Elurot Det Alsmai

Harry woke up to carried whispers sounding from above him. He moaned as the bump on his forehead began to throb dully in harmony with the buzzing of the voices. He went to move his hand to rub his head, only to find they were secured behind his back. He turned his head and found Malfoy beside him. Their captors must have searched his and Malfoy’s bodies for their wands, and even if they tried to Summon them, the charm wouldn’t work.

“Oh, look, he’s awake.” Harry heard a voice growl from nearby. He slowly lifted his head to see who was speaking when his hair was grabbed and his head yanked back, causing stars to burst in his line of sight, and a hiss of pain to pass his lips.

“Leave him alone, he doesn’t know anything!” Harry heard Malfoy growl from nearby as he struggled against his bonds. He almost wanted to sob in relief when his hair was just as suddenly released.

He heard Malfoy gasp and turned with some difficulty to see what caused it. He assumed one of the men--who Harry didn’t recognise--had backhanded Malfoy across the face, if the slight red mark was anything to go by. “We’ll decide who knows what, not you,” the man snapped, moving away from them.

Harry turned as much as his restraints would allow, trying to follow the movements of the men, hoping neither of the two would suddenly do something painful … or worse.

“What’s the plan, Edgar?” one man asked. Harry didn’t know what they were talking about, but he knew it might help Kingsley and the others if they found out as much as they could, keeping track of their physical features, personalities and such. He hoped Malfoy was doing the same.

The man named Edgar crossed his arms and glared down at Harry and Draco. “The boss said to keep them here until he arrives. But you know the boss, Jeff,” Edgar said, leering in their direction. “Likes to take his time. So what do you say we have a bit of fun with these two?”

Harry kept his face expressionless, but he couldn’t help but wonder what the two men had in mind. Torture? Beatings? He might own a fetish shop, specialising in bondage and discipline toys, but that was for fun. This, he knew, would be anything but. He turned his head towards Malfoy, trying to gauge his reaction; it seemed he had the same thoughts running through his head as Harry had, if his expression and body language was anything to go by.

“Edgar,” the other man, Jeff, said worriedly, “you know what the boss would do to us if we touched them. I don’t know about you, mate, but I’m not taking the chance.”

Edgar hummed a moment before nodding. “There is that,” he replied thoughtfully. “We can’t touch them, but there’s nothing saying they can’t touch each other, right?”

Jeff seemed to be thinking this over, before a smirk graced his lips. “Yes, quite.”

As if they planned it, they faced Harry and Draco as one. Harry frowned at the lustful looks dancing across both men’s faces, not liking where this was going. He wracked his brain, trying to work out what they were thinking. What are they planning? he thought, eyeing the two men warily. I don’t like the looks they’re giving us. Is Malfoy noticing this too? He glanced sidelong at the blond man beside him, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking; his expression only showed anger. Wait a minute. Do they expect us to…? After coming to a conclusion about what could have put those looks on the faces of their captors, Harry’s eyes suddenly widened in alarm. “No!”

Draco looked at Potter like he’d suddenly lost his mind. “What?” he whispered fiercely, watching the men from the corner of his eye.

“They’re going to make us shag!” Harry replied in alarm, not looking at the blond, using all his might to try and break out of the restraints with no luck. No way was he going to shag Malfoy. He may not have been bad looking, but he drew the line at exhibitionism, especially when the viewers were two psychotic wankers!

“What?!” Draco cried indignantly, whipping his head around to glare at their smirking captors. “There’s no way in bloody hell I’m shagging either of you … bastards!” He began twisting, trying fiercely to undo his bonds with no success.

“We don’t care what you want, blondie,” Edgar snapped, advancing on them. “Besides, it’s not us you’ll be shagging.”

“Then who or what…?” Draco asked apprehensively, hoping the men didn’t decide to bring in a dog or something equally dreadful.

“Him,” Jeff replied simply, pointing to Harry, who’d remained quiet as he stared in fury at the two men.

“Even worse,” Draco muttered darkly, getting a glower from Potter in return.

Edgar shrugged. “Fine, then; have it your way.” He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry, viciously growling, “Crucio!”

Harry screamed, feeling the bonds cutting into his jerking wrists, his body thrashing about. The pain was unbearable, his vision, going red, as his body felt like it was on fire; he wanted nothing more than to die, right here, right now. He’d experienced the curse many times before in his short life, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Draco, meanwhile, closed his eyes tightly, wincing at the screams coming from Potter. He was stronger than this; he would not let these madmen dictate whom he shagged and didn’t shag. Especially, not while the two men watched him, goading him on while they had their little wankfest.

Sweat poured in rivulets from his face, his breath coming out in harsh puffs as Draco worked feverishly at his restraints, but to no avail: they were too tightly wound around his wrists. He tried to block out Potter’s shrieking, but he just couldn’t. It hit too close to home, bringing old memories surging forward of You-Know-Who taking over his parents’ mansion, torturing his followers, threatening his mother and father.

Visions of having to watch people being tortured, even killed right in front of him, making him want to run; wishing he didn’t have to stay there with the Dark Lord and his followers, but having no choice. He had to, to ensure no harm came to his parents. Draco inwardly cringed as the past’s cries of the tortured faithful rang shrilly in his ears … and now there was Potter’s joining the chorus.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. “Stop! Stop, I’ll do it, just stop!”

Harry was on the cusp of blacking out, voice going raw from screaming, body aching from the tight ball he kept curling and uncurling from. He almost cried in relief when the curse was suddenly removed after Malfoy shouted.

“Thought that might change your mind,” Edgar hissed, twirling his wand in his hand thoughtlessly before pointing it at Harry. “I want him on his knees, face to the floor. Don’t worry about removing your clothes all the way. Down around the ankles will do fine, I think.”

Harry took slow, deep breaths to relax his muscles, which had cramped up due to the curse’s effects. He’d heard everything the others had said, and was cursing that they had been caught. It wasn’t that he thought Malfoy was ugly, far from it, but this was no way for two people to have sex. Besides, they couldn’t even stand each other.

The shorter of the two, Jeff, waved his wand, removing Draco’s restraints. Draco immediately flinched away, curling himself into a ball, shivering, barely feeling the blood rushing back into his slightly numb wrists. He was lost in his own inner turmoil until he felt Potter brush up against his side, reflex causing him to recoil.

“Malfoy?” He heard Potter whisper softly down to him, and blinked as he came back to himself. He sat up slowly, turning to face the man next to him before he reached out to Potter, intent on removing his restraints. Draco froze, jerking back as a wand was pressed into his face.

“He stays tied. I’m sure you can work around that,” Edgar sneered, smirking down at him and Potter.

Draco glowered venomously at Edgar, hatred radiating off him, as he nodded. He reached for the fastenings to Potter’s trousers, face only a few inches from his. “I’m sorry, Potter,” Draco whispered softly, regret evident in his tone, hating what he was about to do.

Harry smiled sadly at Malfoy, feeling the sting of sweat in his eyes. “I understand. It’s all right, really,” he quietly replied, resigning himself to what was about to happen.

He closed his eyes as Malfoy unfastened his trousers, spreading the material open. Harry lifted his arse off the concrete floor, allowing for Malfoy to pull his trousers and boxers down around his ankles more easily.

Draco helped position Potter onto his knees, arse in the air, cheek pressed to the cold ground while his hands remained tied behind his back. As much as he hated Potter with a burning passion, he couldn’t help but be gentle as he made sure the ex-Gryffindor was as comfortable as possible.

Draco paused only a moment before removing his robes, and placing them to the side as he worked open his own trousers’ fastenings. He pulled them wide open, pushing them down his hips a little, and looked down at his semi-erect cock poking out. Draco wasn’t surprised his cock wasn’t very interested in what it’d be taking part in.

“Get on with it!” Edgar shouted impatiently.

Draco gasped and drew back as he felt the poke of a wand against his back. He didn’t want to do this, he wanted to scream, but he balled his fists in anger as he tried desperately to ignore Edgar’s prodding. Draco wanted to jump up and smash the arsehole’s face in. He wanted nothing more than to be back at the Ministry, filling out tedious paperwork and working on uneventful cases, not kneeling on the cold concrete ground of an abandoned building, staring down at Potter’s form. He didn’t care if he was a wizard and physical fighting was beneath him, he was just so … angry.

Their imprisoners were making him violate Potter. No matter how much he may have disliked Potter during their school years together, that didn’t mean he wanted to rape him.

Harry closed his eyes, waiting for Malfoy to hurry up and get it over with. He couldn’t believe they’d got themselves into this situation with no way to contact the other Aurors. They couldn’t make a run for it while their captors still had their wands, pointing their own at them, the Killing Curse just an utterance away, waiting to snuff them out.

Draco couldn’t help the blush that blossomed across his cheeks, knowing that he and Potter had an audience. He tore his gaze from Potter’s raised arse, glaring at their captors’ smirking faces. “I’m going to need some type of lube, if you two want this to happen—” he snarled, nostrils flaring in fury.

“He doesn’t need any,” Edgar laughingly replied. “Just shove it in.”

Draco narrowed his eyes, lips pursing in anger. He turned back to Potter, trying to think of something else he could use: he wasn’t about to shove his dry cock into him. The only thing Draco could think to use made him want to throw something across the room, but he couldn’t do that without making the situation worse, so he scooted forward on his knees, trying hard not to stare at Potter’s waiting arse, and concentrated on putting everything but themselves out of his mind. He leaned down, hesitating a moment, until he felt a sharp kick to his booted foot from one of the men. Steeling his resolve, Draco moved closer, sticking his tongue out.

Harry didn’t know what was going on inside Malfoy’s mind to make him shift behind him, taking his time as if he had nothing better to do than to linger. He knew their imprisoners were watching them avidly, most likely leering at them from where they stood.

But he couldn’t help the sudden gasp that escaped his lips at the sensation of the first tentative lick along his exposed arse. He shut his eyes tightly as he felt Malfoy poking his tongue inside, thrusting it deeper and deeper as far as it could go. Feeling his hole being stretched wide by two fingers, pulling in opposite directions. He felt his cock harden at the stimulation, his nerve endings on fire as the ring of muscle was sucked into the blond’s mouth, occasional nips that were driving Harry wild.

He felt Malfoy nudging his cheeks apart as he continued his relentless licking, moistening him for what was to come. A few times, he caught himself pushing back against Malfoy’s tongue, moaning and panting at the sensations running through his body—he couldn’t help himself, it felt so good, even though it left him feeling hollow.

Draco continued to mouth Potter’s hole, making a face occasionally at the bitter taste that assaulted his tongue on each pass. He felt even more humiliated than he had been at finding himself getting hard just from this act alone. He finally pulled back once he deemed the dark-haired man as ready as he was likely going to become.

He wanted to throw up, preferably on the two men watching them, as he heard the distinct sound of zips being lowered; he just knew, without having to look up, that they were getting off on watching them. Draco cupped his hand under his mouth and spat into it, bringing his hand down to his cock.

Draco fisted his cock with his spit-soaked hand, getting it as slick as he could. He raised his hand to Potter’s arse, wiping what was left of his saliva along his hole, adding the extra lubrication there to hopefully ease his way. Draco moved his body even closer to the other man’s, and took hold of his cock once more, stroking it a few times before using his hand to guide himself to Potter’s opening.

Harry held his breath as he felt Malfoy push his way inside, past the tight ring of muscle, trying to force the intruder back out. Harry was no virgin, but he wasn’t a slut who whored himself out to any man with a thick cock and a winning smile. Because of this, he grimaced, grunting out in pain as Malfoy pushed himself in until his sac was nestled against Harry’s arse.

Draco paused for only a moment before he began to move, slowly and steadily, trying not to hurt Potter. He didn’t want to do this, but he’d been ordered by Shacklebolt to keep the man safe, and right now he was failing that duty.

“I didn’t say make love to him,” Edgar snapped. “Fuck him! Go on!”

Draco’s grip on Potter’s hips tightened at this. He leaned over, hearing Potter gasp as his cock shifted inside of him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered down at him.

“I can take it. Just do it and get it over with,” Harry whispered back.

Harry took a shaky breath as he felt Malfoy begin to pick up speed as his thrusts grew harder and faster. Harry felt Malfoy tighten his hold, almost hard enough to bruise, pulling him back each time the blond thrust forward.

Draco clutched Potter’s hips as he continued to set his bruising pace, snapping his hips forward, connecting loudly, sac slapping against sac. His thrusting became more desperate with each push forward, trying to lose himself in what he was doing, making Potter cry out, no doubt making him rub his face against the cold concrete floor, leaving scrapes along his cheek and temple. Draco lost himself as he kept pushing and pulling, ignoring everything but the tight heat gripping at his cock.

Harry couldn’t take the rapid thrusting any longer, crying out as Malfoy hit his prostate; he squirmed, moving forward, only to be dragged back onto Malfoy’s cock as he was pulled towards him again. Harry’s gasping quickly became moans, whimpering as the spit finally began to evaporate, leaving him open to a dry shag. He grimaced, fighting the cries he wanted to utter as he felt the friction, the pulling against his anus each time Malfoy withdrew or pushed back in. He tried tightening his muscles each time Malfoy moved, trying to make the man behind him come faster. It seemed to be working somewhat, if the noises Malfoy was beginning to make were any indication of how close he was to finishing.

Harry could hear their imprisoners’ panting breaths as he and Malfoy got closer and closer to their own release. It was disgusting listening to the other men wanking to their coupling, no doubt wanting to join in and use each of them as their own playthings.

The blond gasped out loud as Potter bore down on his cock, making the friction that much more intense. After a few more hard thrusts, Draco came in long, hot spurts, feeling as though his very life was dribbling out of his cock. He collapsed over Potter’s back, trying desperately to catch his breath when he was unceremoniously yanked away from the tightness of Potter’s body. He heard him gasp at the same time he was pulled away and sat there, weary and helpless, wet and sticky cock hanging out of his trousers, as his wrists were rebound behind his back.

Harry straightened himself out, lying flat on the cold concrete, hissing lightly as the cool floor came into contact with his cock. He quickly rolled over, sitting up as best he could. With trousers still dangling from his ankles, he felt Malfoy’s come oozing out of his abused arse.

Harry and Draco both stared angrily up at their captors, who seemed to find something funny about their nudity.

Smirking, Edgar tucked himself away. “That was nice. I think I’ll ask the boss if he’ll let me watch you two go at it again before he gets his hands on you. Let’s go, Jeff. The boss’ll be here any minute and we haven’t, uh … finished that job yet.”

Jeff glanced at the two of them before turning to nod at his partner. “All right. What about them? Want me to pull their trousers back on?”

“Nah, I think the boss will enjoy seeing them like this. Come on,” said Edgar, walking out of the room with Jeff in tow, leaving them alone.

Harry watched the two men leave the room before turning to address his companion. “Malfoy?”

“…What?” Draco replied after a few long moments, face slack as if he’d been placed under the Imperius Curse, staring off into space.

“Are-are you all right?” Harry asked, worry evident in his tone as he looked over Malfoy’s hunched form. He wasn’t sure what happened earlier, but he hoped Malfoy would be able to come out of it long enough for them to escape before those wankers returned.

Draco took a noisy breath in through his nose. “I’m fine, Potter,” he tersely answered, clearly avoiding his gaze.

Harry pulled back from Malfoy as if he’d been struck in the face, blinking, and wondering what in Merlin’s name was wrong with the blond. It was a humiliating experience, of course it was, but was there something deeper Malfoy felt? Harry sighed, shaking his head. He’d let Malfoy’s behaviour go … for now. Right now, they needed to get out of here quickly.

They sat silently for a while, Draco thinking about what just happened. He hated having felt weak in the face of their captors and Potter, but it had all come flooding back to him. He was upset, but he was a fully trained Auror, and they needed to find a way to escape without being detected. They couldn’t afford to sit there, bound and helpless, waiting for this ‘boss’ to come for them.

After a moment, Draco broke the silence. “We have to get out of here. I have a plan, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to release you from your bonds. They used a Sticking Charm to keep anyone but themselves from being able to remove them.”

Silence.

“Potter?” Draco enquired, frowning when he didn’t get a response from him. “Are you…?”

He turned to see what had made Potter go quiet so suddenly. He jumped in shock when he spied a red fox standing where Potter had been seated. “Potter? Is-is that you?” He shook his head, making a face and was inwardly relieved when Harry moved closer, licking him. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

Draco closed his eyes, feeling the transformation taking over, his body becoming smaller, more compact, his bones shifting and lightening, becoming hollow, turning him into a hawk. Once he finished, the ties fell away, now much too large for their smaller bodies.

Draco let out a kiu-kiu-kiu at Harry, flapping his wings to get his attention.

Harry yipped softly at him, sniffing the air, trying to locate where their captors were holed up. Harry caught the scent of the men on the air, growling low in his throat before taking off in the direction the smell was coming from.

Draco flapped his wings, lifting up from the floor to hover in the air, following after Harry, who was slinking close to the floor as they reached the room the men were currently in. Harry looked around the room to find the two men asleep. I suppose they finished the job they had to do.

Draco landed next to Potter, tilting his head to the side to look at him, waiting for a sign as to what he had planned.

Harry snuffled at Draco before he sniffed the air once more, trying to locate where their wands were held, smelling the distinct wood of their wands, their unique odour over those of their captors. Once he picked up the scent, he slinked quietly across the room to the table where their wands were placed. His ears twitched, listening for any sudden sounds, footsteps, or voices, besides the soft snores coming from the sleeping men.

Harry stood on his hind legs, front paws clawing atop the table as he grabbed his and Malfoy’s wands, clutching them in his jaws. Draco stood guard in case the men woke up. With both wands in his mouth, Harry dropped down onto all fours, turning to head out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible as one of the men began to stir. Once Harry had both wands, they’d tried Apparating out of the building with no success, so he’d assumed the building had an anti-Apparating field around it.

They made their way posthaste to the exit, Harry glad he couldn’t sense any others in the building. He had never been so happy to smell the rank stench of fish and sea air as he was at that moment. They continued through the area, running and flying down streets, moving between buildings, not stopping until they had both flown and ran miles from the abandoned fishing port and far away from the two men.

When they stopped near a cluster of trees, careful to hide their current forms from view, Harry was the first to transform back into his human form. He felt himself growing bigger, felt the fur that was covering him, recede back into his body. As soon as he found himself human once more, he found that his trousers and boxers were still tangled up around his ankles. He bent over and quickly pulled them up, fastening them before sitting heavily onto the grassy ground. He winced slightly at the soreness he felt radiating from his arse, a reminder of their ordeal.

Draco finished shifting back into his human form right after Harry had, fastening his trousers together as well. Once he finished, he sat down next to Harry, leaning back on his hands, his legs straight out in front of him, staring out at the grassy fields and trees. Draco knew they should head back to the Ministry as soon as possible, but he needed the time to collect his thoughts and strengthen his determination before reporting back to Kingsley. Besides, they were miles away from where they left the two men, so he didn’t feel the need to hurry back right away.

They both sat in silence, looking out at the scenery, lost in their thoughts. After a moment, Draco spoke. “Potter, I … wanted to apologise … about earlier.”

“Malfoy,” Harry started, “there’s nothing to apologise for.” He turned to face the visibly upset Auror. “You did what you had to do. If you hadn’t, they would have either tortured me into insanity, or they would have killed us.”

Draco smiled lightly in gratitude, feeling slightly better. He had been forgiven. The memories that had been triggered from earlier still weighed heavily on his mind; the screams of You-Know-Who's tortured victims that still echoed in the Manor now echoed in his ears, repeating and ten times louder, nearly crippling him.

But they had a job to do. There were still murders happening and his parents were still possible targets. He clenched his fists to keep them from shaking, gritting his teeth as he dug deep inside himself to find his resolve. He had to be strong: he was an Auror, a professional, and they had to get going very soon to report back their findings … even if it hadn’t been much.

Harry glanced over at Malfoy, trying not to stare, seeing that Malfoy had somewhat forgiven himself. He had a vague idea as to why Malfoy had acted the way he had, freaking out and shouting for them to stop.

Harry’s memories shifted to their sixth year when Malfoy had been under intense emotional stress, and how he had found the then younger Slytherin actually crying in Myrtle’s bathroom. Harry remembered Malfoy hadn’t been able to kill Dumbledore when he’d had the chance. Though, now, he no longer saw Malfoy in the same light as he had then.

Harry blew out a quiet breath, lost in old memories he’d thought he had long forgotten. Malfoy was more than likely suffering from past demons, just as he was.

Ten years, and it still hadn’t got any better … for either of them.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts when he felt Malfoy shift next to him.

“So, Potter,” Draco began, looking at him a moment. “You’re an Animagus, eh?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied warily, continuing to stare out at the scenery, unable to look at Malfoy.

“Hmm, I assume you’re unregistered since I never saw your name in the books.” Draco leaned forward over his knees. “Any reason why?”

Harry sighed forlornly. “After the war, I felt … changed. Not myself. I don’t know why I decided to become an Animagus. Maybe it was because of Sirius, or it could have been I felt I needed an advantage in the unlikely event someone decided to come after me for revenge,” he said, turning to glance at Malfoy before continuing. “I never bothered to register, mostly as a way to keep the element of surprise in my corner. If people knew I could do so, it would have been a waste of time in using it as an advantage.” He shrugged before falling quiet once more.

Draco hummed to himself, thinking over what Potter said. He had a vague understanding to the reason why Potter hadn’t told anyone, and he wasn’t so crass to tell the Ministry something that wasn’t any of their business. He knew Potter wouldn’t use his form for any wrongdoing, so he would remain quiet about it. What the Ministry didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, after all.

Draco stood up then, brushing bits of grass from his trousers. “Let’s go, Potter. Those men might have woken up by now and may be trying to find us.” He said, extending a hand to Potter, helping him to his feet.

“We do need to head back,” Harry replied, nodding at Malfoy, averting his gaze from the blond’s. It wasn’t something either of them would get over in only a few moments, with forgiveness and smiles.

Harry wasn’t sure if he could go on if things like this were going to be a frequent occurrence, if he could continue helping Malfoy and the Ministry with finding who or what was responsible for the latest murders. Did he have the resolve, the legendary Gryffindor courage, to keep pressing forward to find those accountable? He sighed inwardly, hoping he’d have the strength, the drive to keep going.

Draco wasn’t able to look at Potter for very long before the memories came rushing in like water from a broken dam. It would be difficult to work with someone he’d raped, and he still thought of it as rape, regardless of what Potter said; no matter how important the task. He turned his back towards the other man before Apparating away, leaving him behind.

Harry heaved a weighty sigh of his own, wanting to roll his eyes in exasperation as Malfoy left him alone once again. He looked off into the distance a moment, trying to clear his thoughts as he prepared to Apparate away. He thought he heard a dog barking in the distance, reminding him of his godfather—before he disappeared from the grassy countryside on his way to the Ministry.

***

Harry and Draco reappeared in an area concealed from Muggles, just outside the Ministry. They took the main entrance into the building, bypassing security, which Harry was pleased about since he was in no mood to be chatted up again.

As they quickly made their way to the lifts, Harry noticed Malfoy’s stiff shoulders and deliberate fast pace as they walked. He hoped the other man got over whatever demons he seemed to be fighting internally. Yes, they’d had a horrendous experience, but Harry didn’t think he’d be able to continue working with the man if he was going to remain upset about it.

Once the lift arrived, they went inside, riding it until it stopped on their floor. The two of them remained quiet as they walked down the hall, making their way to Kingsley’s office. Draco took a deep calming breath before knocking, and waited until he heard Shacklebolt welcome them with “come in” before walking inside, Harry right behind him.

“What did you find?” Kingsley immediately enquired, reclining back in his chair.

“We think we found some of this rising Dark Lord’s followers,” Draco began, sitting down in one of the chairs across from Kingsley’s desk, keeping himself as far from any physical contact as he could without being obvious about it.

“Oh? What makes you so sure?” Shacklebolt asked with curiosity, leaning forward.

Draco sat back a little, flinching slightly when Kingsley got a little too close for comfort. “Well … when they held us captive for a few hours, they kept talking about their ‘boss’.”

“Wait a moment,” Kingsley interrupted in alarm. “The two of you were held hostage? Are you both all right?”

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of how to answer. He opened his mouth, trying to find the right words to say, but he came up blank. He was saved from the inquisitive look Shacklebolt threw at him, when Potter spoke up. “We’re fine. Nothing to keep us up at night. Right, Malfoy?”

Draco blinked questioningly at Potter, keeping his face blank when the dark-haired man wouldn’t meet his eyes. He couldn’t blame the man for not wanting to dwell on what happened between them. He wasn’t very comfortable knowing he’d done that with Potter himself. The sex, in and of itself, hadn’t been bad, but the humiliation, feeling like he was just a plaything to be used by others; it had been too much for either of them.

“I see,” Kingsley said skeptically, eyeing the two men strangely.

“We really didn’t learn much,” Draco started again, looking up from his stare of the desktop to meet Kingsley’s gaze when he had to. “There were only two of them and they never named who this ‘boss’ was. Although, we did get their names: Edgar and Jeff.”

Kingsley nodded, moving a folder aside to pull out a file from underneath. “While you two were investigating in Grimsby, there was another murder. I’m sending you and Harry out to investigate the scene.”

“Another murder?” Harry asked in disbelief. He couldn’t believe another person was dead. This new person, trying to become the next Dark Lord, was picking off ex-Death Eaters left and right, but for what reason? Harry just couldn’t comprehend anything at this point. Did this person think the ex-followers would go against him?

“Yes. This one happened in Crawley.”

“Crawley?” Draco asked in disbelief. “What’s in Crawley?”

Kingsley cleared his throat and read through the report again. “Seems the murder happened at an establishment called Club Infinity.”

“Hang on, I know that club,” Harry murmured distractedly, looking off in the distance.

Draco turned to him, perplexed. “What’s Club Infinity?” When Potter didn’t answer straight away, Draco turned to Shacklebolt. “Well?”

Kingsley looked over at Harry a moment before answering, “It’s a fetish club.”

“A wizard sex club in Crawley?” Draco asked incredulously. “Wizards wouldn’t open one in the middle of a Muggle city.”

“It’s not a wizard-owned club. It’s Muggle,” Harry answered suddenly, turning to look at Malfoy.

Draco leaned back to get a good look at Potter, eyebrows twitching at this bit of information. “And you’d know this because…?”

“Because,” Harry began with a sigh, “a few years back I frequented the club on an almost nightly basis.”

“Potter!” Draco cried in feigned shock. “I always knew you were a perverted miscreant.” Draco smirked at Potter’s icy stare.

“You know, Malfoy,” Harry began, tone conversational, “if you got out more often and took that stick out of your arse, you might just be likable. But, alas,” he sighed, shaking his head as if he were truly disappointed. “You will always be a prude.”

“I’ll have you know—“

“Gentlemen!” Kingsley swiftly interrupted. “I need the two of you to head to Crawley now. Note anything unusual and report back to me. Think you two can get along long enough to do this?”

“Yes, sir,” Draco replied petulantly, arms crossed and a sigh escaping his lips as he stared at Potter.

Harry almost knocked his chair over as he quickly stood up. “Fine,” he snapped, scowling at both men. “The sooner we finish, the sooner I can go home and forget any of this ever happened.” He moved to the door, slamming it behind him as he walked out.

Draco shook his head, staring after Potter’s retreating form. Why did Potter have to be such an annoying little oik? All he ever did was complain and throw tantrums. One would almost think the man was seven instead of twenty-seven. After a moment, Draco stood up as well, turning to look at his supervisor. “Sir,” he acknowledged to Kingsley before following after the insufferable man.

***

They appeared on the outskirts of town, outside the presence of any Muggles that might have been in the area. They made their way quickly down the dirt path towards the town of Crawley, heading towards the entrance of Club Infinity.

“There’re a lot of people around here for an Auror-run investigation,” Harry commented, looking around at all the law enforcement present.

Draco scanned the area, spotting a few familiar faces in the investigational support: a few people he knew to be Muggle liaisons. “Some of them are undercover Aurors; you can tell they’re wizarding folk by the way they don’t quite blend in. The others are Muggles,” Draco explained, glancing sidelong at Harry.

Harry hummed quietly to himself as he looked around the building. “Let’s find who’s in charge here and talk to them.”

Draco looked at the parchment he pulled from his trouser pocket. “Officer Jameson—oh,” he stopped short, a look of recognition on his face. “He’s one of the Muggle liaison officers.” He scanned the faces milling around, spotting Jameson near the entrance. “I see him over there,” he said, pointing at one of the men. “Come on.”

As they moved closer, Harry looked up at the front of the building. He felt a twinge of nostalgia as he gazed up at the gaudy neon sign, the words Club Infinity flashing on and off; right below it, on the front of the building itself, was a huge, black infinity symbol.

They pushed through Aurors and Muggle investigative officers, working their way to the person Malfoy had pointed out. “Taylor,” Draco called, and the man turned at his name.

Jameson smiled grimly at Draco. “Draco, fancy meeting you here,” he greeted, looking from Draco to Harry. “Who’s your friend?”

“He’s not a friend, he’s a … uh … colleague.”

“All right,” Jameson accepted, raising an amused eyebrow at Draco. He held his hand out to Harry. “Name’s Taylor Jameson. And you are…?”

“Harry. Harry Potter.” He introduced, shaking Jameson’s hand in return. Harry couldn't help but stare at the man: Jameson was taller than him, with an athletic build. His hair was black and short, and his eyes, blue-green; he looked altogether too familiar to Harry.

Jameson blinked, his eyes shifting to Draco. “So this is the one, huh?” he eyed Harry appreciatively. “I can see why.”

“Excuse me?” Harry asked in confusion. He didn’t like the way the man was looking at him as if he was giving Malfoy his approval. Though Harry couldn’t fathom why Malfoy would need his blessing to be his defacto partner. “What do you mean by ‘this is the one’?”

“Draco talked about you constantly. ‘Potter this and Potter that.’ Was quite annoying actually,” Jameson replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Really?” Harry said in disbelief, turning to give Malfoy an amused look.

Draco stepped back, laughing nervously at Harry while shooting Jameson a warning look. “I don’t know what he’s talking about, Potter,” he said quickly, addressing the dark-haired man.

“Okay,” Jameson began, giving Draco a knowing look. “I’m obviously mistaken.” He looked pensive a moment before he changed the subject. “So, Draco, how much do you know about what happened here?”

“Not much. I do know that another ex-Death Eater was murdered. What I don’t understand, is what he was doing at an obviously Muggle owned and run club.”

“We don’t know at the moment. Kingsley sent me an owl earlier, telling me to come here,” Jameson said, laughing suddenly. “You wouldn’t believe what my partner thought about that. Had to tell him it was an experiment to see if owls could replace carrier pigeons...!”

While Malfoy and Jameson were laughing, Harry moved away from them and headed towards the entrance of the club. There were officers walking in and out of the building, going about their investigation as he moved past them. Seemed that nothing had changed since he was last here, judging by the look of things. The dance floor was still the same as it always was; worn wooden floor, DJ booth up front. Light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, which pulsed to the music.

He looked around the club, spotting the bar to his right, and shook his head, remembering the times he sat there, nursing a drink, waiting for a sexy bloke to come by. The wry grin stretching across his face fell flat into a frown, and Harry froze, his eyes catching a lumpy form at the end of the bar. A body. He shivered in disgust, shocked about what he saw.

The body of the ex-Death Eater was lying near a barstool, face up, a blank stare on the man’s face. Harry couldn’t tell for sure if the dead man was Selwyn, but it did look like him. Seemed the Killing Curse had been used on the supine man, if the way he laid there with his eyes staring unfocused up towards the ceiling. He frowned in thought, shaking his head as he moved on, not wanting to stare at the body any longer.

Harry kept moving, walking past the dance floor until he stopped before a panel hidden in the wall in a little alcove deep in the back of the club. He looked around him before touching a knot in the wood, revealing a keypad. He had wondered if his code still worked, as he entered his access code, waiting for the light to turn from red to green.

After a moment, he frowned and pulled his wand out. “Seems the code’s been changed.” Harry waved his wand over the section of wall, muttering the Unlocking Charm. He blinked as he felt a cool rush of air on his face as the wall pulled up to reveal an inner room, dimly glowing from guttering candles. He furrowed his brow as he noted a strange smell hanging in the air, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

Harry moved inside, looking around, noticing the décor as he walked further into the room. It seemed as if the owners had done some remodelling since he’d last been in there. He looked around the room, noticing a few kneelers and whipping posts scattered throughout the room along with other sexual apparatuses. He walked further in, freezing in his tracks at what he saw. It took him a moment to comprehend what he was seeing, but as soon as he did, he shouted, “Malfoy! Over here, there’re more bodies!”

Draco and Jameson heard Potter’s frantic shouts from just inside the club’s main room—visually inspecting the body—and ran to the back. They stopped just outside the alcove, Draco stepping inside to find Potter leaning back against the wall, eyes darting everywhere as he stared in horrified silence at the carnage in front of them. He stopped next to Potter, eyes going wide in revulsion as he took in the sight of the room. “What kind of barbaric madman would do something like this?”

Jameson leaned out of the door, shouting, “Officers, in here!” He turned back to the two men, stopping beside them. “What the hell happened in here?”

“It looks like a torture room,” Draco replied, eyeing the scene with fright, stepping aside as a few officers ran in to examine the room, making sure no hostile individuals were still inside.

"How’d you know this was here, and how’d you get inside? The password's been changed," Jameson demanded, standing behind Harry.

Harry turned to stare at the officer, frowning. “How did you know that?”

Jameson shrugged. "Some of my fellows work this area frequently. Crime went up. Some CIs attend this club," he replied, moving to his team to get the all clear.

Harry nodded at Jameson’s explanation and took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm himself. He looked to the side, away from the officers taking photos and documenting evidence of the disgusting crime scene. It was obvious everyone was dead. Instead he decided to look around at the sexual devices, crinkling his brows in thought, and wondering why these particular ones seemed familiar to him, though he couldn’t decipher it at the moment.

“Malfoy,” he whispered to the blond, moving closer to him so no one else could hear them. “I used to come into this room quite a few years ago.”

“What is it?” Draco whispered back.

Harry gestured vaguely around the room, encompassing everything with a sweep of his hand. “When I was here, these … devices weren’t. It was mainly a place people would go to receive spankings or just to have anonymous sex—with men or women. But whoever was in here, used these items for something other than what they were meant for. These … are for pleasure, fulfilling fantasies: not torturing and killing.”

Draco glanced around, making sure no one could overhear their conversation. “We should do some spells, find out who brought these here,” he whispered to Harry, eyeing the crowd of officers for Jameson. “Taylor,” he called out, getting the man’s attention, a mere few feet away from them.

“Yes?” Jameson asked, walking over to them, an expectant look on his face.

“We’re going to need to take these devices back with us,” Draco began, keeping his voice low. “We’re going to shrink them. How long will it be before your team can remove the bodies?”

Jameson paused for a moment, thinking. “Four, maybe five hours. I’ll let them know you’re taking these items.” He replied, moving off to relay the message.

Draco watched Jameson leave before turning to Potter. There was a curious thoughtful expression on his face. With some exasperation, Draco sighed and groaned, “Now what is it, Potter?”

Harry kept his attention on the sexual apparatuses, ignoring Malfoy as he replied, “These look familiar for some reason. I just … I can’t remember where I’ve seen them before.”

Draco looked at him oddly. “Potter, you work in a sex shop. Surely you know what these are,” he dryly reminded.

“That’s not what I mean,” Harry snapped, growing annoyed. “I meant these particular ones look familiar. I do know what they are, Malfoy.”

“Hmph. Well, we’ll find out soon enough,” Draco said, looking at the items also.

Harry sighed wearily. “Yeah.”

***

It was a few hours later before Jameson and his team finished documenting the scene and removing the bodies. Harry had been uncomfortable the entire time they waited as Jameson kept hovering around them, pelting questions at the both of them like he was gathering information for a book or something. Not only that, but the man kept giving them these searching looks, and Harry had no idea why.

Draco had been gathering information from some of the officers who’d been first at the scene, preparing his report for Kingsley. Harry had wandered around outside, surveying the area, trying to piece together what could have happened at the club. He hadn’t come any closer to an answer than when they’d first arrived.

“Okay,” Jameson began, addressing Draco. “I’ve told my team to let you two have the room. Only the liaisons know you’re both wizards, the others have been ordered not to disturb you.”

“Thanks,” Draco replied, smiling in gratitude before turning toward Harry. “Ready, Potter?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered distractedly, mind still lost in his confusing thoughts.

Both men pulled their wands from their respective places within their clothes, shrinking each item they found. Bondage chairs, racks, stocks, tables, and various other assorted items were shrunk down and placed into a packing box one of the officers had procured for them. A little while later, with the items secured, Draco went to find Jameson, leaving Harry behind.

“Taylor,” Draco started conversationally, standing close to the man. “We’re heading back to the Ministry. Let us know what you find.”

Jameson nodded. “Of course. I’ll send Radston; he’s the Auror assigned to us right now.”

“Sounds good,” Draco replied with a weary smile. He turned to head out of the building when his name was called, and turned back around. “Hmm?”

“It was nice seeing you again, Draco, despite the circumstances,” Jameson said warmly, smiling sadly at the blond.

Draco sighed tiredly, pausing a moment as he looked at Jameson. “Same here, Taylor,” he replied sincerely before he turned and walked out of the club, spotting Potter waiting nearby for his return. “Let’s go, Potter.”

They made their way quickly down the dirt path, back to the spot they had Apparated to when they’d first arrived. Harry noticed Malfoy’s pensive look and couldn’t help himself. “Where do you know him from?” he questioned, gauging Malfoy’s reaction.

Draco paused at the question, looking at Potter askance for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he should tell him or not, but decided to do so when he realised the man more than likely wouldn’t care. After a brief pause, he shrugged his shoulders and looked Potter in the eyes. “We used to be lovers long ago.” He answered, disappearing before he could see Potter’s reaction to this bit of news.

Harry blinked at the spot Malfoy had Apparated from, shaking his head in annoyance. “I hate it when he does that,” he murmured to himself.

Harry wasn’t sure why he felt odd around Officer Jameson. He couldn’t quite get over the fact that the man looked awfully familiar to him, but he had no idea from where. Harry sighed once more, rolling his eyes at himself. The git, was more than likely already at the Ministry, having a right old laugh about everything.

And that was another thing: since when did Malfoy shag Muggles? In all the time they’d known each other at school, Malfoy had always hated them. It wasn’t like him to do something like that, as far as Harry knew. But why’d they break up? What happened between them and when did it happen? Harry shook his head; they had more important things to do at the moment.

He’d worry about Jameson later.

***