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Reap the Hurricane	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11499 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

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Thank you for all the reviews!

Chapter Two—Riding the Wind

            “You have everything, Harry?” Andromeda asked softly, shrinking the last trunk and dropping it in her pocket.

            Harry looked up from the book on farming, and nodded before he shrank it, in turn, and secreted it in one of the many pockets in his own robe. It was time to admit that he probably wouldn’t know much about Hurricane before they got there, and it was silly to think he could make their lives easier by stuffing himself with information. Instead, he would have to go through the portal and take his chances, like everyone else, in a world that was different.

            And he would protect Teddy. That was the point of this, the point of his life.

            “Yes, I think so,” Harry said, and stood up, staring around the house one more time. They’d taken all their books, all their clothes, all of Teddy’s toys, and some other necessary things like the kettle and some food and his broom, and of course mementoes of his parents and Teddy’s parents and Ted Tonks. But there was so little reason to haul furniture through the portal that Harry wasn’t planning on doing it, except for a few shrunken chairs that were comfortable for Andromeda, and one small table, and Teddy’s special chair.

            Hermione, he thought, was probably bringing the entire contents of her house. She had argued with Harry when she found out that he wasn’t packing his dining room table or taking his kitchen cabinets off the walls, but Harry had faced her down and pointed out that he would need something to keep him busy when they got to Hurricane, and it might as well be conjuring and shaping new furniture. She’d backed down after that.

            “Then let’s go,” Andromeda said, with a whiffling little sigh as she looked around their house once more. She was going, Harry knew, less because her life was hard on Earth than because there were so many memories of her husband and daughter here. In a new world, she might not feel their deaths as much.

            “Are we going?” Teddy’s hair was a flat black with purple undertones this time. He raised his arms to Harry. “You have the monkey.”

            Harry nodded, picked him up, and patted the sealed pocket where he was carrying the shrunken trunk of Teddy’s toys. “Yes, I promise.”

            “Want the monkey now,” Teddy said, and laid his head against Harry’s neck.

            “You can’t have him when we go through the portal,” Harry said gently, for at least the fiftieth time, as he shut the door behind him and locked it. He would turn over the key to the Ministry officials at the portal. “He would fly away.”

            Teddy sighed, as if to say that powerful magical winds in the portal were no match for his need for his monkey, but fell grumpily silent. Harry chuckled, held him more firmly, and reached out to take Andromeda’s arm. They were ready to Apparate.

*

            Draco arrived early at the portal to Hurricane. No matter what Potter might have said or not said, he didn’t trust the git not to set up a final block of some kind here, perhaps by bribing guards who would pretend that Draco’s name wasn’t on the list.

            But everything was as it should be. The Ministry officials had chosen the road from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts to set up the official emigration points. Once the Unspeakables had opened the roads to Hurricane and the other worlds that people had chosen to emigrate to, the gates could be moved around and positioned in any spot that had enough room for them. Draco heard chattering, as he walked past the different portals, about how teams of Unspeakables and Aurors had run the portals across England, ending up in Scotland only after several terrifying journeys past Muggle cities.

            Secretaries waited to collect the keys of houses and any other property that emigrants were leaving behind; officially, it would become “temporary property of the Ministry” until such time as someone in the world left behind wanted to buy it. Draco reached for the key of the Manor, and then had to stand still, shivering, before he could join one of the official lines.

            He could leave it to his mother. She might still come back to England when she heard the news about him leaving the Malfoy vault to her.

            But no, she would never be able to live in it as he did, as born Malfoys did; half the wards and heirlooms wouldn’t respond to her, and any children she might have after this, with someone other than Lucius, wouldn’t be able to inherit, either. Better to leave the house to anyone who wanted it, to have them make over the wards and the rooms in their own image, and start a new line that way.

Because, incredible though it seemed to Draco with the decaying state of the world all around him, there were still people who wanted to live here.

“Draco Malfoy,” he told the slender, white-clad witch behind the heavy oak desk when he finally got to the front of the queue. The sight of the desk squatting on fresh grass made him want to snort, but he held the noise firmly in. These secretaries were one of the last lines of defense before Draco would finally get to leave. If he angered them, then they might deny him passage, and no one cared about him enough to speak up for his right to go to Hurricane.

The witch stared at him in a way that said she recognized his name, and her fingers reached out for one sheet of paper as if she was going to shuffle it beneath the others. Draco smiled charmingly and held out his hand for her to shake; in his palm were two bright Galleons, concealed from any watcher by the neat twist of his fingers.

The secretary smiled back and shook his hand, making the coins disappear faster than Draco had palmed them. “Very well, of course,” she murmured, and then shuffled the papers around in a more natural manner this time. She gave Draco a bright, curious stare when she finally located the list Draco was sure he was on. “You’re going to the same world as Harry Potter?”

“Is that a problem?” Draco asked, and matched her bright-toothed smile for bright-toothed smile.

            “Oh, I suppose not,” said the secretary. “I sometimes grow curious about the reasons for people’s choices, that’s all.” She waited, but when Draco didn’t gratify her curiosity, she sighed and began to speak to him about the forms he needed to fill out to give the Manor key up and ensure that his vault passed to his mother.

            Draco was still in the middle of the second form, which was more complicated and could result in the Ministry seizing his vault for “inconveniences” if he filled it out incorrectly, when he heard a swelling murmur from the queue behind him. He turned his head.

            The Weasleys were advancing in a giant cluster over the hill, led by the matriarch with her daughter beside her. Draco shuddered a little when Mrs. Weasley’s bright eyes focused on him and then swept on. The woman who had killed his aunt might have no objection about ridding the world—any world—of her nephew, too.

            Behind them came that absurd prefect, and the Muggle-loving father, and Weasley himself with Granger close beside him, and the remaining twin with his Gryffindor Chaser lover, and the two brothers Draco didn’t know as well, though he could appreciate the loveliness of the silver-haired woman who walked beside the scarred one. And Potter, walking with Teddy’s hand in his, and Draco’s surviving aunt cringing in his shadow.

            Draco didn’t know whether the murmuring came from the fact that Potter was emigrating and many people around him wouldn’t believe that until they saw it, or the fact that the Weasleys were by far the largest of any family group waiting to leave Earth. He decided that it had nothing to do with him, and turned back to his form.

            When he signed his name with a flourish, he had to nudge the secretary’s hand with the edge of the paper; she was one of those who had started watching Potter and his family with an open mouth, as though hypnotized. She came back to life with a second nudge, though, and flushed viciously as she took the paper away from him and mumbled some congratulations on his emigration. Draco made sure that he didn’t still have the Manor key in his pockets, and then turned and walked towards the portals.

            They were on top of the single slight hill between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, where the ground began to rise towards the Forbidden Forest. Draco found it hard to look at them. They resembled perfectly round holes in air, but glowed with a sickening and constantly changing medley of lights. The one with Hurricane on a crude banner on the path before it changed between purple and green and blue with monotonous regularity.

            Draco took his place in the queue and looked around at some of the others. Arcadia, said the banner over the portal with the largest queue, and Draco curled his lip. He had heard that that was a world where magical fruit bloomed in an hour and fell into waiting hands, and the animals were gentle and harmless.

            Which meant, of course, that people would pour into it and set up the same rivalries and hatreds and institutions as before, because they wouldn’t have anything to occupy their time, not even getting food. Draco shook his head. He might have been tempted to emigrate there, but the competition to get on the list was fierce, with names appearing and disappearing as certain families offered larger and larger bribes, and he knew that people were already competing for land, too, despite the fact that all land in Arcadia was supposedly equally beautiful.

            No, thanks.

            There were other names on banners, too: Elysium, the Fortunate Isles, Epithalamion. Draco had heard rumors about all of them that discouraged him from even trying to put his name on the list. Hurricane had at least been named honestly, and because of it, the smallest number of people was emigrating there.

            Draco looked over his shoulder, and saw that Potter and the Weasleys had joined the queue now. He wondered if anyone else noticed, as he did, the way that Potter made sure to keep his body between Teddy and the silver-haired Weasley girl, and the rest of the wizards who strolled back and forth or shouted at each other or tried to pretend they were part of the official and bustling excitement.

            If someone tries to threaten one of them, then he’ll destroy them.

            That was actually a comforting thought, for Draco. He would rather go to a highly magical world with someone who had power like Potter’s than to a gentler, tamer place with a group of lesser wizards.

*

            Harry could already see the signs of people slowly moving into position, and although he had brought all his Galleons with him for a last-minute bribe, the way Hermione had insisted, he knew it wouldn’t come down to that. The realization warmed his muscles and made his mind bright and clear. No matter what happened, he would protect the people he loved.

            No matter what, no matter who.

            There were some people who hated him, and other people who simply thought that a “hero” like Harry Potter shouldn’t be “allowed” to leave the wizarding world. They had made common cause; Harry had picked up the rumors easily from the Ministry, where no one could keep quiet and few people stayed bribed. They would allow him to get into the queue for Hurricane, but they didn’t plan to let him through the portal.

            Harry stretched, as if casually, and watched a number of the supposed Ministry officials at the portal, checking people’s names against their list, flinch. He nodded, and called softly to the magic that, since the war, simply kept growing in him, kept rising, and came like the storms in Hurricane were said to, suddenly and unpredictably. It wanted to be used, and he would give it a splendid field to play in today.

            It was strange, the feeling his magic made ring through his body as it rose. He had expected that it would feel exactly like the power he ordinarily put into his wand, or else like something wild and uncontrollable, riding one of those storms he could compare it to. But it was something more workman-like, the knowledge he could do something, like knowing that he had the strength to lift a heavy box. It was there. It wanted to be used. So he used it.

            Power in its purest form.

            They inched nearer the front of the queue. Only a few hundred wizards would go to Hurricane, and Harry didn’t know most of them; he was glad of that. And in Hurricane, there would be no papers to sell his photograph to, no sites of his victories like Hogwarts to make pilgrimages to.

            If they could get there.

            The portal had changed to sending out green light, and the ring of “officials” had tightened, by the time they reached the front. Three secretaries leaned over to check the forms that Molly, standing in front of her children and grandchild and adopted family as if she could shield all of them from retribution, presented. Two of them nodded and murmured, but their eyes were on Harry.

            Harry smiled at them. Unaccountably, that made them recoil. He chuckled silently, and handed Teddy to Andromeda.

            “They’re going to try something,” he said softly, to her inquiring look. “I want to make sure that Teddy is out of harm’s way.”

            Andromeda nodded, and stepped back until she nearly collided with George and Angelina. Ever since the war, she was more than nervous about potential violence; she wanted it to happen far away from her if it happened at all.

            I don’t think I can oblige this time, Harry thought, as he watched the Aurors in the robes of Ministry flunkies work their way towards him, and felt others crowding in behind. They thought that he wasn’t any good at battle, since he had quit Auror training. They didn’t take into account the fact that one could study on one’s own.

            And none of them had heard anything about his wandless magic except as fears and rumors. Harry still needed his wand for precision charms of any kind, like cleaning Teddy or heating water to boil for tea. But the wandless power sweeping through him was good for grand attacks and dramatic effects.

            And that was exactly what he wanted now—exactly what he needed to warn the Ministry back.

            He spread his hands apart as the first two “officials” stopped in front of him, sporting brittle smiles. Two others were directly behind him. The rest of the Weasleys had gone ahead, even Hermione, and Harry thought he saw Malfoy’s pale head nodding somewhere off in the distance, too. He was pleased to think that the prat hadn’t gone through the portal yet and would be a witness to this. Perhaps it would discourage him from doing anything stupid when they reached Hurricane.

            “Mr. Potter,” said the lead Auror, one of the instructors Harry recognized from his brief stint in training. “We’re so sorry, but there’s a problem with your emigration forms. We’ll have to ask you to return with us.”

            Harry hefted the bag of Galleons he carried, unshrunken, on his shoulder in silent question. He would do as Hermione wanted him to first, and try to bribe them. But he already knew it would do no good, and saliva slammed into his mouth and adrenaline into his veins. He shook slightly as he stood there.

            “No, you shouldn’t try that,” said the other Auror, one Harry didn’t know but who couldn’t be anything but an Auror with the way she stood and moved. She reached out to take Harry’s arm.

            Harry smiled at her, and released the magic from his spread hands.

            The air in front of him and behind him ripped apart, and the Aurors went flying off their feet. Harry braced himself against the pull and lifted his arms, and whirling columns of wind seized the Aurors and lifted them straight up into the air, rotating them constantly and wrapping their robes around their heads.

            Harry watched, panting. He could have done this all day. He could have lifted them straight up into the air, higher than they could climb on the best professional broom, and held them there until he tired and let them fall. He could have blown them out of the country. He could have broken their bones with sharp blows until their bodies contained nothing but small, soft powdery fragments. Any and all of that power was his.

            But Victoire and Teddy were watching, and there were people in the queue behind him who might not get to Hurricane if he did any of that. The Ministry would certainly send more Aurors to arrest him, and it would all become more tiresome than it was worth.

            Harry laughed under his breath and perched the Aurors back on the ground. They cowered there, arms tucked over their heads, and Harry knew the time had come to move. He snatched Teddy back from Andromeda and pelted towards the portal, past the other Weasleys and the officials who were really there to check people’s papers.

            One woman opened her mouth and stepped forwards as if she would get in the way. Harry smiled at her, and she shivered and ducked her head. Then Harry whirled to the side, still holding Teddy tightly, and waved the others in.

            Bill and Fleur went through first, holding hands and both cradling Victoire between them. The green light swallowed them up. Charlie and George and Angelina and Andromeda made it in, Andromeda giving Harry a long steady look on the way that meant they would have words later. Harry ignored that. If she was so upset about the way he was raising her grandson, then she should take a more active part in it.

            Arthur turned around as if he wanted to fight the Aurors, but Ginny shook her head and yanked sharply on his arm, and in the end Arthur turned back and let her herd him along. They went through, and Molly. Percy was right behind them, eyes darting nervously between Harry and Ron and Hermione as if he thought there was a chance that Harry would hurt his best friends. Harry smiled back with teeth bared, and Percy gave it up as a bad job. He would probably talk to Harry later along with Andromeda, though.

            Next was Malfoy. He gave Harry a single cool look that seemed to score flakes off his bones, and then a nod. He bowed his head slightly as he passed through the portal, which Harry thought was ridiculous. The upper edge of the round gate was well above his head.

            And then came Ron and Hermione, staying behind for him as they had all through the war, and lifting their wands when the Aurors who hadn’t directly engaged Harry moved hesitantly forwards. Harry shook his head at the Aurors. “You don’t want to do that,” he said softly.

            Winds opened around him at his next gesture, unfolding in the air with literal knife edges that ripped through the trailing robes and the papers of the wizards on the portal. They scrambled back, and the Auror Harry recognized from his training moved slowly towards him, eyes fixed on Harry’s face as if he thought that would keep him distracted.

            “You must realize that we can’t let you go now,” he said.

            Harry smiled at him, open-mouthed and panting like a dog. “And why not?” he asked. “Why the fuck not? I’ll be in another world in a minute, someone else’s problem. And you might note that I didn’t actually hurt anyone.”

            “Property damage,” said the Auror, but he hesitated visibly before his lips moved. Harry smiled again and spread his hands. Winds uncoiled from his fingers and wrapped themselves in leaves and grasses, visible now to their potential victims. The Auror stepped backwards, drawing his wand.

            “I’m going to be someone else’s problem,” Harry said gently. “And I’ve never got out of control in the last few years except when someone threatened me.” He felt Ron shift his weight, and Hermione turn her wand on a few people who were trying to drift nearer around the sides, unnoticed. “Go away now, and you don’t have to deal with this, and someone else will probably get blamed for the harm I did.”

            The Auror’s mouth tightened, and Harry was sure that it went against his training to let someone escape, no matter how minor their crime. But there was the wind waiting for him, and three adult wizards armed with wands, and a child who was shrieking with excitement and changing his hair to so many different colors that Harry wouldn’t have blamed someone for being blinded.

            The Auror stepped back again, and signaled to some of the other wizards creeping up on Harry and his friends. Two of them stopped. The others kept coming.

            Harry jerked his head at Hermione and Ron. “Get through the portal,” he said, and handed Teddy to Hermione, while the air around him heated like boiling water.

            “Harry—”

            He glanced at Ron, and Ron fell silent, his face whitening. Harry nodded once, and watched as Hermione and Ron hurried away, ducking their heads beneath the upper edge of the portal the same way Malfoy had. At least Ron had a reason; he’d grown to more than two meters. Harry heard Teddy give an unhappy wail, but he’d join him in a moment.

            Curses stabbed towards him the moment Teddy vanished. At least some of the Aurors had hesitated because a child was there and not because they feared the way that Harry would react, then.

            Harry interlaced his fingers and closed his eyes. The visible winds snarled in front of him, and he envisioned what he wanted them to do, holding them in tension for a moment, doing nothing harder than altering the air the Aurors’ curses flew through to deflect them.

            Then he let the winds go.

            They whistled and howled through the portal camp, snatching emigration forms and shredding them, tossing robes over Aurors’ heads, grabbing wands and hurling them into trees. Harry saw tents and desks lifting off the ground and families running to shelter, and smiled. He was the only one who knew that the winds would only hurt inanimate objects, not people.

            He turned and jumped through the portal.

            For a moment, he fell through green light that burned and froze him by turns. He wrapped a protective mantle of air around his body, but that didn’t seem to help. The magic he had to work with was as alien, in the transition between worlds, as the light itself.

            And then he was lying gasping on a plain of golden grass, with Teddy crying and running to embrace him, and glimpses of the other Weasleys and Malfoy, beneath a storm-blue sky.

*

            unneeded: Thank you! This will be 19 chapters.

            Not so much of the dystopia when they get into Hurricane, but I hope you enjoy what you have here.

            elementalwitch; Thank you! I like this concept as well, and I’m looking forward to seeing what I can do with it.

            SP777: Yes, it will be pretty heavy drama. About setting up home in a new world and dealing with interpersonal problems.

            I came up with this as a prompt for a ficathon, but although someone picked it up, the story never got written. So it’s mine now.
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Reap the Hurricane