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No Outlet for Anger	By : wherdatcomfrom Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5486 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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AN: Another update! I might actually get to where I'm consistent.

delia cerrano: Those poor Weasleys. They get so little lovin. You are right about the angst, though. Here's some now.

Kain: Thanks. Sorry this one took so long. I'm out of school for the summer, and trying to tie up one or two of these. This one's got some ways to go, but How do YOU like it? is nearly done, as is the Epilogue tale. Hope you like those, too.

Anon: Are you the same Anon, or a new one? Anyway, glad you're likin' my stuff. Hope this chapter meets with your approval. This sort of started as a response to a poly/sci class I took, so it may go someplace strange. I originally thought of making it a Harry/Draco friends story, but that doesn't go over too well around here. So, there it is.

Chapter Four: Auror

Losing Astoria had been the final blow in a series and he was near the end of his ability to tolerate it. The smell of tea, strong and bitter, Oolong he was sure, and the sight of scones, brought him to coherence.

He picked up the cup and sipped at the hot brew, savoring a treat his family had foregone for the time that his son was in school. It rolled down his throat and warmed him from the inside out. He eyed the scones as he took a second sip, but didn’t reach for one, afraid to show the auror how hungry he was.

"Have one." the auror said and Draco’s eyes rose to focus on the green orbs of his warden. "Go ahead. They’re good. I couldn’t poison them, you know. I’m rubbish at potions."

The identity of this auror had still not registered and Draco cautiously reached out for the proffered treat. The biscuit was sweet and flaky, just moist enough to compliment his tea. He almost reached for the creamer, but jerked his hand back nervously.

The auror’s hand reached out and lifted the little pitcher, pouring the chalky liquid into his cup. "Is that enough?" the man asked and Draco nodded quickly. "Are you ready to talk?"

Draco jumped at the question, putting the cup down and shaking his head slowly. "Veritaserum." he sighed and looked up, ready to be questioned under the influence of the potion.

"No. There’s nothing in there, but tea." the auror said and Draco focused on him.

"Potter?" he said, finally placing the green eyes that had been watching him intently. "Why?"

"Why, what?" Harry asked "Why am I helping you? Why didn’t I drug your tea? Why do I believe you and not the unspeakable?"

"Why is this happening? Haven’t I paid enough?" Draco spat the last, the gasped when he realized the possible ramifications. "No! I mean, why do you have a place like this to go to?"

Harry caught the reaction but chose to focus on the last question. He looked around before returning his gaze to the other wizard. "Sometimes, I need to go somewhere quiet."

"I hate quiet!" Draco insisted. "And dark."

"That I understand. " Harry agreed. "Things that wait in the dark are more dangerous than the things we can see. I know that. Cooke was lying, because I saw your wife at the train station. She looked well and I haven’t heard anything about her meeting with an accident or illness, since. I don’t really follow you, but I do keep my eyes and ears open. I know what people say, and do, and how some feel about you and your family."

"Don’t send me to Azkaban. I’m all my son has." Draco suddenly begged.

"I’m not gonna . . . Oh, I’m not arresting you. I brought you here to talk. Just talk. Tell me about your son. I’ll bet he got sorted into Slytherin." Harry prodded.

"Just like your son got put with the lions. So, what?" Draco attempted a sneer, but it was weak. Harry pushed the plate of scones closer.

"My sons aren’t extensions of me. Yes, my oldest is in Gryffindor, but Albus is a snake." The shock this produced was worth it in the end and Harry chuckled. "Didn’t your son tell you?"

"Scorpius sent me a note stating his house and a copy of his class schedule. He’s busy trying to do well." Draco muttered something else that Harry didn’t catch.

"Ah, Scorpius. Well, I have it from my son that his new best mate is named Scorpius and that they are going to prove Slytherin is the best house of all " Harry smiled proudly as Draco gaped at him. "He didn’t tell me that it was your son, but the name is a dead give away. The only other Slytherin is from Italy, so it couldn’t have been your child."

"Scorpius is friends with your son? Amazing. " Draco managed as he subconsciously picked up another muffin. Harry watched him chew it with relish and an idea came to him.

"Look, I have more questions, but it’s nearly lunch. I’m going to order something. I can’t detain you, if you have another appointment, but if your free, I’ll treat you to a meal in exchange for your time."

Draco looked up and weighed the options. It was his day off, hence his ability to visit and the delay of two days in his search, so he didn’t need to go. There was precious little to eat at home, and Potter’s logic removed the stigma of charity from the offer. "I can spare some time." he said.

"Fine, then. What would you like to eat?" Harry asked.

Draco considered this, thinking it a test, so he answered, "Soup and a sandwich will be fine."

Harry smiled. "Steak it is. Baked potato, salad, asparagus and rolls with lots of butter and I think some milk and pumpkin juice." Draco stared at him so he added, "And treacle tart for desert." The items listed popped up on a sheet of paper that hung in the air above the table and Harry amended, "For two." These words joined the others, then folded themselves into a swan and flew through the door.

"The Ministry doesn’t use houeselves, so it takes a little longer, but I know one of the chefs and he’ll personally make our meal. He’s magnificent."

When the food arrived, Harry had cleared away the tea and set the table with an elegant green tablecloth, some decent china and silver. Draco half expected him to put candles on the table and lower the lights, to add ambiance.

The food made up for the lack of atmosphere, in both bouquet and flavor. It reminded the blond of meals he had enjoyed at the manor through his childhood and the nostalgia made him ache. Harry watched him intently.

"How’s your mother?" the auror asked.

"How do you think?" Draco snapped, immediately regretting it.

Before he could grovel again, Harry spoke. "I like the way you relate to me. With us, there’s none of the false kowtowing that some purebloods use to appease the Ministry. We revert back to our school days. Well, if we got along at all back then."

Draco drew a deep breath, filled with the scent of medium rare steak and the cream sauce that was poured in generous amounts over the asparagus. "My mother is in good health, though her spirits are often in question. She’s good with children, so is unlikely to be losing her position, provided I do not cause her that distress."

"She likes her work?" Harry asked, spooning more softened butter onto Draco’s potato.

"She likes children. I doubt she considers them work. She doesn’t enjoy manual labor, cleaning up after them, doing her own laundry and cooking , but she’s adapted."

"Would she refuse an added quantity of allowable magic? I thought about arranging it as a birthday present for her. I owe her my life, you know."

"I’ve heard that. Were you the instrument that gained her such a chosen position?" Draco had often wondered about the power that Potter wielded post war.

"I made the suggestion. I encouraged those in control. I can put in requests for special allotments, so long as the recipient is not on any lists, and they tend to be approved. I want to do this, but not if she would resent it. I don’t want to ask her, because I wouldn’t want her to know it was me."

"If it could be given her as an incentive of good work, something she earned, she would appreciate it. Spells for cleaning and cooking are quite wasteful when magic is limited. Mother wouldn’t use them if it meant she was reduced to squib status for the rest of the month."

"Tell me about your wife. " Potter asked and Draco stiffened.

"She’s a pureblood. She did her time, paid the fines and gave me an heir, for what little I can leave him."

"When did she go missing?"

"Two days ago. She’s been ill, but kept it to herself. The . . . healer gave her little hope of recovery and suggested the Register."

"The Register? I’ve heard people talk about it, but I’m not sure what it is."

"Purebloods, or those who can’t afford proper care, or proper burial, have the option of signing up with the unspeakables. Those who go to them either come back healed or don’t come back at all. Those that are healed are usually changed in some way. Subtle most times, drastic at others."

"Do you think your wife chose this?"

"I think my . . healer did. I think he has made some deal that brings him profit when he arranges it."

"So, she may have been taken against her will?"

"She was taken against my will!"

"Okay, okay. Has anyone said what happened while they were there?"

"No one remembers being there. Almost no one remembers them being gone. Hardly anyone remembers there is a Registry, until they may consider it. I didn’t remember it, until the healer suggested it!"

"Who was this healer?" Harry decided to take a different tack.

"Underground. He comes when you call him by a special messenger. He won’t come to you or allow you to find him."

"I can be very persuasive. Tell me more about this messenger."

Draco shrugged and outlined as much as he knew, talking until they had finished the meal and he had run out of details. Potter escorted him up the lift and through the floo to the outside . They said goodbye on a London street.

The hex came from around the corner, and that was probably how the two boys managed to avoid it. Albus picked up the blond where he’d pushed Scorpius to the floor.

"If they were braver we’d have no chance," he said softly.

"So, they must be Ravenclaws." Scorpius joked.

"And our revenge will need to be more creative than it was for the Gryffindors. What do you say to some extra curricular potions practice?"

"Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom?" The blond suggested.

"My thoughts exactly. I was thinking of an advanced lesson."

"Do tell?" Scorpius begged.

"Not here. Too many ears." the other boy looked around at the straining faces in the portraits. "After transfigurations."

"Ooh, I hate that class. What’s Professor Brown’s problem, anyway?"

Albus shrugged. "Gryffindors." he said as they brushed their robs off and continued down the corridor.

They shared transfigurations with Hufflepuff and were easily the most talented among their peers. They were so good, in fact, that they became restless and distracted, giving the professor the means to find fault with them and take points away.

It frustrated Lavender that the two trouble makers were so good at her class that she couldn’t fault them for their work, as well. When they had changed their pets, the ferret and chameleon, into goblets three times, before the rest of the class had managed it once, Albus was so bored that he shot the spell across the room at a toad owned by a boy named Fergus Longbottom.

"It worked. I did it!" the boy shrieked and Lavender went to check on him. Albus turned to Scorpius and rolled his eyes.

The blond smiled, but both boys knew not to laugh, even the smallest snigger, or they’d both end up in detention, writing lines about interfering with instruction or annoying other students.

"Very good, Fergus. Now, turn it back." Professor Brown said and the boy tried. After several unsuccessful attempts, he became distraught.

"I’ve killed Leon! He’s a goblet now and I’ve no toad! How could you let us learn this if we could kill our pets?"

"Calm down, Fergus. Leon isn’t dead. Just change him back."

"I don’t bloody know how I changed him in the first place!"

"Mr. Longbottom, watch your language. I know you’re concerned, but I’d hate to have to take points."

"Points? I’m supposed to worry about points, when my best friend is a bloody goblet?"

"That’s it. Twenty points from Hufflepuff." Professor Brown shouted then turned the goblet back into a toad. Albus and Scorpius were careful not to react to either act.

James stood in the hallway outside of the library as Albus came out. The younger boy smiled to Madame Pince, who had a soft spot for his ‘angelic green eyes’ and let him get away with more than most of the students. Today, he had made a brief foray into the restricted section and copied a potion recipe from a book there.

"I can’t keep protecting you, you know." his brother snapped off as he arrived.

"I don’t recall asking for your help." Albus said as he began to walk down the hall. "What is it that you’ve done to help, anyway? Was it your suggesting that a bot-bogey hex was better than a cruciatus curse, perhaps?"

"I didn’t suggest any of it." James snapped. "Look, I don’t know why that bloody hat put you in Slytherin, and I’ve tried to get you out, but it would help if you acted like you didn’t belong there."

"But, James, " Albus said slickly. "I do. The hat knows more than you do about the students that come through those doors. Stop trying to get me out. Where would I go . . .to Gryffindor? No, thank you. I get enough of you bossing me about at home. To Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw? Even worse. And, stop trying to help me, it just makes the others try harder to hurt me, just to show you that they can. Loyalty is dead at Hogwarts, no matter what the Hufflepuffs say."

And Albus marched away, ignoring James’ attempts to call him back.

Harry had come up against another dead end. He closed the door to the records department, where aurors went to research the last know whereabouts of possible witnesses or criminal suspects. There was no record of activity on the movements of Astoria Greengrass Malfoy, other than to say she had failed to show up at work for several weeks. The last time she was seen was fifteen days before Malfoy said she disappeared. The file listed her as ‘believed deceased’ and gave no indication that any investigation was being made of her location.

If nothing else, this spoke of high level interference and that made the savior of the wizarding world very suspicious. He continued on his trip down to the lower floors, below the courts that most believed to occupy the lowest levels of the Ministry. Down to the floor where the most active and secretive portion of the political environs was housed.

Here, in the bowels of the earth, the only wizards more untouchable than the unspeakables did their daily mischief on the wizarding public. These were the undersecretaries to the wizengamut members, whose jobs often included performing memory charms on rivals and sweeping controversy and scandal under the proverbial rug, but for the price of some excess galleons, or a potential favor from a wizard of position or power, they could be convinced to betray their own mothers.

Harry stepped off the lift and nodded to the receptionist, before turning down the familiar hall towards his intended destination. A shock of flaming red hair and freckles met him as Percy lifted his head from the paperwork in front of him. "Harry? Good to see you. What brings you down here, today?"

"I need a favor." Harry began and Percy’s eyes glittered with the potential that statement brought.

Astoria had been gone for nearly two months and Draco had fallen into a routine. His work became rote and habit kept him from failing as he performed his daily duties. At home, he went about his meals, cleaning up and personal ablutions in a daze that had come to occupy the part of his consciousness that threatened to panic him when given free reign. The nights were long stretches of bad dreams and fitfulness that came with the encroaching darkness, and his lights were failing again.

Finally, he ventured to the Ministry on his day off and filed the request for an extension on his magic to power up the shields of his sanity. He waited for them for two hours before he was called into the office of Kenneth Towler, the head of the Magic Allocations Department. . . a Gryffindor, of course.

"Sit down, Malfoy. I see you are requesting another extension, but our records show that you are the only member of your family currently in residence at your home."

"Yes, sir." Draco replied with the perfect amount of respect. "My wife is missing and my son is at school."

"So, you should be able to maintain the house quite comfortably on your allotment. In fact, you should have been deducted by a margin, while you wife is residing elsewhere."

"She’s not residing elsewhere, she’s missing, Sir." Draco said without completely losing his temper. "My lights need to be refreshed. It’s just enough for one spell."

"No, I’m afraid I’ll have to deny this. I’ll overlook the overages for the past few weeks, but I’m decreasing your allotment by one third, until your wife returns. Come back then and reapply." Towler tapped Draco’s request with his wand, stamping it with a red mark then put it in his file. "That’s all. Go on." and the blond was dismissed.
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No Outlet for Anger