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Marathon	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 52456 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Forty-Four--Thunder in the Distance
            "You seem tired."
            Harry would have liked to speak sternly to refute that, but the yawn he gave when he opened his mouth just a little bit hurt his jaw. He raised a hand to cover it, realized it was useless with Draco on the other side of the kitchen table, watching him like that, and snorted. "You're right. I think that yesterday just wore me out. I can't recover from that so easily, even though I did have a good night's sleep."
            "I know. I was there."
            Harry grinned in response, was unable to stop another yawn, and turned to Kreacher, who was coming in with full plates of bacon, kippers, porridge, toast, tea, and what looked like slices of ham. "Well, at least I'll have breakfast to cheer me up."
            Draco started to reply, but his voice was lost in the banging of an owl on the front window. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Kreacher, go get that, please," he said. Once he would have bolted to reach it himself, convinced that it was an important message from the Aurors, but retirement had its benefits.
            Kreacher beamed up at him and popped away. Draco was looking at him with raised eyebrows himself. Harry shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "If you employ a house-elf, you may as well employ him," he said.
            Draco snorted something into his teacup. Then again, Harry didn't have to pay attention to him, either. So he managed to serenely ignore him until Kreacher returned with an angry owl on his shoulder and a bedraggled letter in his hand.
            "Is being from the nasty Aurors," said Kreacher, holding out the letter as if it had stung him and he had beaten it to death in response. "Is not to be harming Master Harry Potter sir!"
            Sometimes, Harry thought, as he cast the spells on the letter that would detect hexes and curses which Kreacher seemed to require of him, Kreacher is a lot like Dobby. "It's from them," he conceded when the Ministry seal flashed blue at him after one of the spells, "but it's not going to hurt me. Give it here, please, Kreacher."
            Kreacher glared at him, still cradling the letter close, and Harry was reminded of the disadvantages of sending a house-elf to fetch your post. "But what if Master Harry Potter sir is being harmed by something he forgot to check?"
            "I'll be here," said Draco, with the air of someone injecting sanity into the proceedings. "I promise that I'll protect your master, Kreacher."
            Kreacher turned to Draco and smiled up at him, while glistening tears began to leak from his eyes. "Master Draco Malfoy is being so good," he whispered, and then looked around Draco's shoulder at Harry and nodded emphatically. "Is being good for Master Harry Potter sir! Master Harry Potter sir is being listening!"

            Harry opened his mouth to ask why Kreacher wasn't upset at the thought of Draco being hurt, if they were both equally Kreacher's masters, but Kreacher handed him the letter and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen with the owl, alternately humming and talking to the owl about treats. Harry rolled his eyes.
            "His inclination to protect you is admirable," Draco said, pitching his voice low. "You shouldn't make fun of it."
            "I just--oh, never mind," said Harry, because he could understand where Draco and Kreacher were coming from, but it didn't actually make things less irritating. He tore open the envelope, to find out what Robards was about to demand of him now.
            Dear Harry Potter, said the letter, with a precision in the spiky letters that Harry thought was probably meant to draw attention to the fact that it didn't contain the title "Auror" by his name,
            We would be greatly obliged if you attended the interrogation of one of the captured Spiders at ten-o'clock this morning, in the Head Auror's office. This Spider is the one who tampered with the wrist-bell that you wore in your days of completing your Ministry duties, and you are needed to ensure that his description of the effects are accurate.
            Sincerely,
            Head Auror Robards.
            Harry snorted a little as he finished reading the letter. Robards hadn't written that, he knew. For one thing, he knew Rorbards's handwriting; this had to be one of the private secretaries that Robards kept to complete letter-writing tasks that he'd rather not bother with. For another, Robards wouldn't have been this polite.
            "Trouble?"
            Harry relaxed. The letter had begun to make his insides churn a little with anxiety, but just that casual question from Draco had reminded him of where he stood now: no longer an Auror, no longer subject to the Auror standards of discipline and threats to sack him if he didn't do a good enough job. "Not as such," he said, and laid the letter on the table, while casting a Tempus. He had half-an-hour to get there if he wanted to go. "Just a demand that I attend a Spider interrogation this morning."
            "Why?"
            Draco was being sharper than he needed to be even if he thought Harry was in danger, though, leaning over the table. Harry eyed him. "What do you mean? Because they think that he's the one who tampered with my wrist-bell, and they want to know if he's telling the truth when he talks about it."
            "They can't work with a written description of what happened?" Draco tapped the table with one finger. "The Unspeakables who studied it and invented the bloody bells can't describe what's going on?"
            Harry paused. "I don't know," he said. It was true that not even witnesses of a specific magical phenomenon that Aurors had encountered in pursuit of a case were invited to interrogations. That was saved for private interviews, where the victims could view Pensieve memories, or trials. Only Aurors would sit in on interrogations themselves.
            "I do," said Draco. "This is breaking Auror procedure, isn't it? I can see from the way you sit there that it is," he added, when Harry stared at him.
            "You can tell things from the way I sit?" Harry demanded. He didn't really know what else he was supposed to do with Draco's claim of this ability. It touched Harry, in one way, to know that he was being observed that closely, but on the other hand, he did think it a bit absurd.
            "Of course I can." Draco reached across the table and touched his hand, quickly, once. "And I know that you're disturbed and rattled, and that you don't really want to go to the Ministry."
            "That's true, but I wasn't disturbed and rattled until you said something," Harry muttered. He hesitated, then shook his head. He had thought it wouldn't do any harm to go to the Ministry, and if he could aid them in figuring out why the Spiders had tampered with his wrist-bell and how, it might help other Aurors in the future.
            But he didn't really want to go if this was yet another attempt to draw him back into the case. Maybe it was even an attempt to get him to be an Auror again. Robards might do that, as long as he could do it in a way that wouldn't connect back to him at all. By having one of his secretaries send the letter, he could claim he hadn't known about it.
            "Don't go," Draco said quietly. "At best, it's a waste of your time. At worst, this might be a trap, or a chance for them to act superior at you."
            "You sound as if both of those are equally bad," Harry teased, only to catch his breath when Draco lifted his head and caught his gaze.
            "They would both be equally bad for me," said Draco, and his voice cracked a little. "Please don't go."
            "I won't," Harry said softly. "I'll just send a refusal with the owl. They haven't left me much time to get to the Ministry, anyway. Maybe I could just pretend that I didn't get the owl in time..." He hesitated, thinking about that, then shook his head even as Draco was opening his mouth. "No. Begin as you mean to go on, I think. I'll just be honest from the beginning about wanting nothing more to do with them."
            Draco gave him a smile brilliant enough to make up for everything else, and the clasp of his hand on Harry's was reality, was home.
*
            "Do you think we can discuss a suitable job for you now?"
            Harry looked up. He'd just sent the letter away with the owl--which seemed happy to get out of Grimmauld Place, despite the treats Kreacher had fed it--and they'd moved to the drawing room. Draco was lounging in his chair with the paper, but he laid it entirely aside and focused on Harry now.
            "What do you mean?" Harry shook his head. "There are few places that are going to want to hire an Auror who resigned."
            Draco stared at him, and went on staring until Harry got uncomfortable. He stood up and moved over to the mantle, rearranging a few of the pictures and necklaces and awkward clay bowls that his kids had made for him. "What?" he added over his shoulder. "I don't think you know all that much about career prospects for Aurors."
            "I know that you have the skills to survive battle," Draco said. He didn't stand up and didn't raise his voice, which meant Harry had to stop moving little objects around to hear him, which was surprisingly effective. "To investigate. To advise others in investigations, and interview witnesses, and ask leading questions, and cooperate with other people."
            Harry thought about it as long as he could, and then shook his head. "Fine, but I don't see how that translates to success in anything but being an Auror."
            Draco gave him a thin smile. "It might translate to success in teaching."
            Harry paused and thought about that. Could he see himself as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? But even if he could, there was a problem with that. "I think they finally have a Defense professor who's permanent. And I don't know if my kids would want me at Hogwarts. It's one of the few places they have where who I am doesn't matter all the time."
            Draco gave him a patient look. "It matters enough to distress Al anyway. I don't think it has to upset Lily if you treat her right. Jamie won't be affected by it. Will you consider it?"
            "Teaching, yes," Harry said. "Not the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. And you haven't answered my first objection." He found that he was grinning at Draco, who had dropped enough of his haughty sternness to grin back.
            "Well, I thought that professor was close to retirement," Draco offered. "Or considering another career but not wanting to retire while Hogwarts still needed them. You could at least ask and see if they're planning to leave any time soon."
            "Or I could take up a different kind of career as a teacher," Harry countered. "Someone who's not a professor. But sill someone who matters and can impart some of the skills I learned as an Auror to other people."
            "Where, then?" Draco had gone still, the way he did when he was intensely curious. "Are you planning to set up private lessons? I have to admit that your name would probably draw them in, but I don't know if it would be enough to keep them, or how long your reputation would take to spread."
            "Primary school," said Harry, and happily watched the explosion.
            Draco did leap as though Harry had pinched his arse, but a second later, he had smoothed out his expression. He stood up and crossed the room to Harry, though, shaking his head. "Your talents are worth more than that."
            "Worth more?" Harry held out his hand and pressed it lightly in the middle of Draco's chest, holding him back from the tight embrace he obviously wanted to give Harry. "Draco. Think about this. There's no reason that teaching in primary school can't be as rewarding as teaching at Hogwarts. And I could help students who were just learning about magic and coming from the Muggleborn world into the wizarding one. There are lots of things that I wish someone had told me when I was a kid before I got to Hogwarts, Merlin knows."
            Draco blinked once at him. "But Muggleborn children don't generally go to magical primary schools."
            "They would go to mine," Harry said.
            Draco's face cleared a little. "Oh, you're thinking of opening up your own school? That's entirely different."
            Harry frowned at him. "Be honest, Draco. Does the thought of my teaching in a primary school bother you because it's not a prestigious career for me? And will you be happy if I open my own school only because it's a little more prestigious?"
            "I think that being an ordinary teacher would be a waste of those talents you're so proud of," Draco said. "You couldn't teach little children how to investigate a crime or fight offensive spells. I don't say that owning a school would be that much more prestigious. But it wouldn't be a waste of your skills. And a waste of your skills is a waste of your time."
            Harry pushed him lightly, once, with the hand still on his chest. "But you wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen dating someone who was a primary school teacher? That's the thing I really want to know, Draco."
            Draco's eyes widened a little. "Because you would be embarrassed if I was embarrassed," he murmured, as if taking in a revelation.
            Harry spread his arms. "Not quite. But something like that." He didn't know if he could explain his complicated feelings on the matter even to Draco. He just knew that he was not going to have a lover who was embarrassed by him doing something perfectly unremarkable. That might make it seem, eventually if not now, that Draco was only interested in being with him for the fame. And Harry didn't want to worry about that, ever again.
            Draco took his time to answer. Then he said, "I don't think it would be a good fit for you, either as an administrator or a teacher. And running a primary school isn't easy to walk away from. You would be taking risks with the Statute of Secrecy and Muggles. I don't think it's right for you, Harry."
            Harry nodded, reassured. It didn't mean he would entertain Draco's objections, not for sure, but at least he knew they weren't coming from the kind of haughtiness he absolutely couldn't accept in a lover. "Good. Then you should know that you've convinced me, at least partially. I wouldn't like being involved in administration much at all, but I would have to be if I set up the primary school."
            Draco smiled at him. "Then what?"
            "Private lessons," Harry said thoughtfully, turning back to the mantle and picking up a photograph of Jamie two years ago, on the day before he set off for Hogwarts. He was holding up a scarf that Molly had made for him in Gryffindor colors, even though they hadn't known for sure that he would be Sorted into Gryffindor at that point, and grinning.
            Harry spoke to the photograph, remembering some of the things that Jamie had sent home to him in letters over the years. They were just brief mentions, since Jamie wasn't much interested in anything but Potions, but they had driven home a number of points for Harry. "I think that they aren't teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts right at Hogwarts. I know why. The Board of Governors prevents them from doing some things, and there's a long tradition of only Light magic."
            "You're thinking of Dark Arts?" Draco had come up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder as if he was going to restrain Harry from bolting into a meat grinder. His voice was lightly incredulous.
            "Not exactly," Harry said. "I wouldn't teach them to perform those curses, but to recognize them. It's the same thing I had to do when I entered Auror training. Did you know, they say the program is three years mainly because they have to spend almost a year teaching us to unlearn what we learned at Hogwarts? There's a lot of useless and damaging bollocks that we imbibe at school."
            "I'd heard something like that, from Astoria's brother-in-law," Draco murmured. "But I thought it had to do with the succession of very poor Defense professors at Hogwarts." He squeezed Harry's shoulder. "A succession that you could change."
            Harry smiled back at him. "You have no evidence that the Defense professor they have now is poor. Or you would have marched down to the school the moment Scorpius said something about it, and demanded that things change." He bolted on before Draco could open his mouth to dispute that. "No, it's other things, too. Hogwarts doesn't even teach us where the dividing line between Dark and Light magic is. We had to learn the legal definition in Auror training, and when to cast curses, and when to answer offensive magic with defensive magic, and vice versa. If I could do something about that before students enter the Auror training program, then they wouldn't have to spend as much time training a lot of bloody nonsense out of their heads."
            "But I don't think you should help the Aurors in any way," Draco muttered, leaning hard on his shoulder. "Not after what they did to you."
            Harry snorted. "Spiting them would mean spiting the wider wizarding world, in the end. They're the best answer we have right now to certain kinds of Dark Arts crimes, Draco. I want to help people, and that means helping their recruits."
            A resentful silence from behind him made him wonder if a counterargument from Draco was gathering steam, but before he could worry too much about it, Draco muttered, "You're too nice."
            Harry laughed again and turned around to face him, catching his chin and kissing him. "Sure. But I have you to spare me from the consequences of my niceness, so it all works out."
            Draco kissed him back with some emphasis, and their conversation transformed into something much more interesting to the both of them.
*
            truthseeker: Al hasn't realized before that the divorce is so final. And Scorpius did try to take over the debt because Al begged him to, but Al hasn't really talked to him about being a kid of divorced parents.
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Marathon