Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Nothing, Everything	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 10268 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Author's note: A bit later than planned, but I still had to finish it today *grimaces*
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: My apologies, but from now on this story will be updated every two weeks. The reason for this is because I need more time to work decently on this story and with a few other ongoing projects and real life in general, updating this story weekly would get quite difficult now that I don't have any pre written chapters anymore. Basically I need more time to work on my projects and I don't want to deliver half arsed chapters. So I'm sorry for this, but in order to avoid delays, I'll be updating this bi weekly and the update day will move to Friday.
Thanks to the following reviewer: RequiredReading (who do you suspect?)
Warnings: references to a minor character death; nothing else in particular as far as I know
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 3
Draco had always thought it was ridiculous and a waste of valuable space to keep every edition of the Daily Prophet, including the Special Evening and Sunday issues since the start of the newspaper in 1743. Especially because the Prophet couldn't always be trusted to deliver the correct news and was quite biased at times.
"They who have the influence and the money run the Prophet," Great Aunt Elisabeth had once said mockingly and she hadn't been far from the truth. One often had to skim and read between the lines to get to the real truth.
As it stood, this newspaper was Draco's chance to discover how long he and Potter had been captured and why. Most importantly – but something he doubted he would discover in the articles – he wanted to find out why he had started dating the younger man a month after they were released. What had happened during that particular time that would have changed their minds about each other? He realised that it would probably be easier if he just asked Potter what had happened, but he didn't trust the man to give him the full account. It would be just like Potter and his bloody Gryffindor sentimentality to embellish the story and make it sound more romantic than it was.
Draco snorted derisively as the doors of the private Malfoy library swung open soundlessly, revealing the magnificent room with its sparkling floor and large windows, its large bookcases forming rows on the left and right side and filling up the walls until the ceiling. Two large arm chairs in which one could sink in easily and sit comfortably were waiting in front of the fireplace, a small round wooden table in between them. Two large, square tables had been placed in the middle of the room on the right and the left and each held six seats. The woodwork gleamed in the light, proof that the house elves did their best to keep everything in order and clean.
At the end of the room, hidden from sight by a large bookcase containing old diaries, there was another room; the entrance of it blocked by a pure white door, which blended in with the white walls. Only people who knew the location of the room would be able to distinguish the door.
This particular room contained every edition of the Prophet, but Draco had yet to figure out why his ancestors had thought it was important to disguise the door as part of the wall. It wasn't as if the room harboured important family heirlooms; only rows and rows of shelves containing the newspapers, separated by year.
Shaking his head, Draco crossed the library, passing a house elf who was carefully dusting off some books, but stopped to bow momentarily when the wizard walked past him. Grey eyes spotted the door immediately and the doorknob gave away easily underneath his hand; the door opening silently. This room was less magnificent as the library, more used as a storage room for the newspapers and not meant to be seen by many people, but it was still beautiful in its own way.
At the moment Draco wasn't interested in admiring the room and instead made a beeline to the shelves containing the editions of three years ago. He couldn't recall when exactly he had started dating Potter and he only had a very vague recollection of having been captured. One would think he would definitely recall being kidnapped, but he assumed his fractured memory of that time had something to do with Potter being there. That still didn't explain why he could perfectly well recall their encounters throughout their schoolyears and even two years after the war – up until he was captured actually – but so far not much had made sense.
His vague memory of being kidnapped and Blaise's mention of not having been present when he and Potter got together, however, provided him with enough hints to seek out the right month and start looking through the editions there.
It had happened a week after his twentieth birthday, right when he had left the wards of Malfoy Manor on his way to meet up with Pansy. He had to look through the papers on a lower shelf, kneeling down to make it easier on himself.
The first mention of his disappearance he found in the newspaper dated two days after he was taken. It was a rather small article, pushed back to the tenth page, which just said that the Malfoy heir had disappeared and that Aurors were on the case. Draco sneered, dropping the paper next to him on the floor. It figured that they wouldn't have spent much attention on his kidnapping – why care about someone who had been convicted as a Death Eater?
However, the newspaper bumped up his disappearance to the front page another two days later when they had heard that Potter had taken up the case. He stared down sourly at the picture of Potter elbowing his way through the mass of reporters before slipping into the elevator. There weren't much leads mentioned in the article accompanying the picture – either there had been few leads or the Aurors had kept quiet about the majority of them.
Things picked up a week and a half after he had been taken. The Prophet reported rather panicked that Potter had been captured on his way home and the Aurors wouldn't release any information, not even to state whether Potter's disappearance had something to do with the case he had been working on.
The Prophets following those still kept up with Potter's disappearance – and with Draco's, albeit his received only a few lines each time – every day, but not much news was added to the articles. The reporters started speculating, trying to guess what a Dark Wizard wanted to do with both an ex-Death Eater and the Saviour of the Wizarding World. The speculations ranged from their disappearances just being coincidence, a matter of being at the wrong time at the wrong place, to dark rituals which required someone from the Light and Dark side. Some thought it had something to do with revenge for the war; others thought the perpetrator was going after well-known figures in society.
Nobody knew exactly what the Dark Wizard was planning to do, because no letters with demands had been either sent to the Ministry or the Malfoys. Slowly, as the days passed by without news of either man the reporters started wondering whether they had died and demanded the Aurors to tell them what was going on.
The Aurors refused, saying they didn't want to mess up the investigation.
Three weeks after Draco had been whisked away, he and Potter emerged suddenly. The picture – blazoning right in the middle of the front page, taking up the majority of the available space – showed them both supporting each other, their robes more rags than clothes and streaks of blood coated their faces and hands. Potter looked grim and exhausted, his wand dangling in his right hand, and Draco looked dead on his feet.
Draco had expected to remember something, anything from that particular period by staring at the picture, but nothing. There were some vague stirrings of him and Potter stumbling out of a cellar, the putrid smell of blood and gore lingering around them, as they made their way outside. But that was all. He couldn't recall what exactly had happened to the Dark Wizard – he could hazard a guess judging by the amount of blood on them and swallowed – but he thought Potter had battled him. Somehow. Then they had got their wands back and had made their way back to London. It all seemed rather anticlimactic and Draco really wanted to know what had happened during those three weeks he had been a captive.
The article itself – spread out across five pages, because of course they couldn't keep an article about Potter's heroic return contained to just one page – didn't provide much information about their time with the Dark Wizard. He himself had refused to answer any question and Potter had evaded replying to most questions concerning what had happened during his time away.
"I don't know exactly what he wanted," Auror Potter says after he got cleaned up and the Healer took care of his wounds. "He seemed to have lost his mind, saying something about wanting more power."
"What did he do to you and Malfoy during those weeks you had been captured?"
"We were mostly kept in a cellar," our Hero answers and his eyes look haunted; evidence that whatever he endured in that place is not something to be taken lightly. "We managed to distract him eventually and I duelled him. Mister Malfoy and I escaped after I defeated him."
"How did you distract him? What was Malfoy's role in all of this?"
"I can't answer any more questions, sorry. The investigation is still ongoing."
A couple of more articles were dedicated to the case in the following days after their return, but once it became clear that neither Potter, nor the Ministry, nor the Malfoy family would tell the press more, the reporters gave up, not wanting to ruin their chances of getting future interviews with their Saviour.
Draco placed the Prophets back onto the shelf and stared at them with a frown. He knew the chances of actually finding out what had happened during that time through the newspapers had been rather slim, but he had wanted to try. He should have realised that Potter would remain tight-lipped about whatever had taken place in that cellar. Especially given how bloodied they both had looked in the picture.
He gritted his teeth and rose up again, running a hand through his hair. What had happened in that cellar that would have made him throw away his future in exchange for Potter?
What had changed between them in that cellar?
"Oh, Draco, how is the brewing going?" Mother asked surprised, looking up from the book she was perusing. She was sitting in the parlour; her blonde hair glittering in the bright sunlight.
"It's going," he muttered, taking a seat next to her. "I just finished an order for Saint Mungos."
While he was still studying, he had been approached by the hospital to brew some common potions for them every few months. They didn't trust him, but they did trust his potion skills. He didn't care about their opinion about him; as long as they didn't try to screw him over and paid him what he was due, he would brew for them until he found better contracts.
"That's good," she hummed, turning the page. "Something on your mind?"
He hesitated, leaning back into the chair. Now that he was here, he started doubting his decision to question mother about his disappearance. He didn't want to rankle up bad memories – Merlin knew mother had enough of those after living through two wars. He needed to know, however, and at the moment he felt like he could only trust his mother to be truthful.
"I wanted to ask you something," he started slowly and outside a white peacock ambled lazily past; its pure white feathers gleaming in the sunlight.
Mother paused and closed the book, letting it rest on her lap as she folded her hands on top of it. "What do you want to ask?" she inquired; all her attention fully focused on her son.
"Do you – remember my being captured three years ago?"
Her eyes shuttered close and her face resembled that of a statue more than of a living being. "It's rather difficult to forget a time when I feared I would never see my son again," she murmured and her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the cover of her book.
He grimaced. "I'm sorry, it's just – I was told today that Potter and I went out for the first time a month after we freed ourselves."
"Yes, you did," Mother confirmed and her hold on the book relaxed somewhat.
"Do you know why I decided to ask him out?" he inquired and felt himself flush slightly at the inane question. "I gather something must have happened during the time we were both captured, but I don't know what."
Furrowing her eyebrows slightly, she tapped a finger against her lips. "Not exactly. You didn't want to discuss what had happened during your captivity." Her mouth briefly tightened. "You did confess that you thought Harry was the main reason why you hadn't lost your mind back then."
"So I went after him out of a sense of obligation?" he questioned horrified; eyes widening. Was that it? Had he felt indebted to Potter and had he asked the other man out on a date as a way to pay him back? If so, why had he continued the dating until it had turned into a relationship?
"No, no!" Mother hastened to say, shaking her head with a rueful smile. "Perhaps I worded it wrongly. No, Draco, you didn't do it out of obligation – would you really ask someone out on a date merely because you felt obliged for some reason?" She quirked an eyebrow.
Reluctantly he shook his head. He loathed being indebted to someone, but he would get rid of those debts by either exchanging money or favours in the form of potions. But if not because of debt, why had he decided to pursue Potter then? Nothing made sense and he had more questions than answers.
"Then why did I go after him?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, my dragon. You weren't forthcoming with the exact reason. The only one who could give you a complete answer would be Harry." Blue eyes looked at him pointedly.
He clenched his jaw and looked away, knowing that she was right and hating it. If he wanted to have his questions answered, he'd have to talk to Potter, but he really wasn't in the mood to discuss their supposed relationship. Why was it so difficult to just get some of his questions answered?
"You can't keep avoiding him," Mother remarked quietly, but disapproval ran like an undercurrent through her voice and he flinched slightly.
"I'm not avoiding him," he protested stiffly.
"The hours spent here beg to differ," she retorted calmly.
"My lab is here," he replied snidely; his fingers curling like claws around the arm of his chair.
"That it is," she hummed in agreement. "But that did not keep you from spending time with Harry before."
Anger flashed up and he abruptly rose up. "I have a couple more orders to finish," he said coldly, needing to leave before he would actually start a fight with his mother.
"I won't keep you here then," Mother answered and her voice was noticeably cooler as well. "Before you go, I have a request."
"Which is?"
"Bring Harry to the manor this weekend for lunch. It's become tradition for you two to visit each weekend," she stated, opening her book again. "My sister and her grandson will be here too. Teddy appeared especially anxious to see his uncle again."
Draco gritted his teeth, but knew all too well that there was nothing he could say in protest. Mother wasn't suggesting they visited them this weekend, but practically ordering it and nobody went against Narcissa's wishes – not unless they were lacking in intelligence.
"Fine," he muttered and stormed out of the room before his magic had a chance to react to his anger.
He wondered why he had expected to get some real answers; it became apparent that the universe was doing everything in its might to spite him.
"Ah yeah, Andromeda Fire-called me about it this afternoon," Potter mused as he directed the dirty dishes to the sink where a sponge was already scrubbing glasses clean.
"So we really visit my parents each weekend?" Draco asked sceptically, still seated at the kitchen table. He had returned earlier than usual, too worked up from his conversation with Narcissa to be able to concentrate decently on his brewing. Lessened concentration could have deadly consequences when dealing with potentially volatile potions, so he had decided that it would be in his best interest to retire to his home sooner.
He had been home for half an hour when Potter had come stumbling out of the fireplace, clearly shocked at seeing the blond man already home. He had been smart enough not to say anything about it and had instead announced he would start their dinner.
Potter glanced at him before returning his attention to the dishes. "Yes, unless I'm on a case or you're too busy with brewing," he answered and shrugged.
"I imagine that's mostly my mother's idea and not my father's," Draco remarked dryly, remembering the look Lucius had thrown Potter back at the hospital.
The dark haired man snorted and flicked his wand at the dishtowel, murmuring a spell that set the cloth in motion to dry off the dishes. "Yes, Lucius is not exactly enthusiastic about these lunches, but Narcissa insists on them."
And what Narcissa wanted, she got was the unspoken statement hanging between them in the air.
Potter cleared his throat and leant back against the kitchen counter, folding his arms in front of his stomach. His wand dangled with its tip down to the floor. "Caley shared your information with the rest of us."
Draco grunted, but didn't say anything. What was there to say?
"Thanks to you, we've managed to eliminate quite some cases already," the other man continued cautiously, offering a weak smile.
"You still think my case is connected to others?" the blond man questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Makes more sense than a random attack," Potter replied and rolled his shoulders.
"I'm not exactly short on enemies," Draco couldn't help but point out snidely again.
The patient look green eyes gave him made him bristle with irritation. "No, but their modus operandi was too specific for it to be just a general attack. If they hated you because of your name, your past or even your brewing skills, I think they would attack you in other ways than just removing your memories. They didn't even just steal random memories or your memories as a whole, but specific ones all tied to our relationship. Something more is going on here than just simple hatred or desire for revenge."
Draco pressed his lips tightly together, but silently admitted Potter was right. He wasn't a stranger to being attack because of who he was or what he had done in the past, but those attacks had generally aimed to disable him, hurt him severely or even kill him. Sure, he had sustained some injuries during this particular attack, but stealing certain memories seemed indeed a strange way to get back at him or punish him.
Unless they were all overthinking it and these scumbags were just insane and thought they could hit him where it hurt by taking away his memories of Potter and their relationship. Too bad for them, but he wasn't particularly feeling hurt by it.
Talking about attacks, though …
"Tomorrow we'll look through the remaining cases and see if there are any similarities to yours," Potter went on; a contemplative look crossing his face. "We've got full access to all the cases, so now it's a matter of - "
"I talked to Millicent this morning," Draco cut him off. His need to know the truth outweighed his reluctance to discuss their relationship after all and Potter was the only one who could answer his questions.
Green eyes blinked bemused. "Okay," Potter said slowly, cocking his head to the left.
"She told me something … interesting."
"What?"
"She said we started dating a month after we escaped from a Dark Wizard," Draco continued and grey eyes sharpened when they saw a hint of discomfort flashing across the younger man's face.
"We did," Potter admitted after a short, tense silence. His shoulders tightened perceptibly.
"The papers weren't very forthcoming with information about this Dark Wizard and mother couldn't tell me much either," Draco went on nonchalantly.
A sigh left Potter and he pursed his lips, his eyes growing noticeably darker. "Just ask what you want, Draco."
The casual use of his first name still irked the blond wizard, but he had more important matters to think about now. "First off, what did that Dark Wizard want with the both of us?"
Potter grimaced and rubbed his upper left arm. "The man was insane," he began after a short pause. "He wanted to experiment with the nature of magic. He wanted to find out whether all magic was the same and it just depended on how we used it or whether there was a significant difference between the magic of a Light person and that of a Dark person."
"What?" A frown creased the older man's forehead as he tried to work out what the dark haired wizard was talking about. "So he thought that people are either born with Dark or Light magic instead of us making those choices?"
"Yes and he needed test subjects to prove that. He decided that prominent figures of both sides would work the best." Potter scowled at the floor.
"And he decided I was a prominent figure of the Dark side?" Draco deduced and didn't know whether to be offended or flattered by the assumption.
"No offence, Draco, but most people don't assign your family to the Light side," Potter retorted and he sounded apologetic. "Your father was quite high ranked in Voldemort's circle," he ignored Draco's angry hiss, "even after you know … And the Malfoy family isn't exactly lacking in magical strength either, so he went after you."
"And for the Light side, he chose you," Draco added and that actually made sense, because even he could admit that Potter didn't lack in magical prowess either. If anyone was a paragon of the Light side, it was Potter now that Dumbledore was dead.
Potter nodded.
"So how exactly did he want to test that?"
"I didn't care to listen to his theory," Potter answered dryly, but disgust rang clearly through his voice. "But he used a variety of spells to keep us both bound in one place and then forced our magic to the surface to study it."
Draco grimaced. While not knowing exactly which spells the Dark Wizard had used, he had read enough about magic and the way it worked – as much as anyone could theorise about it – and knew that forcing one's magic to rise up made for an incredibly painful experience for the victim. The books had described it as being boiled alive, heat so scorching hot and vicious there were no real words to describe the agony of it. Too long experiencing that and one went insane.
All of a sudden mother's remark made a lot more sense.
"People go insane when their magic is forced to the surface for too long," he spoke slowly, recalling the amount of time he had spent at the Dark Wizard's mercy.
Potter inclined his head and smiled wryly. "He was smart enough not to force our magic for too long. After all, his experiment would fail if we went insane or died too quickly," he added bitterly.
"What happened to him?" But even before he noticed green eyes shuttering close, he knew the answer; the picture in the paper had been a glaring clue as well. "You killed him, didn't you?"
"It was either him or us," Potter said quietly and his whole body was unnaturally still; his face a blank mask. "The choice was quickly made in that case."
Draco swallowed and for the first time since waking up and having lost his memory, he felt something akin to both admiration and apprehension when looking at the pregnant man in front of him. Potter didn't strike him as someone who enjoyed killing – not like his Aunt Bellatrix had done or the Dark Lord or Greyback – but Draco had no problem imagining him being absolutely ruthless if the situation forced him to be so.
"How many people know that you killed him?" he inquired after a moment of silence, only broken by the sound of dishes being done.
"Only a select few, including Shacklebolt, my friends and well, you," Potter responded; his face still strangely blank. "We didn't think it was prudent to let too many people know about it in case they got any ideas." His upper lip curled up in a sneer.
The frown on Draco's forehead increased as he realised what was wrong with that answer. "Then how come Millicent seemed to know about it?" She had given him the impression to know quite a lot about the case, even if she had remained tight-lipped about it and wouldn't answer any of his other questions about it.
"Because the Dark Wizard was an Unspeakable – one of her colleagues."
AN2: Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I'll see you all on the 30th of June for the fourth chapter!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Nothing, Everything