a long while as they both thought on it. "I think you know what you need to do then." He said and Draco let out a long breath, wishing to Merlin that he didn't. But it was the logical next step, the only one that made any sense from where he was standing. The problem was he didn't know if he could do that to her, if he could make her open those gates and relive that night that she so adamantly suppressed.
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- 13
- 14
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A Vicious Tangle (Complete)