Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Political Axes	By : Rettavex Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12136 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Political Axes
- 2-Ch 1
- 3-ch2
- 4-Ch3
- 5-Ch 4
- 6-5
- 7-6
- 8-7
- 9-8
- 10-9
- 11-10
- 12-11
- 13-12
- 14-13
- 15-14
- 16-15
- 17-16
- 18-17
- 19-18
- 20-19
- 21-20
- 15
- 16
- 17
Beta'd by Slyth. Thank you SOOOO much to those of you who reviewed. It helps keep a writer going. Continue please.
To linagabriev: Draco did not overhear the conversation between Harry and Max as they were locked in a hug and their voices were only loud enough for one another to hear. Besides, I think once Draco saw the two in an embrace all his other senses shut right off. Don't you agree? Thanks!

Harry chased Draco down the corridor, but the blond remained just out of his reach, racing around corners before Harry could grab him. He finally lost Draco at the lift, the doors closing in his face as he failed to reach them in time. After the lift whisked Draco away, Harry took the stairs at a leap, racing to stop Draco, who he could just about guess was fuming in a way that could very well melt skin if Harry could ever lay a hand on him again.
Harry made it to the Ministry lobby just in time to see Draco�s scowling face sucked away by green Floo flames. Harry swore aloud, causing a few straggler employees waiting to Floo home for the evening to look at him bewildered and a little affronted. In a rude move Harry jumped the nearest queue. Yelling about there being an emergency, he pushed an old, sleepy looking wizard out of the way and grabbed a fist full of Floo powder, flinging it at his feet just before shouting, �Malfoy Manor!�
After not finding his lover at the Manor, nor number twelve Grimmauld Place, Harry Apparated to the front steps of their flat in a Muggle part of London, hoping that Draco was there and not any of the other twenty or so properties around the globe the heir could easily access. He was getting really pissed off chasing Draco from place to place.
Harry opened the vestibule door, listening for any sounds coming from the interior of the flat. Nothing. So, he opened the door and walked softly down the hallway towards the sitting room. Once again his reflexes came in handy, because just as he cleared the hallway he saw Draco fling an antique crystal decanter full-speed at his head. Harry lifted his arm to block the object. It shattered against his elbow, drenching him in cognac and beads of glass, a few shards piercing right through the fabric of his Transfigured shirt, leaving shallow cuts along his forearm.
�Fuck! Draco, stop!� Harry yelped, his elbow aching something fierce and his eyes stinging from alcohol.
�I�ll stop all right!� Draco shouted back, picking up a small glass and aiming it at Harry again.
This time Harry stepped out of the path of the flying glass, letting it shatter against the far wall. Barring their school days, they hadn�t had a fight like this since the early days of their relationship, and by the way Draco was acting this was probably going to be legendary.
Harry raced forward, tackling Draco, who by this point had pulled his wand, bent on venting his spleen with hexes. As they slammed against the bar separating the sitting area from the kitchen, Draco let out a painful scream. His wand dropped to the pristine, red oak floors as Harry�s bulk squashed the wind out of him.
�Off me, you lying piece of shit!� Draco wheezed, using all his might to push Harry back.
As Harry stumbled back, Draco bent to retrieve his wand, only to have Harry kick out and catch his wrist, preventing Draco from grabbing it.
The blond, pissed off beyond belief at this point, swooped down on top of Harry and punched him in the mouth, blood seeping from his lover�s split lip like water. Harry reeled, shaking off the near knockout blow, wincing as Draco yanked him upright by the hair and wrapped him in a headlock, cutting off a substantial portion of his air supply.
�I fucking believed you, Harry! You and your needs. Always your needs. What about me, huh? Max! I�ll kill that pompous, thieving, Creole-speaking slag!� Draco growled insensibly, heaving Harry up onto his tiptoes as his forearm pressed into the shorter man�s windpipe.
Just as blackness threatened to take him, Harry shifted his weight back, slamming them both into the wall behind them, knocking the back of Draco�s head against it so hard it left a dent in the plaster.
Draco blinked blearily but managed to stay on his feet. He watched as Harry bent forward, his lungs gasping for air.
�Draco,� Harry wheezed. �You�ve got this all wrong. Stop and listen.�
With tears in his eyes, Draco sobbed and said, �I wanted to believe you. So much. You�him�how could you?�
Harry, by now upright and leaning against the back of the sofa, felt his heart cave at the look on Draco�s face.
�To think�I almost thought you really wanted me. Just me. That I�d finally be enough,� Draco added, tears running freely down his beautiful face.
Before Harry could reply Draco spun and took off down the hallway, towards the bedrooms. He went into their suite, locking the door behind him. Once inside the blond silently berated himself for leaving his wand. He couldn�t cast a ward wandlessly if Harry himself Imperiused him to do so.
Equally addled by their fast-paced argument was Harry, who could be amazingly dumb in his anger, especially anger at Draco. Case in point, instead of just using magic�his considerable magic�to unlock the door or blast it off the hinges, Harry beat on it with his fists, yelling for Draco to open it or else.
�Go the fuck away!�
�No. I mean it. This is stupidly dramatic, even for you, Dray. Open the goddamned door this instant!�
�Go fuck yourself!�
With that Harry stepped back and kicked the door in, breaking the lock and splintering the handle.
Draco launched himself at Harry the minute the brunet entered, his elegant hands turned into blunt force instruments in his rage. Harry allowed the blond to batter him in the chest for a few minutes as he tried in vain to wrestle the angry man into submission, but Draco wouldn�t give, slapping Harry hard across the cheek while continuing to spit vitriolic statements about the green-eyed wizard. Harry hated being so much more skilled at Muggle fighting than Draco and often tried to block instead of trade blows with the blond when he was like this, but sometimes Draco could be as stubborn and thick as a fifteen-year-old Ron.
�Draco, I�m telling you now, stop!� Harry tried again, ducking a right hook from Draco, only to be caught by a massive left uppercut, which made Harry bite into his own tongue. That fucking left was going to be the death of him one day, Harry thought.
That was it. Harry pivoted and grabbed Draco from behind, pinning the blond�s flailing fists to his sides as he wrapped his arms around him tightly, placing Draco�s thin frame in a vice-like bear hug.
Draco banged the back of his head into Harry�s nose, hoping to break it. When he failed, Harry kicked out a foot and slammed both their bodies into the floor, with Draco pinned face down and Harry an immovable weight on his back.
Blinded by anger and lust, his heart thumping like a heard of wild mustangs, Harry ripped Draco�s robes from his body, the sound of ripping fabric and harsh breathing the only sounds in the room.
�You push me!� was the garbled communication Draco heard come from between what he could tell were Harry�s clenched teeth.
Draco arched upward, whether in an effort to make the removal of clothing easier or to buck off Harry he did not know. The blond let out a shaky sob, his heart at war with his loins. It never fucking failed. He and Harry would have an epic row, often over something that Draco had blown completely out of proportion, only to end up angry and horny. Their anger in these rare yet significant moments, not at all unlike that of their schoolboy days, was clouded with a need to dominate and sometimes humiliate.
�Who the fuck do you think you are, calling me a liar?!� Harry growled into Draco�s ear, placing one large hand around the back of Draco�s neck, holding the blond in place on the floor as he continued roughly undressing his lover.
Draco�s fists relaxed as he felt Harry shift above as he used his unoccupied hand to yank Draco�s trousers down to his calves. The feel of his naked ass exposed to the comparatively cool air in the room made Draco groan and almost involuntarily buck up towards Harry for warmth.
He heard the buckle of Harry�s belt being undone and the lowering of his zipper. Draco closed his eyes, unwilling to face the reality of what was happening. Harry was going to take him in anger�anger the brunet had tried desperately to quell. What was even more frightening was that Draco wanted him to do so. More than anything at this very moment he wanted the burn and pain of rough sex, the bitter sting of forceful lovemaking.
�You push me too far, Draco. Too fucking far!� Harry said, a low growl emanating from his throat as he felt Draco shift and part his long, slender legs farther apart in silent capitulation, and perhaps consent.
Harry pulled his own rarely used wand and conjured some lubricant, coating his cock, which by now was so hard it could skewer a small animal. He pointed the wand at Draco�s opening, casting nonverbally. Draco let out a gasp of surprise, not expecting the stretching charm. Tears continued to seep slowly out of Draco�s eyes as Harry entered him in one swift thrust, his arousal betraying the pain he felt in his heart at the sight of Harry and Max locked in an embrace, looking like perfect lovers. Max was so attractive and Draco could no longer fool himself as to the man�s appeal. To think, he had almost had the life he wanted, a life with Harry as his very own, his only. To be Harry�s only.
Harry thrust determinedly inside Draco, lowering so that his torso met Draco�s sweaty back and his lower abdominal muscles rubbed along the creamy skin of the blond�s upper buttocks with each forward thrust. He rucked up Draco�s shirt so that he could lick along the ridge of that perfectly straight spine that carried his lover with such grace.
The friction of the rug against his own aching member caused Draco to bite his lip, in an effort to stem his cries of pleasure. Even in his anger, Harry could be a deadly accurate lover, maneuvering inside Draco as though he had been given a map that led only to his most sensitive places. Then, the speaking began. At first it was just filthy, lustful words spat angrily in Draco�s ear, making him whimper desperately for more. Then, as Harry neared his climax, his rhythm slowed and his thrusts became strong and deep as he spoke in measured tones, threading his own strong, calloused fingers through Draco�s smooth, manicured digits.
�We were saying goodbye, Dray. Goodbye to the life we used to have. That�s all. It was just goodbye. It�s only you, babe. Now and always.�
Tears flowed faster, in time with the way his cock rubbed against the carpet beneath him, as Draco cried. He cried for his own undoing, his own vulnerability, his own ungodly need for Harry to continue dominating him so effortlessly. He cried because he realized that despite his anger, Harry was not a liar. Which sadly made Draco, once again, a victim of his own possessive madness.
A few more minutes of heavy copulating had them both erupting with pleasure, their bodies shivering and quaking as they released. Then came the shame.
Harry�s was expressed as tears of his own leaked from his eyes onto Draco�s bare back. Each teardrop that hit his skin seemed hot enough to scald in Draco�s cloudy mind, all the while the green-eyed wizard peppered sweet, soft kisses of apology all over the damp, porcelain skin covering Draco�s shivering back.
Draco shared his share of the shame, offering his own confession in a series of quiet sobs, as he reached back with a lax hand and rubbed along Harry�s outer thigh and buttocks, caressing and squeezing, offering absolution and his own apology for his unwarranted rage.
It wasn�t much longer before Harry rolled off him, pulling Draco�s rather limp form to lie on top of him. The blond curled into Harry�s side as he laid his head on Harry�s chest, their crumpled and tattered clothing Banished to the hamper.
�You�ve got to know�� Harry said cryptically, his face grave and worried.
Draco lifted up and looked into Harry�s eyes and replied equally as mystifying, �I�I do know. Now.�
It wasn�t long before Draco felt the pull of sleep, as his anger and shame finally ebbed. Harry, noticing the deep breathing patterns in his lover, Apparated them into the bed, where they slept like the dead, heedless of injury or pain, remorse or recrimination, only that they were in love and sometimes�sometimes love hurt.
******************

The following week passed in a blur. After their fight and subsequent patching up (both literal and figurative), Harry and Draco returned to the Manor. Given the state of affairs with the Class 5s, Draco refused to take any chances with their safety. The Manor was better protected than nearly any other property in Great Britain, and Draco had basically forbid Harry from even visiting any of their other properties until the situation was more in hand.

Gorem had committed suicide while in his cell. How the man had accomplished it without a wand or any other contraband that the Aurors could find made the whole thing rather suspect. Yet, until evidence could be found to the contrary, officially the death would be ruled a suicide. Everyone with half a brain knew it was bullshit, but since no one could prove otherwise, the file on Gorem was closed.

Avery remained at large. His private investigation office had been vacated and the address on his business license file had long since been sold and was now inhabited by a young married couple and their two kids.

The Ancient�s Ball, which had occurred just two evenings prior, did reveal some very promising leads, as both Max and Blaise were currently reporting while sitting in the main downstairs study of the Manor, sipping after-dinner drinks and smoking. Max was casually perusing the floor-to-ceiling bookcases, adding in the occasional comment to their discussions, all while puffing on a cigar, which made Draco heave, but he put up with it for Harry�s sake. Far more irritable was the man�s penchant for twenty-year-old Madeira, which Draco had to procure special as neither he nor Harry drank it. When they had all been a �thing� Harry had kept a bottle or two around, but once Max was no longer a steady bed partner Draco had the elves remove every trace of the man and any of his preferences from their residences.
Draco had since apologized to Max on his own accord, realizing that he had made quite a mess of things by his little display of bedlam at the Ministry. Harry had forgiven Draco without condition, but the Malfoy honor in him reminded Draco that it was only proper that he apologize to Max as well. Max had taken the apology graciously and confirmed for Draco that his advances had indeed been turned down by Harry. Not that Draco had needed the confirmation, but it made the sting to his pride at having to apologize all the more worth it, because he got to see the look of defeat on Max�s face. Draco had won, and while he was not so uncouth as to gloat outright, the overjoyed sparkle in his stormy gray eyes pronounced his victory loud and clear to anyone who could see.

�Joseph Guillmere is someone you should dig into, Harry,� Blaise said, toking on a joint as he lounged casually on the burgundy leather sofa that had once been Draco�s great-grandfather�s. The new young Lord Malfoy had removed all traces of Lucius from the study, with the exception of the large mahogany writing desk and a few priceless tomes lining the bookshelves.

�Why?� Harry asked, taking a sip of his brandy.

Max and Blaise shared a look, which Draco caught, before Blaise responded, �His rhetoric.�

�What about his rhetoric?� Draco inquired.

�His politics are�radical,� Blaise said thoughtfully. �And he had the old-timer purebloods eating out of the palm of his hand.�

�And just what are his politics?� Harry interjected.

�Well at first glance it sounds like your typical pureblood stuff: back to tradition, exclude Muggle-borns from positions of power, retool and strengthen the barriers between Muggle world and wizarding world, blah, blah,� Blaise explained, waving the hand holding his joint negligently in the air to emphasize the humdrum aspect of it all.

�And when one takes a closer listen?� Harry persisted.

Blaise went very quiet and still; his brow furrowed and his eyes became almost as fearful as Draco had ever seen them. The blond doubted either Harry or Max could pick up on the subtle signs, but Draco had known Blaise since they were children, and he knew that few things actually scared Blaise, but the things that did scared the hell out Draco as well.

�If you listen closely you can hear the echoes of a wizarding past at its most medieval and most dominating. If you listen closely you can hear all the things Voldemort and his ilk supported, only coming from Guillmere it all sounds so benign�and logical,� Blaise said quietly, only the slight warble in his voice betrayed his composure.

Max cleared his throat and set his own glass down carefully on the shelf of a nearby bookcase before rejoining the conversation.

�One idea of Guillmere�s that is gaining ground concerns his ideas about Muggle-borns and their entry into the wizarding world. If Guillmere were in a position of power, he would require any Muggle-born wizard or witch who chose to enter the wizarding world to take an Unbreakable Vow promising not to discuss their magic with any Muggle, even their own mother or father. In the event that the family already knows about the magical member, which more often than not they do, then the family would be Obliviated and implanted with the false memory of sending their child off to a prestigious prep school on scholarship in a distant land. As it is now, Muggle parents can join their children when shopping for school supplies in Diagon Alley at the start of the school terms. That would end immediately. The child would be basically ripped from the family once they decided to come into the wizarding world. The Muggle-born would then be on a restricted visitation schedule to their Muggle family, basically something akin to once per year only after they have been granted a timed visa of sorts. Once the Muggle-born became an adult, the rules would continue.�

After Max�s explanation the four men sat in stunned silence. The significance of such a potential law was not lost on any of them, most of all Harry. All he had fought for� everything they had all fought to uphold� was once more at risk.

Harry finally spoke to the room at large, although his eyes remained fixed on nothing as he ran a hand lazily back and forth across the polished surface of a side table.
�He�d lock us all up and throw away the key, it seems.�

Blaise let out a deep breath at Harry�s distracted, though spot-on, assessment.
�You have to understand, Harry, there are still those who think that is precisely what should be done,� Blaise stated. �There are still those who think we should leave the Muggle-borns to fend for themselves amongst the Muggles. Those who believe this do not care that in the past, when such practices existed, Mugggle-borns were burned at the stake, locked away in asylums, ostracized and hunted down, often by their own non-magical kin. There was a time when if a baby was even suspected of having magical ability it was put to death shortly after birth. The Muggles would think the child possessed by the devil or some kind of demon spirit. Wild, uncontrolled magic in infancy is quite common in magical children, yet Muggles would act as though the apocalypse was upon them at the sight of an infant Summoning its own bottle from a nearby table. The hysteria was unbelievable. It�s one of the reasons such ideology tracks amongst the old guard. They grew up hearing bedtime stories about the persecution of magical kind at the hands of Muggles. So, Guillmere�s ideas are not at all foreign to most purebloods.�
Harry didn�t respond, he just cut his eyes as Blaise and nodded. Harry knew the reasons for such beliefs; he knew his history. Hermione had browbeaten him with more history books than he could count during the last few years of the war. Still, ideas like Guillmere�s were dangerous. They threatened to set the progress the wizarding world had made back a thousand years. No one would dispute that Muggle-borns came into the wizarding world at a disadvantage. They knew nothing of wizarding traditions, codes of behavior, history, and on and on. Yet, that is what education was for. Blind fear of something never did anyone any good as far as Harry could tell.
After a moment Blaise looked to Dodd. �And you�you, my friend, scare the hell out of them. With your Haitian roots where there are no barriers between the worlds, and the ease with which you slide between the Muggle and magical worlds. You, although pureblood, are seen as a traitor, an�opportunist of the worse kind. They see Haiti as an anomaly, a wild bastion without �proper wizards�.�
Dodd just nodded and smirked, knowing that there were many who did not approve of the way he conducted business with the Muggles. That he was accepted if not welcomed, yet looked upon with a jaundiced eye, by European pureblood society was not news to the dark-skinned wizard.
�And this Guillmere, you think he has his sights set on political office?� Draco asked, his eyes shifting between Blaise and Max.
�He didn�t come right out and say so at the ball, but amongst the blooded he is being touted as the next big thing in the political arena,� Max said, to which Blaise nodded slowly.
�But many of the oldest purebloods didn�t exactly support Voldemort,� Draco said, his mind working in overdrive to digest it all. �I remember that it infuriated my father that many of them remained ideologically supportive of Voldemort, but not his methods. Father�s view was that if they believed the wizarding world was better off without Muggle-borns and half-bloods, then a little spilling of blood here and there to achieve the goal was acceptable.�
�That is correct,� Blaise agreed, before adding, �Still, the increase in Muggle-borns compared to that of the pureblood population has some of the old guard spooked and very uncomfortable about what our world may look like in another two decades. The combined population of Muggle-borns and half-bloods has nearly caught that of the pureblood population within our schools. It is estimated that roughly a third of the Ministry�s employees are Muggle-born. During a walk through Diagon Alley you will encounter as many wizards and witches in robes as there are in Muggle business suits and casual dress. Courtships and bonding traditions have fallen by the wayside, and fewer and fewer pureblood marriages are occurring. While these things seem to cause little harm, many purebloods can only see the inevitable decline of a culture, a civilization being swallowed by Muggleness.�

�You sound forlorn,� Harry growled when Blaise finished.
�Not at all, Harry, not at all. Merely explaining what you need to know. I don�t profess to not want to see some wizarding traditions carried on and celebrated, but you should know that I do not wish it at the expense of Muggle-borns or half-bloods.�
Max quickly interceded before Harry could grill Blaise further. �There�s more.�
Draco perked up at this and rose to refill Harry�s brandy. Just before he sat again he pivoted and in a surprising move, relit Max�s cigar, not bothering to acknowledge the surprise in the man�s eyes as he resumed his seat, motioning for Max to continue.
�Further plans of Guillmere�s include gentrifying the wizarding world, not only based on class, which is how it is at the moment, but also identifying settlements of sorts that would house magical creatures and beings. The idea is to separate them out from the human wizarding populace. Werewolves, giants, half-giants, and anyone else with even an iota of identifiable magical creature blood would be subjected to resettlement. Their rights would be even more severely limited than they are at present, and their children would be educated in a separate school. Marriage between a wizard and anyone with creature blood would be forbidden. According to Guillmere this would help purify the lines, including those of the creatures. It would force more wizard/witch matches. He didn�t outright speak against homosexual bondings, which have always existed in our world, but I wouldn�t put it past his line of reasoning.�

�This is madness,� Harry whispered, his face crumpling in unexpressed anger.

Draco just looked pale and slightly mortified, while Blaise�s skin had gone a little ashen. Max and Harry were the only two who just seemed incensed.

Finally Blaise added, �The danger with someone like Guillmere is that he is so non-threatening. He�s not Voldemort, Harry. Hell, he reminds me eerily enough of Lucius. He is handsome, charming� makes you eat out of the palm of his hand�and he couches everything in a very logical, levelheaded manner. I witnessed him at the ball holding court, and let me tell you, the man is cool as fucking ice. Even when a few wizards challenged his ideological arguments he just smiled and nodded, as though he took their concerns to heart, before carrying on with his point. By the end of the night he had many of the blooded looking at him like he was the second coming of Merlin. And what�s worse, his chief-patron-ass-kisser is none other than Chief Warlock, Addius Corme.�
The flames in the hearth flickered higher briefly and Draco looked over at Harry to see his lover down the last of his brandy in one gulp. He could tell Harry was trying to remain loose, mentally flexible on all fronts. Yet, the information about this Guillmere character had the small muscles of Harry�s jaw clenching, and Draco could tell by Harry�s rigid posture that his lover was more than a little concerned by what had been shared amongst them tonight. So, it was no real surprise when Harry rose from his chair and stalked over to Blaise and said, �Tell me more.�

Ch 16 is in the works, even as I post. Wanna see it? (*smirks, evilly*)
- 15
- 16
- 17
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Political Axes