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Political Axes	By : Rettavex Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12136 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 1-Political Axes
- 2-Ch 1
- 3-ch2
- 4-Ch3
- 5-Ch 4
- 6-5
- 7-6
- 8-7
- 9-8
- 10-9
- 11-10
- 12-11
- 13-12
- 14-13
- 15-14
- 16-15
- 17-16
- 18-17
- 19-18
- 20-19
- 21-20
- 7
- 8
- 9
�What the hell did that elf do to Harry, Malfoy?� Ron, still reeling from the chaos Harry�s apparent break from reality had caused, still had a death grip on his wand as if expecting to need Shield Charms and Stunners any moment.
�He put him into a deep sleep.� Draco answered in a listless voice.
Taking a good look at Draco, Ron thought that the tall wizard looked lost. He had rarely seen Draco drop his composure. Draco had a look of utter confusion and fear on is face, and looked as if he could start crying at any moment. Not since Harry first drug Draco to a sit down with the Weasleys after the �Ginny business� had Ron witnessed Draco appear so unsure of himself. He usually cloaked himself in that famous Malfoy cockiness and bravado like a second skin. It was frankly unnerving Ron to have to think of something comforting to say.
�Malfoy, he�ll be ok, you know. Harry always bounces back.�
�I know, but he shouldn�t have to always bounce back. How many people can Harry lose before what we just saw becomes his permanent state?�
Ron had no answer. He had seen Harry watch friend and foe die countless times, but he could count the number of times Harry had expressed so much as a single tear. Sirius, Cedric, Dumbledore, Tonks, Snape, Hagrid� they had been the worst, and with each one of their deaths Harry got a little harder, a little more ruthless, and even more powerful. It was an odd by-product that appeared particular to Harry. Hermione had explained the phenomena in some strange Muggle psycho-babble, but Ron knew it was much more simple. It was guilt. Harry blamed himself for every death, and the only way the brunet could deal with the guilt was to strengthen both magic and mind in hopes of saving a loved one the next time. There was always a next time.
Getting back to the matter at hand, Ron asked, �You warned me off using magic on him but allowed the elf to knock him out with a spell. Why?�
�Bolley is the oldest of the Malfoy elves, and his magic is integrated into the Manor. His magic being both elven and bonded to the mansion allows him to guard it against damage. Additionally, house-elf magic is naturally protective and healing. I knew that any magic you or I cast could have rebounded if Harry threw up one of those insane barriers he is so fond of, or with his magic being so unstable he could have begun draining us both. If not compatible our combined magic could have had a devastating effect. It could have very well overloaded Harry and driven him crazy, or continued to shake the Manor to its foundation.�
As Draco lectured he seemed to remember himself. Ron could see the change happening, and after a few moments of silence it seemed Draco was back in control, if not completely composed. Ron knew the question was coming, and he wasn�t sure how to answer. How much could he tell Draco? How much would Harry want him to know?
�So just where the fuck were all of you today that ended in this mess? And don�t give me any drivel about regulations and confidentiality, or I swear Weasley you�ll find my wand implanted so deep in your arse you�ll be shitting spells for the rest of your life!�
Ron had never liked Malfoy, but he knew the blond rarely made idle threats, especially when it came to Harry. Ron respected that.
�There was a meeting at the Ministry where we discovered our team activation spell had been compromised. Syl was not at the meeting, so we figure he must have been in trouble because none of us would ever willingly ignore a summons. We immediately moved to a safe house to discuss it and delegate tasks for the search.
�We were only at the safe house for an hour or so, and then we all split up to take care of things. We thought Harry was going to meet with our Head, but maybe he decided against that in order to avoid exposure. I�m not sure. I called you later looking for him after we got the word about Syl.�
�And how were you notified? Tell me. Harry will want to know when wakes.�
Ron thought about it for a few seconds and realized that the worst was probably over, and Draco telling Harry further details would not likely lead to a repeat of meltdown.
�St. Mungo�s sent a dispatch to the MLE office when Syl�s body was discovered on their steps. The Class 3 group caught the case.�
Draco was processing it all, not even looking at Ron.
�Listen. You should know Harry won�t be pleased with another division being on this. He�ll want it for us. This is going to get messy.�
Draco gave a cynical eye roll. �When is it not?�
�Well, I should be off. I�ll brief the others. Tell Harry to Floo call me tomorrow before he sets off for St. Mungo�s. Don�t let him go before he contacts me, Malfoy. He should go in official, no matter what his feelings are for Syl.�
Just as Ron palmed the Floo powder Draco grabbed his clenched fist.
�Thanks, Weasley.�
The redhead granted Draco a small, tired smile. �Sure thing. Watch him, yeah?�
Draco gave an affirmative nod and watched as Ron spun away in the flames.
Upstairs in their suite, Draco found Harry tucked securely under the bedcovers. It seems Bolley had even been kind enough to place Harry in his favorite sleeping position, sprawled spread-eagle just left of center. Seeing Harry lying there, unguarded and resting, Draco could almost imagine that the previous hour was merely a nasty dream, some potion-induced nightmare.
Draco took a quick shower and brushed his teeth before crawling into bed. Knowing that Harry was out cold and not even the return of Dumbledore could rouse the sleeping wizard at the moment, Draco took the liberty of cuddling in close and laying his head on Harry�s bare chest. He took solace in the steady thump-thump of the heartbeat beneath his ear, as the heat radiating off of Harry soothed and warmed his nude body. His muscles instantly relaxed. Draco never wore anything to bed unless Harry was away overnight. Sleeping with Harry was like having one of those Muggle electric blankets Arthur Weasley found so fascinating. Safely ensconced next to Harry, Draco fell asleep with thoughts of an unbalanced Harry, a brutalized Syl, and political scheming swimming in his head.

H/D--------------------------H/D
Someone was trying to use his head for Bludger target practice, Harry was sure of it. Every time he attempted to crack an eyelid a blinding light would enter followed closely by sharp stabbing pains in deep in his skull. If he weren�t a wizard he might have thought he was having a bunch of mini-strokes.
After lying in agony that was terribly reminiscent of being held under Cruciatus for what Voldemort considered a short time, Harry managed to sit up on side of the bed. Despite having his eyesight corrected during his last year at Hogwarts the room before him was a complete blur. He attempted to stand only to be immediately made aware of both his hangover and lack of equilibrium due to the massive pounding in his skull.
�Where is Draco when I need him?� he asked the room in a strangled, quiet voice that sounded an awful lot like pouting.
When the room did not answer back he settled for calling Nippy in the softest voice he could muster.
�Oh, Master Harry!! You is awake! You is awake! Nippy has been so worried about young Master.�
�Nippy, not so loud,� Harry admonished the little elf, his voice scarcely more than a gravelly whisper.
�Sorry, Master Harry. Nippy will punish herself by sticking her��
�No! Shit. Gah! Ackh��
Harry flopped backwards onto the bed, felled by his own desire to keep the elf from maiming herself. He lay there panting and groaning for a few minutes, not so sure he hadn�t actually been Crucioed.
Nippy, you will not punish yourself. If you do I will give you a custom-made ball gown. Now, will you please just bring me a headache potion and maybe some coffee?�
The little elf�s eyes bulged in fear. �Right away, sir.�
He heard the muffled pop indicating the elf had departed to complete the task. Instead of trying to get up again he thought it a better idea to just lay there and work hard to not upchuck all over the heirloom, Damask silk bedding that Draco was intent on dressing the bed.
Minutes passed before the sound of the bedroom suite�s door being opened and closed announced Draco�s arrival.
�My, my. Look at you, Potter. No good morning kiss?�
�Save it, Draco. I can�t comprehend sarcasm or wit just now. Either kill me or get Nippy back in here.�
�Hmm, no to the kiss then I suppose. Well, perhaps this will help.� Draco dangled a small, rose-colored vial just above Harry�s face.
The dark-haired man whimpered and grasped the bottle. He yanked the cork out with his teeth and downed the liquid greedily. After a few beats Harry slithered out of bed and stretched gently, before grabbing Draco in a fierce hug.
�Thank you, Draco. I thought my brain had been hexed by Fiendfyre.�
�Feeling better then?� Draco spoke into Harry�s ear.
�Much.�
�Good,� said Draco before planting a small, chaste kiss on Harry�s mouth.
As Harry loosened his hold, Draco made as if to turn out of the embrace. Yet, as soon as Harry fully released him, Draco backhanded him across the left cheek. The force of the blow snapped Harry�s head back so hard he felt his neck muscles strain. Pain flared upward from his jaw and congregated behind his eye socket, where Harry held the heel of his palm in hopes of keeping his eyeball from popping out.
�Ow!! Fuck! Draco, what the hell was that for?� Harry demanded as he righted himself, his whole body tensing instinctively.
�What for?! You�ve got to be joking, Potter.�
Draco was incensed, and surprisingly shocked by his own violent outburst. He had not thought of hitting Harry prior to it happening, yet he didn�t feel the least bit remorseful as he looked at the vicious red blotch spreading out over Harry�s left cheek like a blush run amok.
�What�s with the Potter shit, Draco? You only call me that when we fight, and I have no recollection of fighting with you last night.�
Harry was frantic inside. He remembered last night up until hearing that Syl had been found and the extent of the Auror�s injuries. He knew he was missing time, and while there were endless possibilities as to what had transpired during the missing gap, the temper Draco was displaying left little doubt that something bad had occurred.
Draco felt his anger dim inexplicably, leaving behind mostly just the fear he had felt upon seeing Harry become so unhinged.
�You got drunk, Harry. Drunk! And then you come home and accost me, going off half-cocked with jealousy and suspicion�of Weasley I might add� all before having some type of mental break after hearing about Syl where you nearly turn my ancestral home into a pile of fucking rubble!�
Hearing his actions condensed made them all the more pathetic. He hadn�t meant to drink so much.
�I was..oh, Dray. I�m sorry. I was just so angry, and scared. Syl was missing�and, and I didn�t know what to do. No one knew what to do. All that training, all that magic, and I didn�t know what to do.�
Harry sat back down on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he dry-sobbed. Draco hated the way the wizarding world had conditioned Harry into believing that he should and could solve every problem, rescue every person in harm�s way, rid them of every Dark wizard hiding in their midst. Harry had gotten much better over the years in understanding his limits and realizing that allowing himself to be used for the greater good was not always the same as doing good. Yet, things like this easily set him back.
�So you decided, knowing what you know about yourself, to get sloshed? Brilliant.�
Harry stared up at Draco with glassy eyes brimming with unshed tears, stung by his lover�s lack of empathy.
�You can�t understand,� Harry retorted weakly.
Draco felt his resolve weaken ever so slightly and knew he had to get through to Harry before he gave in to his urge to cradle, stroke, and pet the miserable man. Harry had to understand just how much he risked by giving up his control and drinking past prudence.
�Of course not, but I�d like to. However, I can�t do that if you kill me in a drunken, jealous, paranoid rage, can I?�
Dispirited, Harry hung his head and nodded. �I�m sorry. I know I was wrong. I didn�t mean it. I just� there�s just no place for the anger to go sometimes. Please, forgive me. I�I need you, Draco. Don�t� just be here, please. Stay. I�m sorry.�
Unable to resist his need to comfort any longer, Draco stepped into the space between Harry�s legs. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco�s waist and buried his face in his lover�s stomach.
Harry had Draco in a death clutch, the way scared children hold tightly to a parent�s neck after a bad dream. Despite barely being able to take a full breath, Draco basked in the desperate embrace, slowly carding his fingers through the thick, wavy hair at Harry�s nape. I�m the one he needs. I�ll always be here for him. I�ll be everything you need, Harry.

After a few sniffles, Harry pulled back and looked up at Draco. Seeing true forgiveness there, he pulled Draco onto his lap and claimed his lover�s mouth in a deep, moist kiss that screamed to Draco just how scared Harry was that he could have potentially caused Draco serious harm. As the kiss tapered off into nips and small laps at one another�s lips, Draco asked, �Do you remember what happened?�

Harry grabbed hold of both Draco�s wrists, shoving up the sleeves of the gray sweater Draco wore in an effort to get a good look at the large, wraparound, greenish and purplish bruises he knew he had caused. He lowered his head and nuzzled his face against each wrist, wishing fervently that he had not marred such beautiful, flawless skin in so callous a manner. He much preferred Draco marked in passion-ruled submission, his lustrous, milky skin colored only as a byproduct of heavy-handed lovemaking, or playful roughhousing.
�Everything except what happened after Ron finished the summary of Syl�s injuries.�
�Would you like to hear about it?�
Harry shook his head. He wasn�t prepared for what was sure to be a very disturbing playback. If the incident with Creevey was the hallmark of what he was capable of when inebriated, then the fact that Draco was only sporting restraint bruises was a miracle.

�So, what now?� Draco asked, taking a moment to place a feather light caress over the slight swelling developing along Harry�s jaw.

Harry let out a shaky breath. �Now I�I go and see Syl. I find out what happened to him, who did it, and��

Harry brought his eyes level with Draco�s, willing him to understand what had to be done. This was personal. Draco had never liked killing. Contrary to the bloodlust his father and aunt had shown under the Dark Lord, Draco was violence averse. He had killed when necessary during the war, as they had all, but he would much prefer not having his or Harry�s magic tainted or their souls damaged any more than they already were.

He knew that if he were adamant, he could sway Harry. Yet he could not think of any good reason to place himself between Harry and whoever harmed Syl. Draco nodded in understanding and extricated himself from Harry�s lap.

�You are to Floo call Weasley before heading to the hospital. He made that clear. Also, you�ve had a couple of owls from the Ministry, no doubt about the attack on Syl. Kingsley popped into the Floo this morning, but I told him you were resting. He said to stop by sometime before the close of business today.�

�When did you become such the good secretary?� Harry asked teasingly, as he sipped the coffee that Nippy must have quietly deposited while he and Draco had their moment.

�Never you mind, Potter. I am still off you for now, but I imagine by my afternoon tea I will have calmed just enough to allow you to shower me with gifts, praise, love, and affection for my trouble.�

�What, no make-up sex?�

�Humpf. You are lucky I did not tie your dick into a hang knot while you were sleep. Now, go shower. You reek.�

As Harry shuffled over to the bathroom Draco intercepted him from behind, pressing his front flush against Harry�s back, ghosting a feather-soft kiss between his shoulder blades, before whispering, �I�m sorry about Syl, baby.�

Soft sable hairs tickled Draco�s nose as Harry gave a small nod in appreciation of his statement of sympathy. Then as he released his hold, Harry turned to face him, pulling Draco into a fierce hug before whispering in return, �Join me?�

Draco looked into those too-green eyes, which moments ago looked so desolate and forlorn, and saw the promise and need being displayed. Harry was asking for more than a shared shower. He was asking for absolution, begging Draco to allow him a moment to reaffirm their love, to let him attempt to begin to salve the small wound in their relationship he had created.
�Of course, baby.�

With Harry in the lead and a smirking Draco trailing close, the two made their way into the bathroom, Draco littering the floor with discarded bits of clothing along the way.

A/N Working on the all important sex scene to follow this one. Wish me luck. Review if you have the notion.
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Political Axes