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Keep It Simple, Stupid	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8388 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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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Chapter Five�An Odd
Caution

�� No matter
how hard he ran, Draco couldn�t seem to catch up with Potter. The man kept
ghosting ahead of him, now down one corridor, now down another, their captives
hovering behind him. Now and then he�d speak a friendly greeting to someone
else, but he never slowed down long enough to have a conversation. Draco swore
under his breath and increased his pace, not caring how undignified he looked.

�� Mr.
Malfoy!�

�� Oh, shit.

�� Scrimgeour
had just come around the corner of a corridor Draco had thought for certain was
deserted, and stood there, looking shocked. Behind him were two Aurors, several
secretaries, and a few wizards and witches with cameras. Daily Prophet reporters; Draco dimly remembered a memo about
several members of the press being shown around the Ministry so they could
observe the recent changes the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had made.

�� And now he
had been caught in front of those visitors, running like a child who was afraid
he wouldn�t get back to his common room before curfew. Draco felt a dull flush
mounting in his cheeks, and managed to incline his head in the kind of small
bow that Scrimgeour would expect before he clasped his hands behind him.

�� He was
ready for a scolding. He was not ready for Potter to suddenly appear at his
side, the captives now hung behind him in midair like trussed birds. And he was
far from prepared for the friendly arm that Potter slung over his shoulder,
while he faced his audience bright-eyed and smiling. It was enough for one to
forget the dust that covered his hair and clothing. Draco was sure that none of
the newspaper articles later would mention it, at least.

�� A murmur of
excitement traveled through the audience. Multiple cameras flashed and clicked.
Potter just bowed his head with assumed modesty, and Draco heard more than one
witch sigh about how handsome he was.

�� You can have him! he would have shouted, if that hadn�t been even more
undignified. As it was, he had to bite his lips in vexation and stand still,
waiting for the moment when Potter would speak up and humiliate him even
further.

�� Ladies and
gentlemen,� Potter announced, �you are, at this moment, looking at a real live
hero.�

�� Laughter
answered him. �Of course we are!� someone shouted.

�� Oh, not
me,� said Potter, with eyes so wide and innocent that it took people a moment to
realize what he�d said. When they did, demands for an explanation appeared.
Draco tried subtly to pry at Potter�s arm over his shoulder, but it was like an
iron bar.

�� Draco
Malfoy,� said Potter, with a tip of his head at Draco, therefore stealing the
last anonymity Draco could have expected. At least some of the pictures might
have said, �Auror Potter and friend.� Draco stared at the floor and waited for
the jeering.

�� He was a Death Eater,� a deep voice called,
predictably.

�� And he�s more
than repaid his debt!� Potter roared back, loud enough to make Draco jump. �Or
do you think that he�s so intent on joining his old comrades that he�d just pretend to prevent them from attacking
me long enough for me to survive?�

�� More
blinks. More stares. Potter jerked his head at Rodolphus and Dolohov. �These
are two of the more dangerous rogue Death Eaters who still survive,� he said. �They
appeared to attack me today, and I froze up. It�s been too long since I was in real danger. That�s what being called a
hero when you�ve only ever performed one heroic act will do to you��

�� It�s all right for him to say that, since he
knows they�ll just take it as modesty and reassure him, Draco thought, but
most of him was still too numb to respond.

�� And Auror Malfoy here�� Potter emphasized the
title while glaring slightly at the Minister, �cast a bloody clever spell that
held them at bay while I could recover my wits. I would have died if he hadn�t been with me. He�s a hero. Why don�t you interview him, while I go interrogate these two?�
He nodded briskly to everyone and then turned, gesturing with his wand so that
Dolohov and Rodolphus once more followed him down the corridor.

�� Avid eyes
turned on Draco. He lifted his chin and bore with it, since he had no choice.
He was well-aware that this was the most prestige he had received since he
entered the Ministry.

�� And he had
only got it because of Potter. That rankled.

�� Except�

�� Except that
only the two of them really knew
that. Potter had spun the story to make it seem as if the bravery and
initiative had all been Draco�s, and he certainly seemed to have no interest in
telling the truth. It really wasn�t all that different from some of the things
Draco had done during Hogwarts to gain prestige for himself or Slytherin House.

�� Of course,
Potter had the motive of trying to get into Draco�s pants. That had to be the reason he was doing this.

�� Well, he
would have another think coming if he believed that pathetic gratitude would
really throw a Malfoy into his arms.
Draco answered questions absently but with the precision that his father had
drilled into him while he went over Potter�s behavior in the last few weeks.

�� Yes, that
was the reason. Do nice things for Draco, try to make him look good, and in the
end he imagined Draco would swoon for him just like a little blonde witch.

�� It wouldn�t
work. It wouldn�t. Draco might be
attracted, but there was a large difference between thinking that and actually
falling for an obnoxious git like Potter.

*

�� Draco
noticed something different the moment he strode into the manor house where the
Death Eaters usually met. There wasn�t only an absence of people, but a blazing
trace of magical signatures, as though they had
been here.

�� Just before
he arrived.

�� Draco drew
his wand and looked around cautiously. Maybe it was an ambush. Maybe they
blamed him for Dolohov and Rodolphus being captured, and had set this up so
they could kill and torture him.

�� Ah,
Malfoy.�

�� Draco
turned swiftly. Prince was striding towards him, the thick robes that always
swayed about him muffling his movements as usual. Draco bit his lip in
vexation. He almost thought he could have told who the man was if not for those
robes. He knew other people who walked in that determined fashion. But without
being able to hear the sounds of footsteps or see the exact movements of legs,
identification was impossible.

�� I suspect
you�re wondering why no one else was here to greet you,� said Prince, and tilted
his head arrogantly. He�d come to a stop about three feet away from Draco and
was examining him with what Draco thought was a pleased expression. �The truth
is, I think you�ve become too prominent in the Ministry recently. You will be
watched. They will be jealous of your sudden rise in rank��

�� They, my
lord?� Draco interrupted.

�� Prince didn�t
take offense to the interruption; perhaps the title pleased him too much. �The
other Aurors who have struggled for years and didn�t achieve what you did in
the matter of a few minutes, because the insufferable Potter�� he sneered the name ��took notice of you. They�ll be
jealous. It�s best to keep you away from their prying eyes. I�ve assigned
Bellatrix and Yaxley to an attack on Potter that I�m absolutely sure will be
foolproof as well as effective. You can relax for now, and await the grand news
of Potter�s death!�

�� Draco�s
chest tightened. Potter was annoying, of course he was, but no one deserved to
be targeted by someone like Prince, and for such an irrational reason. Draco
had combed through the records in the days between Dolohov and Rodolphus�s
attack and now, and still he hadn�t found the name of anyone who matched Prince�s
description of his defeat. That meant Prince had probably exaggerated how much
he suffered, or how much of it was Potter�s fault, or both. Why not? It was
certainly what the Dark Lord had used to do.

�� Yes, my
lord,� he said, because he knew that pushing for details now would only get
Prince to strike out at him. With any luck, he might be able to owl Bellatrix
and pry. She was probably so proud of her part in the mission that she�d babble
on to him about it. And that would be good, because of the Death Eaters
remaining, she was the most dangerous. �There is nothing else that you need me
to do, then?�

�� Absolutely
nothing!� Prince beamed at him, and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. Draco
hoped he managed to conceal his wince at the strength in the other man�s
fingers. �I know you�re probably angry at missing the attack, but really, it was
for the best. You�ve preserved your cover beautifully so far.� Was it Draco�s
imagination, or was there a hint of suspicion in those deep tones? �This way,
you can do so in perfect safety. If you don�t know anything about the attack
ahead of time, no one can think that you should have prevented it.�

�� And I really won�t be able to. Draco
could feel something like panic clawing up the inside of his chest. Bellatrix
was dangerous because of her madness. Yaxley had a streak of something like
common sense. And though Prince�s other plans hadn�t been masterworks of
subtlety, there was always the chance that this one would be.

�� I understand,
my lord,� he said, and waited until Prince had nodded at him and left the room.
Then he strode grimly out himself, mind already on the owls he wanted to send�a
less relaxing way to spend a Sunday evening than laughing at a roomful of
idiots, that was for certain. One owl would go to his aunt, implying his envy
of her exalted position and begging her to let a few details slip.

�� The other
would go to Potter, carrying the only warning Draco could give him: that
Bellatrix and Yaxley would be after him soon, and that he must remain in the company of his bodyguards as much as possible.

�� Potter hadn�t
listened to him so far. But from what Draco could remember, given hazy snatches
of overheard conversations long gone, Potter had a special grudge of some kind
against Bellatrix. Perhaps he would be more inclined to pay attention with her
name in the letter.

*

�� Draco was
walking down the corridor to his office the next day, after yet another
unsatisfactory meeting with Scrimgeour�the man might have to treat Draco with
more courtesy now, but he didn�t have to like it�when someone snagged his robe
sleeve and drew him into an alcove. Draco immediately whipped out his wand and
turned, only to find himself caught and held immobile against a strong chest.

�� Just slow
down, Draco,� Potter�s amused voice whispered into his ear. �We�ll get to the
part where we stick each other later.�

�� Draco
hissed under his breath, but reluctantly put his wand away. �You received my
owl?� he asked, deciding that Potter must have paid attention after all and
come to ask about more details. He hoped so. Bellatrix had only owled him back
with a simpering tinge to her writing, saying she was sorry but really couldn�t
divulge any details of the mission to Draco.

�� Yes, and
it was dazzlingly uninformative,� Potter drawled, seeming content to maintain
his hold on Draco and even run his hand up and down his arm. At least there was
cloth between them. Draco knew he had gooseflesh from the places where small
hairs stood on end and strained towards Potter�s touch, and he didn�t want the
prat to see it. He would probably listen to Draco�s body over Draco�s mouth. �I
need more specifics. Where does Lestrange plan to appear? What about Yaxley?
What special talents do they have that they might have picked up after the war?
Will anyone else come with them�this Prince leader that you mentioned in your
letter, perhaps?�

�� I don�t know,� Draco said clearly. �That was the
whole point of getting you to stay with someone else, Potter, so that you would
be protected no matter where they appeared. Prince deliberately prevented me
from finding out.�

�� Oh.�
Potter was silent for a moment, thinking. Then he brightened up. �Well, why don�t
we make it more tempting for them? The way we inadvertently did last time? We�ll
Apparate to a special place I know
together. If they follow us, we�ll capture them easily enough. Especially you,
my big strong hero��

�� Will you stop talking like that?� Draco snapped. �Respect
was the thing I wanted most from anyone in the Ministry, and the way you got it
for me is cheap and tawdry.�

�� Really?�
Potter�s voice became deep and teasing. �The thing you wanted most of all? From anyone in the Ministry?
Hmmm?�

�� That came
far too close to Draco�s own confused feelings for Potter. On the other hand, flailing
about and snapping like a mad dog would reveal
them, and Draco was determined to keep them hidden as much as possible.

�� I�ll thank
you to let me go,� he said, turning his head slightly so that he could stare
into Potter�s eyes. They were standing awfully
close, so that Potter almost breathed down his neck. �You said once that this
wasn�t about making me love you. You can still avoid creating outright hatred
in me, however, if you draw back now.�

�� Potter�s
hands fell from his arms. Draco liked to think they had done it nervelessly, as
though Potter was suddenly frightened to touch him any longer, but he doubted
it. He busied himself with dusting off his robes, as though Potter�s touch had
brought about sudden pollution.

�� You never know. It could have.

�� As I was
saying,� Potter continued without missing a beat, �if we go there and no one
follows us, at least we can have the benefit of time alone.�

�� Hearing
you say those things is hardly better than feeling you touch me,� Draco said,
and turned around to face him. He used the same serious, intent tone that had
worked so well to make Potter back away physically. If it could be used for one
thing, why not the other? �You know
that, Potter. All I�ve ever asked for since this began was your attention and
your honesty. Tell me why you really want to bring me there. End this game you�re
playing.�

�� For long
moments, Potter held his gaze, while emotions Draco didn�t understand passed
across his face. There was a kind of wild yearning, as though he were looking
back on a decision he had made and regretted keenly. There was also anger, and
resentment, and helplessness. And for a moment, Draco thought he saw lust,
deep-rooted and long-lasting, but that was so much his own hope that he had to
dismiss it.

�� Sorry,�
Potter whispered, his voice low enough that he seemed to be afraid of outside
listeners. �That�s the one thing I can�t do, not at this stage in the game. It
would end everything too quickly, and it would make you react in ways that I can�t have you reacting, not if
everything�s to be in the proper place for the last move.�

�� And he
leaned forwards to kiss Draco lightly on the cheek, a tender gesture so at odds
with the flirting obnoxiousness that Draco just stared. A moment later, Potter
had shoved past him, out of the alcove, and was hurrying down the corridor so
fast that his robes whipped behind him.

�� Potter!�
Draco bellowed, not caring if it made some Aurors turn to look at him and
lowered his newly gained status in the Ministry. Curiosity burned in him for
the first time as a pure emotion. Before, he had wanted to know why Potter was
acting the way he did simply to put an end to the torment. Now he was sure the
answer would be interesting. �You can�t tell me that and then leave me here.�

�� Potter
glanced back at him, the hint of a devilish smile on his face. �I don�t see why
not!� he called. �We�ll meet again soon enough.�

�� He turned a
corner, and by the time Draco had reached it, he was gone.

�� Fuming and
frowning, Draco returned to his own office and worked on a report on the
capture of Rodolphus and Dolohov, because that was all he had to do. But his
emotions were in turmoil, and for the first time, he would have been glad to be
Potter, who could quit early and stroll out of the building at any time he
desired.

*

�� Potter was
ahead of him when Draco stepped into the alley outside the Ministry�s false
phone box.

�� Draco
slowed, his skin tingling. He had thought he might find Potter here. Why, he didn�t know�maybe just memories
of the way that Potter had accosted him that day a few weeks ago when Draco had
lingered on his way home. Now he waited for the other man to notice him, his
steps soundless.

�� Two sharp cracks of Apparition echoed around the
alley, and Bellatrix and Yaxley appeared, the one in front of and the other
behind Potter. Yaxley was between him and Draco. The Death Eater immediately
went about setting up Silencing and privacy charms, while Bellatrix screamed
something at the top of her voice and launched a curse at their mutual target.

�� Draco took
a few deep, gasping breaths. He had to make a choice. There was no way that
Potter could handle both of the most
competent Death Eaters alone. But this time, fighting Yaxley would almost
certainly get his true loyalties reported to Prince.

�� Yaxley
aimed his wand at Potter, who probably knew he was there but couldn�t afford to
turn away from the madwoman in front of him.

�� Draco made
his decision. And it was a decision based on what was right and what was
practical, not the few moments of sanity that Potter had shown him in that
alcove earlier.

�� He hurled
forwards, the sudden sound of his running making Yaxley jerk and glance over
his shoulder. Draco cast low, from his hip, a crackling line of red light that
should bind Yaxley�s hands to his feet and leave Draco free to help Potter with
his aunt.

�� Except, of
course, that nothing could ever go so simply, and so Yaxley threw up a Shield Charm
in time and then danced to the side, forcing Draco to adjust his aim so he
wouldn�t hit Potter. Yaxley was snarling now, his wand flicking through a
jagged pattern of movements that Draco didn�t recognize. He must have been
casting nonverbally, because his voice was occupied shouting something else.

�� I knew it, Malfoy! You couldn�t fool me with all your sniveling protestations
of loyalty! Brat, traitor, Potter-lover!�

�� Draco had a
moment to be amused that those were apparently the worst insults in Yaxley�s
vocabulary, and then Yaxley�s signature curse, hundreds of little flying
blades, was coming at him.

�� A curse
that Draco had never learned how to counter.

�� Draco had
no option but to Apparate, and he did, more quickly than he would have thought
he could. And he even Apparated into the space he had been aiming at, directly
behind Yaxley. He heard the sharp rattle and clatter of the knives hitting the
walls and stones where he�d been, in the instant before Yaxley turned around to
stare at him, mouth wide, eyes filled with denial.

�� Draco gave
him a nasty smile, filled, for a moment, with longing to destroy the bastard.
No one would ever know if Draco cast a spell that sent him to permanent �bed
rest� in St. Mungo�s. It could be passed off as a matter of self-defense, or
Draco not knowing his own magical strength. Potter and Bellatrix were too
engaged in their battle to notice, and Yaxley certainly wouldn�t be around to
contradict what he said.

�� But Draco
remembered, almost too late, that he was an Auror, and that he didn�t do those
kinds of things anymore. With only mild regret, he cast a spell that caused
Yaxley�s heart to labor oddly for a moment, drawing his immediate attention,
and then Disarmed and Stupefied him. He thought a moment, then added ropes,
too, just to keep the fool still.

�� Then he
stepped over Yaxley and moved cautiously forwards, uncertain, for the moment,
how he could best assist Potter.

�� He and
Bellatrix traded places so often, whirling around and around in a tight, chaotic
circle, that Draco had no idea how to fire a spell that would definitely hit
his aunt instead of Potter. Bellatrix�s cloak flew, and it seemed that she
somehow had breath enough to cackle and cast at the same time. Potter�s face,
when Draco could get a glimpse of it, was set and calm, though sweaty, his eyes
so narrowed and intent that Draco would have given up the moment Potter looked
at him that way.

�� Draco
watched for a short time longer, still not seeing how he could enter the
battle. And then he noticed something else,
and leaned in, staring.

�� Potter�

�� Potter was
being cautious. The sharp glitter of
several modified Shield Charms sparkled a few inches from his skin, bouncing
half of Bellatrix�s nastier spells before they could connect. Potter defended
as often as he attacked, which was probably the reason that Bellatrix wasn�t
stretched out on the ground yet. He knew that he could have wielded his magical
strength in such a grand manner that she was absolutely crushed, but he also
knew that that would have left him open to her strikes in the meantime. And with
Bellatrix, even a moment�s hesitation could be a moment too long.

�� Draco knew
that.

�� He would
not have expected Potter to know it.
This wary fighter didn�t bear comparison with the man who had sprawled on Draco�s
desk and bragged that he could take care of any threat at all.

�� Even as he
thought that, Potter stamped his foot hard on the ground. Draco�s breathing
sped up. He knew that signal, part of a system used in Auror training to tell a
partner to use a certain kind of spell. And this particular signal called for
an intense illusion.

�� Draco cast
an auditory illusion, the sharpest and most distracting sound he knew: his
mother screaming at a house-elf over a broken vase.

�� And just what did you think you were doing? I�ll
have you know that my husband spent hundreds
of Galleons on that vase��

�� Bellatrix�s
head whipped around. Draco could see her lips part in surprise. �Narcissa?� she
whispered.

�� Stupefy!� Potter roared. The jet of red
light caught Bellatrix in the chest and downed her at last. Potter Summoned her
wand next, and conjured chains. Then he knelt to make sure they were properly
fastened on her wrists and ankles.

�� Draco stood
behind Potter, breathing easily. He was waiting for the moment when Potter
turned and glanced up at him.

�� A few
things still didn�t make sense, but he knew, now, that much of Potter�s
behavior with him must have been an act.

�� Well?� he
challenged.

�� Potter
grinned sheepishly, like a schoolboy caught cheating at Gobstones, and reached
into his robe pocket. He must have enchanted it to hold far more than it
normally could, because the tangle of cloth he pulled out was thick. He held it up. Draco stared in
silence. He could make out the familiar outlines of Death Eater robes and a
white mask.

�� Potter
raised an eyebrow, and touched his wand to his throat. The voice that emerged
was Prince�s, smooth and deep. �Really, Mr. Malfoy, you should have expected
it. After all, did you ever see us both in the same place at the same time?�

*

�� YG: Still
obvious?

�� Thrnbrooke:
As you can see, that part was a lie.

�� McAbacus: Well,
one of your questions answered, but there�s still one more chapter to go until
the pay-off.

�� Mangacat:
Suspect away! There are still a few things that haven�t been revealed yet.
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