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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
- 16
- 17
- 18
Draco stared down into the potion sitting idly on his desk. It was dark green in color, like mud with grass blended in, the thickness of it evident without even tipping the phial sideways. He pursed his lips as he debated it, his fingers tapping out on his desk as his eyes wandered over to the note laying open beside it.
Take on an empty stomach. Be sure to clear the area in case of a fall.
That was all it said. Short, concise, and right to the point - much like the Obliviator who had written it. Draco liked that, the unease rolling through his stomach taking a small comfort in the blatant attitude shining through on the parchment. He had spent the entire last two days with the professional memory erasers, lying on a hard bed as they magically probed his brain and asked him question after question until everything started bleeding together in a surreal sort of haze - all in hopes of retrieving his stolen time.
Yet it was all for not. They weren't able to turn up anything. Apparently whoever had erased his memories had done a spectacular job, there wasn't even a trace of residual memory left over for the Obliviators (and a few Unspeakables if those men with far too erect postures were as he guessed) to work with. He had been released that morning, his feet tiredly trudging up from the depths of the Ministry and back to his own department - his chair a welcomed sight as his tired and spent body fell into it.
He had then promptly passed out due to sheer exhaustion only to wake sometime later with his back and neck aching to find the potion waiting for him.
"Bugger." He grumbled, angling his neck sharply to the side till he heard a tiny pop and felt a modicum of relief - he hated feeling stiff, his muscles bound so tightly he feared they would snap and sever without much effort at all. Of course the physical pain was nowhere near what his head felt like, his very brain feeling like someone had been scrubbing over it with a toothbrush and floss, picking at the crevices and looking for a disease that was so well hidden that it would never see the light of day.
What he needed was to go home and go to bed and get some proper sleep - but instead here he was, nowhere nearer his memories or the murderer or Astoria and staring at a vile looking concoction that he was apparently supposed to drink.
"Did I just see Obliviator Candon leaving?" Damaris asked in her trilling voice as she poked her head in the door without so much as a curtsey knock.
Draco nodded as his fingers pressed into his temple. "Indeed." His voice scratched on his throat and he frowned, Merlin he even sounded like he felt.
"Classy man that one." She smiled at him, her piercing gaze jumping down to the phial and then back up to him, her middle finger pressing the bridge of her spectacles back in place. "Need help moving your desk?"
A smile twitched on Draco's lips as he shook his head, not even bothering to wonder how she could possibly know what the concoction was for. That was just part of Damaris's charm, it was very much like working with a part seer and part barmy blind bat who indulged a tad too much in grog. "I'll manage."
Damaris blinked and adjusted her glasses again in an odd sort of acknowledgment. "Mhmm. Well, you were requested for a new case while you were out."
Draco sat up straighter at that, his head cocking in question. "Oh?"
"Yes, something...oh something about rubbish bins...no...teapots..."
"Teapots?" Draco lifted an eyebrow, the brief pulse of excitement melting back away. Not that he had time to take on a new case anyway, he was already drowning in his current one and very behind on the other two artifacts he was supposed to be drawing up reports for.
"Fascinating bit of magic. It seems that if its user were to try brewing oolong in it then they'd shrink to the size of a pin." She was gazing waveringly at the wall just over his head as she spoke, her voice getting misty as her mind was drawn elsewhere. "Took days for the Auror's to find him."
"You took the case then I assume?" Draco held back a chuckle as he watched her sway in his doorframe, her small stature fitting perfectly beneath it.
"Yes of course, Mr. Potter insisted."
Draco felt something flutter in his stomach at the mention of the Auror, his cheeks heating without his consent. "Did he?" He cleared his throat and suddenly wished for a glass of water to appear before him.
"A touch feverish dear?" Damaris stepped towards him.
"Not at all." He tried his best to smile at her in a completely non-revealing manner but he feared he failed terribly in her eyes.
"Good, good. I'll just leave you two alone then."
"Sorry what?" Draco stared at her in incomprehension as he finally managed to get the butterflies in his stomach to calm the hell down.
"Bye dear," she smiled and waved with a flopping wrist before spinning around. "Hello Mr. Potter, lovely day isn't it? Best abandon the robes." She said in a singsong way before her willowy frame was swaying out of sight.
"Erm..." Potter mumbled awkwardly after her as he appeared in Draco's doorway, his neck craned as he stared after Draco's coworker - giving the blonde all of two seconds to adjust to the sight of him in his Auror uniform with the clasps of his robes undone so the fabric hung loose and open around him before he turned to face him. "Hi." He grinned, his hands shoved deep in his trousers pockets, and effectively bringing the butterflies back with vengeance.
"Duck." Draco croaked out just as Potter was about to step inside.
"What - oh, thanks." He eyed the shrunken doorframe and slipped inside, his palm flat on the wood as he pressed the door closed behind him. "So, you're, um, you're back then?"
"It would seem so." Draco watched with apprehension growing thick in his veins as Potter neared his desk, he hadn't had a chance to see him since he jumped down the well and all that had come after that. The memory of that day made the blush spread over his skin like a fanning flame and Draco found that words were simply refusing to form, leaving him staring at Potter looking far too good in his damn uniform as the memory accosted him once more.
Though really, if he was honest, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since it happened - something that was horrifically embarrassing considering he had had a team of Obliviators plying through his mind. He was pretty sure the lot of them knew far too many details concerning him and Potter now - one of the younger members of the team had even giggled at him at one point.
Draco didn't like to pinpoint what exactly it was about that day that wouldn't leave him alone, he simply tried to chalk it up to the fact that he had never had sex quite like that before.
It was hard to say just what exactly was different about it, he wasn't sure he could fully articulate it if anyone deemed it necessary to ask. It wasn't messy and awkward like it had been during his first time when he was barely sixteen and had fumbled his way through it with some girl in his year that he could only vaguely remember. It wasn't anywhere near the odd sort of freeing high he had experienced during his first time with another man when he was twenty and trying to figure himself out in the new world around him that was still reeling from the war's repercussions. It wasn't even like the thrill and heart pounding moment he had first found Potter on his knees with the man's hands sweating on his hips or even like that night he had finally slipped inside him for the first time.
Potter had promised to show him how much Draco affected him and the blonde found that watching Potter's slow strip tease and the heated kisses he had bestowed upon him as he straddled his lap more erotic than anything he had yet to witness. He found himself feeling unsure and less confident of himself with his heart beating strangely fast as Potter had maneuvered them, laying himself back on the couch and gingerly pulling Draco down atop him with a shy little smile. He felt like he was about to tip over the edge of something undefinable as Potter rubbed himself against Draco's stomach, whispering in his ear how much he wanted him, how much he craved him, how he needed to have him inside him. Then there was a pressure behind his eyes as Potter had captured his lips once more and pressed down with his ankles on Draco's back, angling up as Draco eased his way inside his self-prepared hole.
He still didn't know how to deal with Potter gasping out against his mouth as he came to rest fully inside him or how to categorize the way the man had whimpered his name.
He couldn't fully describe the emotions that had gripped him so completely he found it hard to breathe as he kissed Potter softly with the man's legs hooked over his hips and his arms tight around Draco's back that was scattered with goosebumps despite the fact that he was burning from within. He could vividly remember how he felt himself stretching, like a gigantic ball of pent up feelings were being dragged out to consume him as he rocked steadily forward - tasting Potter's soft moans on his tongue and the individual touch of each of Potter's fingers curling into his skin making the damn moister prick at his eyes again.
He was pretty sure men didn't cry during sex and he had been adamant that the tears wouldn't be so bold as to actually leak down his cheeks. He still didn't even know why he felt like crying anyway. Sure Potter's quiet words that he had spoken every so often made them well something fierce and yes the way he had been kissed and held as he moved slowly in and out of the man's body was something he had never experienced before. Then there were the moments Draco's eyes would flutter open to find Potter staring up at him with an emotion that Draco had always insisted he had imagined witnessing before. Not to mention the way Potter said his name. He moaned it throatily before craning his neck to lock their lips together once more like Potter was bent on making sure their mouths were never apart for more than a few seconds.
It was tender and slow - nothing like how they usually came together. And it wasn't until it was over, with Potter holding him close and kissing him softly that Draco had even begun to realize what had just happened. It was a slow realization, like the very idea of it was reluctant to form in Draco's mind, the notion puttering along at a snail’s pace as they had finally dressed and made their way back to the office (and consequently Weasley's damn knowing smile). It started catching at his emotions and thoughts in sparks of light as Potter lingered in the office at the end of the day so they could walk to the Apparation point together - an invitation to accompany him home stuck on Draco's tongue as Potter was called away to the Minister's office.
It struck him like a bolt of lightning as he laid in bed trying to fall asleep, making his eyes round and his breath catch. He had waited for the terror to come and yet it only seemed to liberate him, he felt like a chisel had been chipping away at his chest and it had just managed to break off the hard jagged exterior - exposing something within that he hadn't even been aware was there and making him come face to face with things he vowed not to.
He didn't want Potter confined to any fucking boxes. He didn't want to wonder any longer how much of Potter was his. He didn't want to share the man. And though he still felt splintered, caught between something he couldn't seem to get a handle on with the case, he wanted Potter to be sure of him - wanted Potter to know that he already held in his hands all that Draco knew how to give and that he would no doubt find a way to pry open the rest of it (which was rather terrifying and the most blatant reason he didn't want to think on his new revelation).
Now he just needed to figure out how to tell Potter, something he had absolutely no experience in - relationships were not typically his cup of tea. He tended to get in and out quickly, never sticking around long enough to see the day his companion would start to disdain him, cutting it loose before his linage could sour anything. Because he knew it would - it may not be a hideous snake and skull anymore but no one could pretend for long that they didn't know what the scar on his forearm was.
"Were they able to retrieve your memories?" Potter asked as he came around the desk, propping his hip against the wood.
Draco shook his head as he jolted back to the present. "No, they were unsuccessful."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Potter said sincerely as Draco turned his chair to face him fully, his hands itching to reach forward and touch - the strong curve of Potter wrist with his palm planted on the desk begging to be grasped. He loved Potter's hands, the lines that marred them telling story after story of his life, loved the strength they held, loved the way they touched him like Draco was something priceless.
"We knew the likely hood was slim." His limbs felt heavy as he contemplated the space between them, only a small gap but at the moment it seemed like miles - because there was nothing to hide the movement in. No argument, no beat of music, no drinks to ease the way, no danger, there was nothing but a fierce desire to kiss him once more.
"What's this?" Potter motioned to the phial.
"Last ditch effort." Draco eyed the foul potion once more, already knowing deep in his heart that it was useless, that drinking it down wouldn't bring to light anything. But he would do it anyway because he simply couldn't let any lead fall to the wayside no matter how small and insignificant.
"Will you take it now?"
"In a moment. Potter, I -" Draco sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck and the ache that throbbed there. "About the other day." Potter's smile faded into a barely noticeable frown, his lips set straight with the smallest downward curve in the right corner. "I'm not - what I mean to say is -" Draco rushed to finish, his heart pounding violently against his ribcage as he searched for the right words. "I wanted you to know that I - bugger." His hands clenched on the armrests as he bit into his tongue, his face flushed scarlet, his mouth as useless as an uneducated imbecile. But he had absolutely no clue how to say it, he only knew that he needed to.
Potter was silent, contemplating him with his index finger tapping gently on the desk. "Draco-"
"Close your eyes." He interrupted him, standing abruptly with confusion flickering through Potter's emerald eyes as Draco came to stand directly before him. "Please." He added softly as he reached forward and slipped his fingers over the top of Potter's on the wooden desktop, the muted but sharp inhale of Potter's breath pulling a smile from his lips.
Potter's back straightened as he sunk back against the desk till he was perched on its ledge and closed his bright eyes. It was the simplest testament of trust between them, Potter's eyesight taken willing from him as Draco pressed one step closer, sliding his hand around Potter's waist as his other one curled around Potter's fingers. He breathed in Potter's familiar scent, remembering how the man had admitted to wanting to wake up beside him every morning, the idea making his nerves flutter in both fright and anticipation.
He would never know how he had managed to win Potter, though he could guess that the Prophet would have more than their fair share of unsavory theories once their entanglement started to leak out. He imagined people would say that he had somehow ensnared their savior. That he had used dark magic on him to capture his heart. That he had tricked their beloved hero into his bed. He dipped his head and brushed his lips so very lightly over Potter's.
People might even start hexing him in the street more often.
Pulling back before he could get lost in Potter's taste and feel, he moved till he was sitting beside him on the desk, smiling to himself as he caught the other man quickly licking his bottom lip. His own eyes slipped closed as he situated himself, squeezing the hand he still held. He felt a little silly, two grown men sitting side by side on his desk with their eyes closed, but needs must and Draco needed the shroud of pretend invisibility. "Potter...I - I will never like the majority of your friends." He said quickly, Potter's corresponding chuckle vibrating down through their joined hands.
"I don't expect you to." He whispered, his thumb moving to caress the back of Draco's wrist.
"Quiet please." Draco admonished, knowing he needed the other man's silence if he was to get through with this. "I absolutely loath Ginevra and I doubt that will ever change. Granger will most likely always feel the need to analyze me and therefor I doubt I'll ever be able to really speak openly with her. I despise Ministry fundraisers and will be a poor date if you force me. I hog the covers. And not a little. You might have to have your own separate blanket but I may end up stealing that one too. Especially if it starts to smell like you. I love my job and sometimes work through the night and will get violently upset if you try to interrupt me needlessly. Pansy is completely mental and crass and horribly rude but I love her and won't tolerate poor treatment of her. On the other hand you can torment Blaise all you see fit, he can stand on his bloody own. I get tetchy if there isn't any coffee in the morning so best not drink the last of it and I have a slightly unhealthy chocolate addiction. I won't change that so don't ask. People sometimes still call me a Death Eater and hex me when my back is turned. It’s best to ignore it and I don't want to have to worry about you punching random people on the street because of it. I still own the Manor. I won't sell it but I don't expect you to ever set foot in it either. I am fiercely possessive and jealous and I won't tolerate any other hands on you. If you are mine then you are all mine."
"Draco-" Potter said softly as he took a pausing breath.
"I'm not finished." Draco muttered, his chest painfully tight and his palms starting to sweat. "I would be a horrible boyfriend and in truth have never really been one before. We'll most likely fight all the fucking time but seeing as that only seems to make me want to fuck you, well...that could either be a good or bad thing. Probably bad. Basically this is going to end in disaster but I...I don't care anymore because the thought of you with anyone else makes me ill and would probably result in murder. And I don't want to go to Azkaban, it's terribly rancid there..." He trailed off, his throat dry and his tongue sticky as all his words hung in the air around them, like a million little pins just waiting to drop.
It was horribly silent for much too long.
A gentle hand touched his cheek, fingers that were warm and steady as Potter let out a long breath. "Can I speak now?" He asked hesitantly and as Draco nodded his consent with his eyes still tightly closed he swore he could somehow feel Potter's answering smile just as much as he could feel Potter's gaze on his face. "So what you're saying is that you want to be with me? Exclusively?"
"Yes." Draco breathed out.
"You want to be my boyfriend?" Potter clarified.
"A ridiculous turn of phrase but yes, in essence."
"Would partner be better?" Potter asked, his lips caressing over the shell of Draco's ear and sending a shiver down his spine.
"Moderately." Draco conceded, giving into the pulse thrumming through him and turning his head until he found Potter's lips with his own, capturing them in a heated kiss as his hand curled sharply around the edge of the wood beneath them. "Do you agree then?"
The desk shifted and creaked as Potter scooted closer, his hands fisting in the front of Draco's black robes and using them to haul him forward. "I think I already made my position on that clear." He grinned, licking Draco's lips between kisses. "Though I might not be able to keep from punching anyone who hexes your back, I'm rather possessive myself you see."
"Oh?" He felt light as a feather as Potter's strong hands gripped him, the action sizzling with that apparent possessiveness, echoing Potter's words and making Draco spin into delirium. He cursed the need for air and their ability to still form words as all it was doing was severing his mouth from Potter's.
"Mhmm." Potter hummed with their tongues twined together. "You good with that?"
Draco nodded and then proceeded to snog Potter breathless in the middle of the day at the Ministry with the vile potion mere inches behind them and on the cusp of spilling all over the place on more than one occasion. It felt liberating, having the man so solid in his arms with his taste flooding his tongue and knowing that he didn't have to stop, that he didn't have to file the encounter away and pretend.
So when Potter muttered against his lips to call him Harry, Draco did. When Harry told him that he wanted him, Draco didn't even bother to ward the door before he was back in his chair with the dark haired Auror straddling his lap. When he felt a weight crushing his chest he didn't waste his time over-analyzing it, he just cupped the back of Harry's neck and kissed him once more, swallowing his gasp as the man's own weight lowered him onto Draco's prick. When Harry shuddered and whispered how perfect it felt Draco couldn't keep his tongue still - he told him things he shouldn't have, letting his heart bare on his sleeve, open and in place to be slaughtered. Yet he didn't care.
Sure it was most likely going to end in disaster.
Sure Draco would most likely end up with his heart broken into a million tiny little pieces.
But for now Potter was being his hero, leaping in without any regard to the future consequences it may hold and for once Draco found himself willingly following - because drowning in bliss with Potter for a moment was far better than living forever without it.
****
He had been right - the potion did taste like something had died in it and it did absolutely nothing except make him faint in the middle of his office and give him a foul taste in his mouth.
The only upside was Potter - Harry - was there and when Draco came back to a moment later it was to find himself cradled in the raven haired man's arms - a look of deep concern marring his handsome face. It also apparently gave Potter - damn it, Harry - an excuse to hold him much too tightly as he kissed him. Though perhaps they didn't need excuses for things like that anymore. Not that Draco knew exactly how having a relationship with a previous rival turned coworker turned secret lover turned partner was supposed to go.
But random kisses did seem likely enough to occur, it was Potter - oh fuck it, he didn't think it would ever get easy to call him Harry - after all. Sappy Gryffindor git, he was acting like something had actually happened to Draco instead of just a powerful punch of ineffective memory restoration potion. Not that he was planning on complaining because Merlin Potter's mouth was amazing - his hands somehow haven gotten tangled in the man's hair by their own volition as desire thrummed sharply through him.
"Oh Merlin's fucking balls."
Draco's vision swam as Potter pulled back abruptly, nearly dumping him from his lap - well not lap exactly, more like his knees but close enough - which for some completely odd reason made him feel like laughing which in turn made him wonder if perhaps the potion had been laced with more than he thought.
"Ron." Potter gasped as Draco jerked himself into a sitting position, wrinkling his nose at the slow movement of his limbs. Well wasn't that just great, the blasted potion was making his blood feel like damn sludge and in effect making him feel something akin to a sloth - it would be a miracle if he could make it to his feet without embarrassment.
"Rules Harry!" Weasley snapped, using one hand to shield his face like he was afraid they'd start ripping each other’s clothes off.
"Rules?" Draco inquired, brushing the hair form his forehead as he discreetly tried to make it lie in place instead of looking like a bad replica of Potter's. Though really that was foolhardy on several levels, firstly because he doubted there was any hope for it and secondly because judging from the scarlet color of his skin Weasley already had a pretty good idea of what they had been getting up to.
"We weren't in our office and you barged in!" Potter scoffed, picking himself up off the floor and offering a helping hand down to the blonde who eyed it disdainfully.
Yet in all honestly he wasn't altogether sure he could make it to his feet without the help so with a mild sneer he grasped the man's wrist and grumbled to himself as he was yanked to his feet. "What rules?" He repeated, knowing he was missing something. Like why Weasley wasn't so much as shocked to find them snogging as he was mad that Potter had apparently broken some previously per-agreed upon rules.
About him. And Potter. Together. Oh god, Potter really did tell his redhead everything it seemed. Pansy would be sickly jealous.
"Erm." Potter muttered, shuffling his feet in a very guilty manner.
"Seriously mate, shag all you want, you two are way more tolerable when you do but I don't want to see it." Weasley peaked at them from between his fingers and after being apparently appeased with the distance between them and the fact that they were fully clothed, dropped his hand back to his side.
"When we do?" Draco repeated, appalled with the notion of Weasley being able to tell when they had been intimate. That was just humiliating.
Potter shot him a look that was straddling an odd line of exasperated and embarrassed before turning back fully towards Weasley. "Is there something you needed?" He asked tersely.
And Draco was just about to pipe in and demand Potter explain these previously unknown rules - and honestly how could their already be rules? They had only been made official an hour ago - when Weasley's reasoning for barging in left all three of them cold and staring at the other in a mix of emotions that felt like they were sure to trample from Draco's body and leave him a bloody mess on the floor.
Olivia, the girl in the hospital, was gone
- 16
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- 18
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A Vicious Tangle (Complete)