Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Nothing, Everything	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 10224 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Author's note: This one was a bit harder to write for some reason - mainly the ending of a certain scene - but I managed it somehow. I hope it isn't too bad!
Thanks to the following reviewers: SickPuppy; RequiredReading (Why not? I'm interested in your reasoning :) ); SP777 (Happy belated birthday!)
Warnings: eh, drama I suppose. The warnings haven't changed much since the first chapter; small time skip
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 4
"Millicent didn't tell me that," Draco replied sourly after a brief moment of surprise.
"No, I can imagine she wouldn't be keen on telling you that," Potter retorted mildly.
"Is that the reason why you dislike the Unspeakables? Millicent mentioned that," Draco added as explanation.
"Well, that certainly didn't improve my opinion on them," Potter answered with a snort. "I'm just not fond of people keeping secrets and considering it's their job to work with secrets, well … We clash, let's keep it at that."
Draco wetted his lips as he contemplated how to form his next question. It was the most pressing one he had at the moment, but it was also the most uncomfortable one to ask. He didn't have much of a choice, though, if he wanted to get to the bottom of this.
"So why did we start dating?" he asked after a moment; his stomach doing an odd flip. "Getting kidnapped and basically tortured might be a good romance recipe for novels, but it doesn't work like that in real life. So what happened between us when we were there?"
Potter rubbed his wrist and sighed. "We started talking," he replied slowly. "We were all alone in that cellar and after getting our magic forced to the surface like that we needed something to keep us … grounded I suppose. At first we fought; you blamed me for what had happened, I defended myself, but after a couple of days of our magic being messed with, I guess we were too tired to fight anymore."
Draco frowned; not really liking the way this conversation was going.
"So then we just … talked. About anything and nothing. You told me about how you grew up and I shared some things about my childhood. We, eh, apologised for what we did to each other." Potter vaguely waved towards the blond's chest, which still bore scars from the Sectumsempra he had been hit by in their sixth year. "Talking with each other became something we … needed after the sessions we were put through."
"So what? We kept each other sane, you mean?"
"I suppose you could say it was like that," Potter agreed reluctantly.
"While this explains a few things, it still doesn't explain why I wanted to ask you out," Draco pointed out, narrowing his eyes slightly.
An explosive sigh left the dark haired man. "I don't know, Draco. We'd become pretty close by the time I managed to take the Unspeakable down. We met up a couple of times after that and during one of those times you asked me out. I think Ron nearly had an aneurysm when he heard about that." He chuckled at the memory.
"Why did you say yes?" Draco pressed on, still not entirely convinced of the story. It sounded all way too easy. Why would them confiding in each other lead to Draco wanting to date him?
A dark eyebrow was raised. "Because I wanted to."
Merlin, but Potter loved being infuriating, didn't he?
"But why?" Draco asked stubbornly, not willing to accept that kind of answer.
Potter threw his hands up in the air and looked at him exasperatedly. "Because when we talked, I realised there was more to you than the spoilt, annoying git I had known in school, okay? And I wanted to get to know you better, because I was interested."
The blond wizard paused and mulled that over. "Did I say why I wanted to date you?"
"Only that you were interested in me and wanted to see what would happen between us," Potter answered clipped and shrugged.
"Well, that answer doesn't help me at all," Draco huffed irritated, tapping his fingers rapidly on the table.
Briefly Potter closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I don't know what you want me to tell you, okay?" he said, sounding put out. "We started dating because we're interested in each other and from there our relationship grew."
"Are you certain we weren't under the influence of a spell?" Draco demanded suspiciously.
Immediately the temperature in the room plummeted and he tensed, eyeing the other wizard warily while his own hand crept towards his wand.
Potter offered him a cold smile, so eerily reminiscent of one Draco had seen adorning the Dark Lord's face that it made him shudder involuntarily and stiffen up.
"Oh no, we weren't under the influence of a spell. I can assure you we were both lucid when we made the decision to date. If you don't believe me, go ask your father. He was … very thorough in inspecting you for all kinds of curses, spells and potions, because he couldn't believe either that we genuinely like each other." His cold smile deepened, if possible, even more and he brought his hand to his chest in a mocking gesture of apology. "So I'm sorry to tell you this, Draco, but you fell in love with me of your own volition."
Draco jumped and couldn't supress a flinch when the door of one of the cabinets slammed shut. Potter straightened himself from the counter, stuffing his wand into his pocket.
"I'm going to bed," he announced curtly. "I'll see you in the morning – or not." He left the kitchen without looking back once and somewhere there was the sound of glass shattering.
Well, at least Potter's temper hadn't changed in all these years. Draco wasn't certain whether he was really comforted by that thought.
When Draco went back home on Friday evening and removed his robes – some mustard yellow stains were splattered on his sleeves when the potion he had been working on exploded and he made a mental note to get a house elf to clean it – he paused when he heard footsteps upstairs. Glancing at the clock he saw that it was six thirty and he quirked an eyebrow.
Was Potter home already?
A bit wary he slowly made his way upstairs, letting himself be led by the muted sounds of footsteps and the rustling of paper. He ended up in front of the last room of the first floor, of which the door stood slightly ajar. He recalled Potter telling him this was the study he used when he brought cases home with him, but he couldn't remember ever hearing Potter move around in this room.
He smiled wryly; perhaps it was difficult to remember such a thing when he hadn't been interested in spending much time in this house.
"Are you going to keep standing there or are you going to come in?" Potter suddenly called out, startling the blond man.
A bit chagrined at being caught – and he really should have known better than to think he would be left undetected by a trained Auror – he pushed open the door and took a step inside, surveying the room quickly.
It was a bit smaller than the guest room Draco had been using for nearly two weeks now. There was one window, half covered by long, dark blue drapes. The walls were a light blue and the floor was devoid of any carpet or rug, showing polished wooden planks. The walls on either side of the door were hidden behind bookcases and those were filled with several files, books – both new and old – and even a couple of vials that might or might not be empty. Right next to the window was a desk and Potter was seated at it; his back to Draco as he was writing something down.
"You're home early," Potter remarked casually, twisting around a bit so he could look at the older man.
"Didn't have much luck with a new potion I've been attempting to brew for the past few days," Draco admitted begrudgingly. He nodded towards the file lying open in front of the dark haired man. "Don't get enough of reading through files that you have to take some home with you?"
Potter snorted, placing his quill down. "Ron has a date night with Hermione and I figured I might as well take some files home so I can read them in peace. It tends to get rather noisy at the department on Friday evening."
"Still trying to find a link between the cases?" Draco inquired, leaning against the doorjamb.
This time Potter turned around completely, sitting backwards on his chair with his arms leaning on top of it and his legs on either side of it. Draco barely held back his sneer at the uncouth posture.
"We actually did find links between several cases today," Potter answered gleefully and his eyes glinted smugly. "So far we've already discovered six other cases similar to yours and now I'm looking through the remaining ten to see if any others pop up. Starting next week we will question these people again. Maybe they might remember something else now."
Draco was a bit stunned at the declaration and he straightened up in surprise. "How recent are these cases?"
"Depends on your definition of recent," Potter replied and shrugged. He cast a glance at the file behind him before turning back to the blond wizard. "The oldest one so far dates back ten months ago; the most recent one – bar yours – is seven weeks ago."
"And what's the link between them?" Draco demanded, taking a step closer; intrigued against his will.
"Links," Potter corrected him. "All the victims are either convicted Death Eaters or were at least strongly suspected of being a Death Eater. They all mention being attacked by three people whose faces they couldn't see and at least four of them mention missing memories of loved ones. Until we have talked to them again, we don't know whether their amnesia is similar to yours, but at the moment it does appear to be the case."
Those cases were … indeed too similar to his to be just a coincidence. "So whoever is behind this, is targeting Death Eaters?" Draco asked slowly; his hands clenching into fists so tightly he felt the sharp sting of his nails biting into his skin.
"Death Eaters or suspected ones who are free," Potter clarified; his voice quieter than before. "So far we haven't received any reports of people breaking into Azkaban to attack Death Eaters there, so I suppose it's safe to assume the group is targeting only the ones outside of prison."
"What? They think they know better than the Wizengamot?" Draco sneered.
Potter held up his hands placatingly. "That or they're taking revenge for something," he said and frowned. He snatched a piece of parchment out of the file and held it in front of him. "So far, though, I haven't been able to link either one of your enemies to ones the others mentioned. If your attackers are people on this list, they're either working with others or they are remarkably well at covering their tracks so that we can't find a common link."
The dark haired man sighed and dropped the list back on the desk, before raking his hands through his hair, messing it up even further. "I'm going to take the list with me when we talk to the other victims and check whether they recognise someone on it."
"I thought you said you were on desk duty," Draco pointed out with a frown and he couldn't stop himself from quickly looking down. He couldn't see Potter's stomach, naturally, hidden as it was behind the chair.
Potter quirked an eyebrow and looked strangely amused. "I am," he confirmed, crossing his arms on top of the chair again. "But that only means I can't go into battles or confront actual suspects. It doesn't mean I can't interview victims or witnesses. Besides, if I have to stay cooped up in that office for the next six months, I'll go insane."
"You could be attacked on your way to the victims' homes," the blond wizard remarked pointedly.
"Worried? Don't be. I know how to defend myself," Potter riposted calmly and twirled his wand between his fingers. Green eyes slipped to the clock hanging next to the bookcase and he winced. "Ah damn, I didn't know it was this late already. I'll start on dinner."
"I could cook," Draco blurted out and grimaced. He hadn't intended on making that particular offer at all, but it didn't set well with him that Potter could act this friendly with him after the way they had parted last night. And yes, perhaps he did feel slightly guilty about inquiring whether or not they had been cursed to fall in love with each other, but well, he just had wanted to be certain. What was wrong with that?
Grey eyes stared surprised at the younger man, who had thrown his head back and was laughing merrily. Emerald green eyes glittered when Potter lowered his head again to meet his gaze; a grin still playing around his mouth.
"No offense, Draco, but while you're a master in brewing potions, I definitely have more skills in the kitchen," Potter chuckled and rose up from his chair, pushing it against the desk before closing the file. "Just trust me on this: it's better for the both of us if I do the cooking here." He winked and then directed the files with his wand into one of the bookcases. That done, he made his way to the door.
"I was thinking of making fish, salmon perhaps or codfish," Potter mused. "With potato salad. Which do you want: salmon or codfish?" He looked expectantly at the older wizard when he paused in front of him.
Draco stared back at him, frankly amazed at how light hearted Potter was around him now. Yesterday he had looked close to cursing the hell out of him, but now he was laughing and discussing dinner as if nothing bad had happened between them.
It made something twist inside of him.
"I'm sorry for what I said last night," Draco said; his heartbeat all of a sudden quite loud in his ears. He swallowed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, feeling oddly defensive. "I – shouldn't have asked something like that. That was out of line and I apologise."
Potter sobered up and regarded him carefully. Slowly he nodded. "Apology accepted," he murmured and took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly. "So codfish or salmon?" he repeated in a forced light tone.
"Codfish," Draco muttered and watched how Potter slipped past him and went downstairs, his shoulders stiff under the blond's scrutiny.
How strange was it that a rude question of Draco made Potter dish out coldness like it was nothing, but an apology made him awkward?
"And when I learn how to fly, you promise I can ride on your Nimbus!" five year old Teddy chirped, dragging his plate with a piece of chocolate cake towards him. It was his second piece so far and judging by the way he was eying the rest of the chocolate cake with its vanilla frosting, he wouldn't say no to a third serving either.
"No, your cousin did not promise such a thing, Teddy and you know that very well," Aunt Andromeda admonished him sternly and Teddy pouted; his hair changing from honey blond to a dark brown.
"Did I not promise him how to learn to fly or did I not promise him he could use my Nimbus 2001?" Draco asked amused, taking a bite out of his own cake. It was delicious as always; the chocolate basically melting on his tongue.
"You and Harry promised to teach him once he turns six, but we all agreed that he will first fly on a children's broom," she explained and looked pointedly at her grandson.
"But the Nimbus is faster!" Teddy protested; eyes this time turning into a deep purple.
Draco wondered whether there was a specific meaning attached to each colour or whether they were just randomly picked by the boy's magic.
"That may be so, but you're still too young to fly on that," Aunt Andromeda stated calmly and narrowed her eyes when the boy opened his mouth. "If you keep whining about it, Teddy, you'll have to wait until your first year in Hogwarts to learn how to fly," she warned him.
His pout worsened, but he sullenly returned to his chocolate cake and didn't attempt any further protest.
Draco smirked; the young boy amusing him more than he had expected.
"I'm Teddy Lupin." The young boy stepped forwards; big dark blue eyes aimed at Draco. "You're my cousin, but I call you Uncle Draco and Harry is my godfather, but I call him uncle too," he chattered, holding out his arms.
A bit bemused Draco bent his knees and picked his cousin up; grunting at the weight. The brown haired boy wrapped his arms around his neck; an action so familiar Draco assumed they had done this many times before.
"We always have fun together," Teddy continued solemnly and his eyes sparkled when they caught sight of Potter entering the foyer. "Uncle Harry!" Immediately he released Draco's neck with his right arm and held it out to Potter.
"Hello Teddy," Potter laughed and crossed the room, taking over his godson and settling him on his hip with an easiness Draco almost envied him for. "How have you been?"
A touch on his wrist made Draco turn away from the scene and he looked straight into apologetic dark eyes; similar to Bellatrix's but wider and infinitely more kinder.
"I explained to him that you had lost some memories of Harry and him. I guess he took that to mean that you wouldn't recognise him," Aunt Andromeda explained and smiled wryly.
So his aunt and cousin knew about his partial amnesia too, huh?
He breathed out slowly and shrugged. "It's all right. I guess it's better than him being disappointed later on when I can't remember something I did with him," he said lightly.
"He'll be more than happy to fill you in on everything you can't remember at the moment," she remarked dryly and then went over to Potter to kiss him on his cheek as a greeting.
"Now that you're better again, does this mean I can go to your house again?" Teddy questioned; the corners of his mouth smeared with chocolate.
"Eh." Draco blinked bemused, taken aback by the odd request.
"Normally Teddy visits you at your place a couple of times each week," Aunt Andromeda clarified. "But Harry thought it was better if Teddy stayed away for a while to give you some time to adjust."
Draco started. "Did he now?" he murmured and his eyes automatically shot towards the seat Potter had occupied for lunch. It was empty now and a light frown creased his forehead when he realised that his mother was gone too.
"They went back inside a while ago," Father remarked flatly, accepting his own plate with dessert from one of the house elves. He had gone inside to deal with a Floo call and had just returned to the garden where they had eaten lunch.
Struck by a sudden bout of curiosity – what were they talking about? – Draco rose up from his chair, ignoring his father's narrowed gaze.
"Uncle Draco, can I go to your house again?" Teddy implored, looking a bit put out at not having received an answer immediately.
"I'll think about it, Teddy," Draco replied absentmindedly and strode towards the manor, ignoring Teddy's huff.
A house elf cleaning the bust of his ancestor Septimus Malfoy turned around and bowed. "Master Malfoy," he greeted.
"Where did my mother and Potter go?" he inquired.
"The first study on the left on the first floor, Master Malfoy," the house elf answered and returned to his cleaning after Draco had nodded.
He couldn't explain why he felt the need to know what Potter was talking about with mother. For all he knew they could be discussing something related to the baby, but if that was the case, they might as well have done that during lunch. So what was important enough for them to retire into the manor where no one would hear them?
Having learnt from his mistake last night, he cast both a Muffle Charm on his feet and a No Noticing Me Spell on himself. Those should be enough to fool an Auror whose attention was focused on a conversation. When he reached the landing of the first floor, he noticed that they hadn't cared to close the door completely – probably in the assumption that everyone else would remain downstairs.
"… so Ron and I will start the interviews on Monday," Potter was saying and Draco realised that they were discussing his case.
His frown deepened; surely a conversation like that could have been hold downstairs?
"That's good to hear," Mother murmured and there was the sound of her gown rustling against the floor. "But I asked you how you felt – not what you are doing at your work, Harry." Her voice carried a slight chiding tone.
"I'm fine, don't worry," Potter sighed.
There was a pause and Draco imagined mother raising an eyebrow in that sceptical manner she had whenever she suspected her son of lying.
"Really, Narcissa, I'm fine," Potter repeated wearily.
"How are things going with Draco?"
Another pause. "They're going," he answered warily.
"Harry."
"Look, it's fine, okay? I knew what I was getting myself into. The Healer was more than clear about that," Potter retorted sourly. "It's barely been two weeks, so I'd say we're doing as well as we can in this situation."
"Has he at least tried to talk to you about your relationship?"
"He did," Potter answered humourlessly. "It went … less than stellar but I shouldn't have expected anything else. It's just … I feel like I'm living with a stranger now. Wait, no, not a stranger. I know this Draco, but it's a Draco I thought I wouldn't have to see ever again."
Muffled footsteps walked back and forth as if the owner of them was pacing. "I just don't know what to do now. I know he has lost all his memories of us and I know it's been barely two weeks now and I shouldn't expect more, but … I just don't know, Narcissa. If he can barely stand to be around me now, what the hell are we supposed to do when the baby comes?"
"Do you want me to talk to him?" Mother offered; her voice softer than Draco had ever heard it be before.
Potter laughed self-deprecatingly. "And then being accused of trying to turn you against him? No, thank you. I can handle it, don't worry."
"Harry," she said disapprovingly.
"I can handle it," he repeated. "We'll figure it out somehow. We got past our rivalry once before, so we should be able to do this again. I'm not going to let them win. They've taken his memories from him, but I'm not going to allow them to take him from me completely."
Draco had heard enough. Swiftly he turned around and walked back downstairs; a sour taste coating his mouth.
They made him sound like the bad guy for not reacting like they wanted him to react. It hadn't even been two weeks since he had woken up – couldn't they all just give him a bloody break?!
And Potter, the everlasting martyr, who they all pitied because his fiancé wasn't treating him like they felt he should. Why was nobody feeling sorry for Draco when he was the one who had lost his memories?
Why was he suddenly the bad guy?
Maybe I could borrow some of these books, Draco mused as his eyes roamed across the various titles on the shelf. There was one about brewing in special conditions that especially called out to him.
It was Sunday, a week after he had seen Teddy for the first time again and he was currently visiting Blaise. He needed a break from brewing and spending the entire day with Potter hadn't exactly sounded appealing. Things weren't exactly bad between them now – even if Draco was still quite annoyed at what he had heard in that study – but that had mostly to do with the fact that they had barely seen each other this past week. Potter was busy interviewing the other victims and Draco was working on several orders. He had to go back soon, because Teddy was due to visit them in a few hours, but for now he still had some Potter free time at Blaise's place.
Pansy was here too, having arrived half an hour after Draco and was currently discussing her latest shopping trip, though Draco was mostly tuning her out. He couldn't really be bothered to listen to how many robes she had bought in which colours and definitely wasn't interested in the pairs of shoes that went well with them.
"So I bought those clothes for him. They should automatically expand," Pansy concluded her tale of her shopping trip, sounding satisfied.
"You think he's going to be happy with a gift like that?" Blaise questioned amused.
"He will be once he sees how good he'll look in them," she sniffed haughtily. "Really, he might be one of the best in his field, but he's an absolute disaster when it comes to clothes."
"We can't all be fashionistas like you, Pansy," Draco remarked amused, slotting himself back into the conversation. He walked back to his chair and addressed Blaise, "You mind parting with some of your books for a while?"
"Knock yourself out," Blaise answered, waving his hand lazily. "At least then they'll actually have a use outside of filling the shelves."
"So, Draco, what are you getting him for his birthday?" Pansy inquired, leaning forwards. Her dark brown hair slipped over her shoulders like water.
Grey eyes gazed at her blankly. "Get what for whose birthday?"
She narrowed her eyes and pursed her mouth slightly. "Don't tell me you forgot! Potter's birthday of course!"
"It's the thirty-first of this month, remember," Blaise added, raising an eyebrow.
Ah fuck.
AN2: Not really a cliffhanger, right?
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
Next time: Harry's birthday and the return of another character.
I see you all back on the 14th of July!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Nothing, Everything