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Changing of the Guard	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 58627 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 49
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Thank you again for all your reviews!

This is the last chapter of Changing of the Guard. This story may someday have associated
stories set in the same universe, but is unlikely to have a novel-length
sequel. I haven�t said all I have to say regarding these characters; I think I
could take another fic of the same length and still not have said everything
regarding them. But the immediate issues are resolved, and all stories have an
end.

Or at least, the end is beyond what we can see�and probably
a different story.

Epilogue�Glimpses of a
Changing Life

�� But you�ve
slept with women in the past, haven�t you?�

�� Draco
ducked his head if embarrassed, smiling, but privately he had decided that he
would remember the face of that reporter. It was unfair that she should have been allowed to remain
in Britain and openly write for the papers when Malcolm Therris had been forced
into hiding for his exemplary work on the John Grey article. Of course, Therris
was still writing under a pseudonym and collecting information as he could from
his refuge�which Draco more than suspected was one of Harry�s estates�but it
was the principle of the thing.

�� I have,�
said Draco. �I hardly would now. There�s a certain philosophy I live my life
by, which you may have heard of.�

�� Which
philosophy?� The woman eagerly poised her quill over her parchment and stared
at him with her lips slightly parted. Draco had learned to identify that look
in the past few months. Some people seemed to think they could taste the reflected glory that came off
someone who had slept with Harry Potter. Draco now understood why Harry had
gone to such great lengths to disguise himself for ten years.

�� Fidelity,�
Draco said, and showed her all his teeth. The woman flushed and looked down,
but other reporters elbowed her out of the way and leaned forwards. Draco
frequently gave public press conferences like this, since the fiction he and
Harry maintained was that he was less �busy� in Harry. In truth, Harry still
found confrontations with the public stressful, unless he had planned and utterly
controlled the situation as he had in the public party or the trap to catch
Grey, and he would begin to slip into another persona after less than
half-an-hour. Draco was unwilling to encourage that except in the context of
business.

�� He quite
enjoyed the press conferences, rather than minding them. He got to influence
the way thousands of people in the wizarding world saw gay and lesbian wizards
and witches every day. It suited the fantasies he had once had of controlling
the world, either openly or from behind a more powerful companion.

�� He knew
some people had dismissed him because he was �Harry Potter�s fucktoy.� Draco
also remembered their names, and he had already sent revenges into motion that
might take years but would produce satisfying results in the end.

�� He was
speaking on an impromptu stage built in the same field where the original party
had been held, which had become an unofficial gathering place for the
rebellion, including Nusante�s people. Reporters could always find someone to
talk to here with a decided opinion on what the homosexual wizards of Britain
should do next. Several spirited debates about the changing laws had already
happened here. And there had been other parties, smaller ones, but with Harry
in attendance. No attackers had come after the second time, when Harry�s wards
had engorged the cock of one attacking wizard and had it lead him irresistibly
to every man in attendance, including his own companions.

�� None of
what they�d achieved was a perfect solution; someone had taken over
Counterstrike, though someone with less force of personality and money than
Grey, and continued to agitate for harder laws against homosexuality. But Draco
was confident they would win in the end. Already more young pure-bloods had
attended the gatherings in this field than had been at the party in Clothilde
Castle where he and Harry had alarmed the other guests. He might have a hundred
and twenty years left to live yet. He was quietly determined that he would see
the changing of the guard, the growth of idiocy into acceptance and even
astonishment that gay wizards and witches should have been regarded as
different from anyone else.

�� He stepped
off the stage, briefly catching Nusante�s eye. The man looked away hastily. He
had attended every press conference, and the parties, though he usually left
the moment he caught sight of Harry. His face was always twisted when he looked
at either of them. Draco smiled now. He�d heard that Nusante hadn�t written a
play in months, and barely left his house. He was still working through the
guilt spell, then, and his own pride fighting what he would see as �irrational�
emotions would make it worse.

�� Draco�s
foot had just settled on the ground when the world dissolved into chaos and
light.

�� Draco could
hear screams, distantly, but they seemed unimportant. He was involved in the
quite astonishing pain of his own body. He flew through a region that lashed
blazes of white radiance into him which hurt worse than the Cruciatus. When he
breathed, he breathed agony instead of air. He was sure his father would have
found it all intensely interesting, and might have been willing to go through
the experience himself to understand it from the inside out.

�� He landed
heavily, thrown against the stage, and then he came back to reality. His ribs
hurt, and one ankle was twisted heavily enough that Draco thought it was at
least sprained, and probably broken. He blinked furiously, but he couldn�t see;
afterimages crowded like trees in a forest at night across his eyes. Draco
hissed and propped himself up by digging his elbows into the soil. Being blind
when an enemy might be sneaking up on him bothered him worse than the rest.

�� An arm went
around his shoulders, and Draco stiffened. But Blaise�s voice spoke into his
ear, soft and familiar. �Easy, Draco. You were the only one hurt, and even
then, I cast a Mitigating Charm, so some of the damage was deflected away from
you and hit the stone of the stage instead.�

�� Blaise? I
didn�t know you would be here.� Draco turned his head from side to side, out of
sorts. The afterimages still clouded
his eyes. �What happened?�

�� Some sort
of device implanted in the ground next to the stage,� Blaise said grimly, and
Draco heard him mutter several soft incantations. �I have no idea if they knew
where you were going to step,� Blaise continued after a moment, �or if it was
magical energy gathered under the soil and they simply concentrated it when
they�d already seen where you intended to walk.�

�� Draco
paused, breathing softly. He noted that it hurt to breathe, but only on the
outside of his body; that was an excellent sign he didn�t have a broken rib. He
felt as though someone had beaten him with sticks, but he would recover. His
leg was more of a concern, and he motioned Blaise to check it whilst his mind
raced towards the inevitable conclusion.

�� I invented
a device that did something like that,� he said at last. �Or that could do
something like that, if you used it in the wrong manner.�

�� Your leg
isn�t broken,� Blaise said. �You can get around by hopping on me�� He paused. �What did you say?�

�� There�s a
Muggle device called a mine,� Draco said, and leaned his head back on Blaise�s
shoulder, blinking steadily straight ahead. His vision was clearing again, and
now he could see the ravenous faces of the reporters as they hovered near. What a story they�ll have to take home
tonight, he thought, and part of his mind began making calculations about
how much he and Harry and the rebellion could profit from this. �They use it
for trapping the ground that enemy soldiers might cross, tearing feet off, that
kind of thing. I invented a device that would use a similar force and could be
buried underground, but it would only Apparate an intruder uncontrollably away,
not hurt him like this.� He took a deep breath. �Blaise, these bastards are
using one of my own machines against me.�

�� Or one of
your principles,� Blaise said. �They�d be stupid to use one of Malfoy�s
Machineries against you when you�ve got those spells that could make life
difficult for them if they did. Maybe they studied Muggle technology, too, and
decided to apply the idea.�

�� The
afterimages were almost gone. Draco gave a smile that made several of the
reporters step back and said out of the corner of his mouth, �Cast a Lightening
Charm and a Levitation Charm so they can think I got up under my own power.
Nonverbally, of course.�

�� Blaise
opened his mouth as if he would protest, and then he obeyed with no more than a
faint sigh. Draco heard the disbelieving gasps as he planted a hand on the
stage and heaved himself to his feet. He surveyed the crowd with scorn, as if
he were seeking out and memorizing the faces of all those who had thought he
was too wounded to move. Several more stepped away from him.

�� Well,�
Draco said lightly. �It seems that a certain person intends to test the resolve
Harry and I have made not to use violence.� Always
imply that you know who your enemies are, even if you have no idea. That
was a trick Lucius had taught him and which Draco had only refined in the past
month whilst he interacted with Harry�s friends. A haughty glare when he was
sure insults had been used, even when he hadn�t heard them, made the Weasleys
squirm in their seats like naughty children, and had brought the confessions of
several pranks in the making.

�� Who?�
asked a voice that didn�t belong to a reporter. Draco looked up and met
Nusante�s eyes.

�� Why,�
Draco said, �I think the identity of our foe should be sufficiently clear to
anyone who�s been following our activities closely for the past few months.� He
planted his foot carefully on the ground. He would look as if he were walking
normally, since his body was now so light the ankle had hardly any weight to
bear, but the bruise had turned an impressive purple-black. Cameras flashed.
Draco showed his teeth again.

�� Harry and
I are fighters,� he said, speaking directly to Nusante. �That�s different from
being warriors, who can�t operate outside a context of war. Fighters understand
all sorts of struggles. This attack is an attempt to force riots, or maybe to
persuade Harry to come forwards and unleash that powerful magic so many people
are afraid will make him a Dark Lord someday. Neither will work.� He folded his
arms and lifted his chin. Blaise, understanding perfectly, conjured a faint breeze
to sweep around his head and lift his hair dramatically. They�d used similar
tactics in the Slytherin common room to foil the older years. �A large part of
winning means choosing the grounds on which you will fight. And Harry and I
will win.�

�� He strode
off, or so it would look to anyone watching from a distance. He did pause on
the Apparition point before he vanished, to meet two pairs of eyes. One was
those of Alice Moonstone, who had scandalized her father by attending some of
the parties and all of the press conferences. No trace of the enslavement spell
Lucius had tried to cast remained, and Draco could look at her without fear. So
could Blaise, who Draco had sometimes seen hovering over her, and who he
suspected might be the draw for Alice more than the rebellion was. At least,
she had never missed a gathering that Blaise also attended. But now she stared
straight at him and gave a grim little nod, quietly praising him for doing the
right thing.

�� The second
pair of eyes was Nusante�s, and in them Draco saw the start of the hero-worship
Harry would detest but which Draco had long thought was needed to heal the
remaining rifts in the rebellion between their followers and Nusante�s artistic
friends. And since Nusante was going to worship him, and not Harry, Harry should have no objection to it.

�� Of course,
Harry would have some legitimate reasons to protest if Draco didn�t return home
immediately and tell him what happened.

�� Draco spun
on the spot and Disapparated.

*

�� Harry
stepped out of the fireplace smiling. That was the first conversation he�d had
with Ron and Hermione since their reconciliation that hadn�t been filled with
awkward pauses because of all the things they wanted to know and he didn�t want
to tell them. Hermione had got off on a tangent about the history of
homosexuality in the wizarding world, and Ron had interrupted with harsh
squawks, and Harry had corrected Hermione�s history text. Hermione had been
astonished that someone could correct a book�well, she had been astonished that
Harry could do it, anyway�but she had
responded graciously. Of course, she was greedy for more knowledge.

�� Harry shook
the soot off his cloak and gave it to Kreacher, who appeared to take it with a
worried look on his face. Harry paused. �What�s the matter?� he asked. It was
probably a tale of burned food or a Dark artifact that had chased Kreacher out
of the attic when he tried to dust it, but such calamities didn�t usually
happen to the house-elf.

�� Master
Draco is feeling poorly,� Kreacher said.

�� Harry
immediately straightened. �Poorly?� he demanded.

�� He was
attacked.� Kreacher blinked watering eyes at him, as if he found it difficult
to see through his distress about the attack on Draco. �Badly bruised ribs and
a leg he should be resting.� He stamped a little and glared up the stairs.

�� Why didn�t
he go to St. Mungo�s?� Harry was already taking the stairs. Draco wasn�t a
fool. He would have known the Healers were the best people to treat a broken
leg or sprained ankle, and he had none of Harry�s investment in an air of
mystery and privacy.

�� He says he
is �pretending it�s not as bad as it is to keep the people who want to see
weakness away,�� Kreacher said, imitating Draco�s voice with uncanny accuracy.

�� Harry
opened the bedroom door with a hasty call of thanks to the elf and a request to
bring dinner to bed, and vanished into the room.

*

�� Harry had
already screamed at him and insulted his intelligence and thanked Merlin for
Blaise and sworn vengeance on the person who hurt Draco. Now he had reached the
part of his worrying routine that Draco liked best, when he tried to make him
feel good in compensation for what he�d gone through.

�� Draco�s
upper body rested against pillows so soft and smooth that he could barely feel
them; it was as if gravity had simply chosen to spare him a fall for reasons of
its own. His legs rested on another pair of pillows, his sprained ankle tenderly
wrapped round with cloth even though Harry had already used several
frighteningly effective healing spells he�d looked up in the Black library on
it. He was naked, and Harry had his head bent, nestled between Draco�s hip and
groin, carefully licking his cock.

�� Draco tried
to remember the last time he had felt so comfortable, but was interrupted when
he shuddered and went cross-eyed, bucking. Harry sucked the head of his cock
into his mouth, then looked up at him and used some wandless magic that went
past Draco like a wind in water. Draco could suddenly hear Harry�s voice
speaking directly into his thoughts, lulling but with an undertone that spoke
of lust as red as embers. Not so fast. I
have more to offer you than a quick orgasm.

�� A quick
orgasm is just fine with me,� Draco gasped out.

�� Harry
laughed darkly and returned to his task, licking and swiping the sides of
Draco�s erection with his tongue, never taking it fully into his mouth. And he
had allowed the magical connection to open up between them for the first time
in months; Draco knew Harry had been cautious of it and had wanted to make love
without being driven into extremes of passion. But sometime between that last
overwhelming fuck when they could read each other�s emotions and bodies and
now, Harry had learned to control the
damn thing. Now Draco could feel it where Harry�s tongue touched skin�brush
after brush of fire, of heated satin, of quicksilver wetness�and then he would
lose it when Harry�s tongue traveled away again.

�� He growled
and, once, screamed when Harry sucked hard on the vein on the underside of his
cock and at the same moment sent his mind sliding effortlessly through Draco�s,
like a shark cleaving water. For a moment, just a moment, he was as fully bound as he wanted to be, remembering a
conversation with Gryffindor yearmates he�d never had, thinking of Weasley and
Granger as Ron and Hermione, experiencing the sensation of Harry�s cock lying
warm and unattended against his belly. And then Harry leaned back on his knees
and smiled at him, eyes deep and lips swollen.

�� Please,�
Draco breathed, and didn�t care that he was sobbing like a child. �Please.�

�� And then
Harry dived and sucked, putting the
full force of his concentration behind it, and the magic rolled over Draco. And
Draco realized the bastard had added wandless magic to it. Intense sweetness
seized him, threw him from the hands of a giant to the back of a dragon, and
the buildup to orgasm lasted so long he thought he would shatter�

�� And when he
came, he soaked himself and howled like a werewolf, and returned to himself
with a sore throat and more bloody afterimages in front of his eyes. He lay, panting,
against the pillows. The pain from his ankle had dissipated.

�� How did
you do that?� he murmured, opening his eyes and staring down at Harry in awe he
didn�t want to admit to.

�� Harry
gravely extended his tongue.

�� Draco
swatted him lightly on the back of his head. �Prat. How did you�heal me?� He
moved his ankle tentatively, but yes, the ache was entirely gone, and when he
undid the bandages, so was the bruise. When he reached up to feel his ribs, he
could palpitate the skin as hard as he liked, and still he felt no more than
the ordinary pain he would from doing so.

�� Willed my
magic to do it at the same moment as it was giving you pleasure,� Harry said
calmly. �It took extra impulsion from my emotions and from your magic, which
reached out to me when you came. I wanted to make you feel good. My power
decided that to make you feel really good, it had to take away your wounds as
well as give you sexual satisfaction.� He kissed Draco�s hip.

�� We�ll have
to find out who attacked me, of course.� Draco caressed Harry�s hair.

�� Mmmm.�
Harry exhaled gently across Draco�s cock, which couldn�t revive yet but
appreciated the attention, and then laid his head against Draco�s calf and
closed his eyes. He breathed so deeply and so slowly that Draco could almost
believe he�d fallen asleep, and shook his head when Draco reached down to
return the favor.

�� Not right now,�
he whispered. �I want to relax before I have dinner.�

�� Draco
stayed awake long enough to eat�he remembered that�but then Harry was on him
again, with his hands this time, and he fell asleep dazed and happy and utterly
certain he and Harry would defeat this mysterious enemy as they had defeated
every other.

�� He told
himself later, when he opened his eyes and Harry had some evidence as to who
was behind the attack, that of course he
should have known Harry was plotting even as he rested in bed beside Draco. He
hadn�t fully opened his eyes in all that time. He was keeping them half-shut,
or shut completely, not to disguise his lust�Draco could feel that through the
magic that connected them�but to disguise his racing brain.

*

�� Harry
studied the calendar hanging on the wall, then nodded gravely. He had another
two days before he had to go and play Osiris for Lucille, the witch who was the
last case he�d had before Draco.

�� Before Draco� and �After Draco.� The two
periods that divide my life.

�� The time
between now and then should be enough to begin establishing contacts inside
Counterstrike and the other anti-gay organizations it worked with and trying to
find out who could have been so stupid as to attack Draco.

�� Stupid,
Harry thought, as he opened his cupboard and pulled out his most traditional
and sleekly-cut gray robes, because whoever had done it should have known that
they would bring Harry Potter down on their heads like the wrath of Dumbledore
and Merlin combined. And where Harry Potter went, a hundred other people
followed.

�� Their enemy
had no way of knowing that, of course. But he should have.

�� Harry faced
the mirror and began casting glamours that shifted his appearance from moment
to moment. When he decided on the one he liked, he would use Transfigurations
to make it permanent. No doubt he would have to pass through many houses,
estates, and secret meetings with anti-glamour wards hung all over the walls
and doors. They would not want to take the chance that Harry Potter, who was so
good at disguising himself as Brian Montgomery, could be among them.

�� Harry gave
a vicious smile into the mirror that he liked the look of and decided to keep. Then
he paused as his eyes darkened to a slaty color just this side of John Grey�s.
Yes, he liked that, too. So he had the eyes and he had the smile, and a moment
later he had the hair, which darkened and became greasy and fell down his
shoulders, and the skin, sallow and puckered with the stains of a man who
worked often on potions.

�� Here�s to you, Severus Snape, Harry
thought, and cast the auditory glamour that would deepen his voice, though not
make him sound exactly like Snape. There could be a few people who remembered
Snape, where he was going.

�� Hello,� he
murmured. �My name is Charles Awfen. I�ve heard about your group, and I believe
I might be interested in joining.�

�� Already new
memories were growing in his mind, the memories of a boy who had grown up
lonely and neglected by his mother after a gay wizard had killed his father. He
had made extensive psychological studies and become convinced that
homosexuality was connected to murderous impulses, but had never tried to publish
any of his research, feeling it would be better if the perverts didn�t know
they had such an implacable enemy. He had been an admirer of John Grey and was
saddened to hear he was not in Britain at the moment. For some information he
wanted to use to complete his studies, he would let these men have access to
some of his insights and his potions lab.

�� From there,
it was only a matter of fixing some of the features by means of Transfiguration
rather than glamour, and grooming some of the memories into shape.

*

�� On his way
to the door out of Grimmauld Place, Harry passed the room where he had locked
the reverse Pensieve. He paused for long moments, listening to more than
feeling the tingle of Dark magic; Awfen was a man who conceptualized Dark magic
in auditory terms.

�� Then he
dismissed the locking wards with a swift motion of his wand he wouldn�t be
showing any of the people he met today and stepped inside.

�� Voldemort.
Nagini,� he whispered, and the door of the cabinet popped open. He took the
Pensieve into his hands and held it, staring into the awful emptiness in it. He
could vanish into that void and never come out again.

�� Then he
stepped back and sneered, placing the Pensieve carefully on the table in the
center of the room. Charles Awfen was too proud
to vanish.

�� A blast of
pure white fire�Awfen specialized in fire spells when he decided to take up
combat magic; he found the purifying nature and implications of flames
soothing�and the Pensieve began to burn. He watched as the Pensieve melted and
became slag, now and then fanning the magic with encouraging strength. He
nodded when the Dark artifact was gone, and smiled when he thought he heard a
very faint scream from the heart of the fire.

�� That�s
what evil things deserve,� he murmured.

�� He walked
on his way and paused in the door of the house, smelling the evening air and
fixing a destination in his mind. He would take two steps and Apparate.

�� In one
moment now.

�� But he took
that single moment on the doorstep to feel a dazzling pride that he was what he
was, who he was, a wizard who
commanded people and skills, memories and appearances, that his enemies could
not even imagine, and who had the love of the one man who was able to accept
all that and still hold Harry to a path of honesty, trust, and affection he
would have lost to the whirling cloud of his personas otherwise.

�� Then the
moment was past and he was off the doorstep, striding forwards two steps in the
company of everyone he was. He Apparated with a strong sense of confidence.

�� How could
such a wizard not have good hunting?

�� The End.

*

�� SoftObsidian74:
Thanks! I was worried that some people would think Harry�s treatment of his
friends too harsh, but I think it was needed to reestablish peace between them.

�� Ron had a
lot to think about in the last few days, and finally realized (though without
admitting it to himself until Harry forced him to) that he would rather give up
his prejudices than lose his friendship with Harry.

�� qwerty: Thanks
very much! This chapter is certainly the last one in a sense; I may visit this
universe again, but the main movement of Changing
of the Guard is certainly completed.

�� Tac: Thank
you so much! I don�t usually find dramatic confrontations interesting unless
the characters are IC or OOC for believable reasons, so I do work hard to make
it sound like Draco and Harry and Ron and Hermione.

�� FallenAngel1129:
I think Harry does need Ron and Hermione and their friendship. At least he won�t
accept the same bullshit from them again.

�� Werewolf
Mistress: Here it is!

�� Christabell:
Thank you! In many ways, I think Harry is stronger than he was at the beginning
of the story.

�� butterpie: Hermione
and Ron know Harry�s offer is a second chance, and they�re going to treat it
accordingly.

�� And Harry
was very lucky to find someone in Draco who could accept all his choices. I
think many people sympathetic to him would still find it hard to do.

�� Mangacat:
Thank you! Hopefully Hermione can respect the terms of her punishment. I think
she will.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Here it is! Thanks for reviewing.
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Changing of the Guard