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A Very Late Birthday Present	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4025 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Author's note: This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I figured seeing as Harry's birthday is today, I might as well write it. I've decided to cut it up in two parts, as I was running out of time and wanted to post it on time still *coughs*
Warnings will be updated for each part.
Warnings: Harry's pov; established slash; ignores epilogue; minor violence; a smidgen of drama
I hope you'll like it!
Part 1
The explosion rocked the building violently, causing everyone inside to grapple for something to hold. Bits of the ceiling crashed down, dust mingling with the smoke which was slowly starting to fill the space. The crackling sound of flames licking at everything it reached sounded dangerously loud and when he looked up briefly, the fire was nearing the edge of the hole in the ceiling, having swallowed up a large part of the first floor already.
Fuck, they didn't have that much time left.
A shadow sped past in the hallway right next to them and he was already running after it before anyone else could react.
"Ron!" he yelled, swishing his wand harshly at a large piece of a wooden beam which had blocked the door for the most part. It shattered apart in just a couple of seconds, no longer holding him back from pursuing one of the Dark Wizards.
"Yeah, I got it!" his friend shouted back, already back to battling a Mage.
Reassured that the rest could handle the group inside the house, Harry put forth an extra burst of speed so that he could catch up to the ringleader.
They had been tracking down this particular group for three months and today they were finally close to capturing all of them. The group consisted out of a couple of Mage, four Hags and seven Dark Wizards. They had been planning to raise an army of Dark Creatures to overthrow the Ministry and gain control over the Wizarding World.
A rather cliché plan when it came to evil plans if one asked Harry, but cliché or not, this group of criminals had turned out to be more than a simple ragtag band. They had got dangerously close to making a deal with the vampires and the only reason why the Aurors had been able to interfere today was because one of the vampires had come forward with the information.
Thank Merlin Simon had been stubborn enough to keep his vampire informant. Morgana knew how far the criminals would have got otherwise.
The wizard he was chasing slipped into a small alley, one so inconspicuous Harry might have run past it if he wasn't so fixated on the guy. Like hell was he going to let him escape!
A bright purple beam greeted him when he skidded into the alley and he dropped down hastily, hearing it whistling sharply as it sped right over his head. Rolling to the right, he nary avoided being hit by a Stunner, firing back one of his own. That was answered with loud cursing, but his spell hadn't hit its mark apparently because a bright blue ball came speeding at him next.
Deflecting it with a shield, he watched the ball hit the opposite wall and slam straight through it, creating a large hole. He winced and hoped nobody was in the building but then another curse – a pitch black lightening bolt this time – zoomed straight at him and he couldn't afford to think of anything else but the duel now.
Curses and spells went back and forth, slamming into shields, bursting apart against the dumpsters they were hiding, creating small craters in the ground. The air sparked and oozed with the foul smell of Dark Magic. A small fire started in the furthest corner of the alley, for now still contained to a small area, but that wouldn't last long.
Finally Harry saw an opening and he took it, firing a Stunner at the other man with a bit more force than he intended to. The spell slammed into the dark haired man so forcefully, the power behind it had him flying through the air before landing hard on the ground a couple of feet further.
If he wasn't unconscious due to the spell, the harsh smack against the ground would have done the trick for sure.
Still, Harry was cautious as he approached the guy. He was already bearing a rather nasty cut in his left side, which throbbed and stung with every step he took, the blood sticking the material of his Auror robes to the wound. Getting his clothes off after this was going to be so much fun.
"Accio wand!" Pushing his foot against the man's leg, he studied his face for any signs that he was faking being unconscious whilst snatching the wand out of the air. It was rare, but some people developed an immunity towards Stunners and the last thing he needed was for the other guy to sudden lung forwards and grab him or kick him.
No wand didn't necessarily mean a person was harmless.
The man's face was slack jawed, bruised and cut from curses he hadn't been able to avoid, and he laid there completely limp, not even stirring when Harry pressed his foot a tad harder against him.
"Got you," he sighed, feeling exhaustion creeping up on him. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in what felt like weeks and this duel just now hadn't improved matters. He had the ringleader now, though, and back at the house the other Aurors were rounding up the rest of the gang.
As soon as the whole group was delivered to Azkaban to wait there for their trial to start the case would be closed and he could finally get some decent sleep again.
Until the next complicated case popped up, of course.
"Incarcerous!" Instead of ropes, though, a bunch of deep blue flowers burst out of the tip of his wand, covering the wizard's chest completely.
"Fuck, not again!" he hissed, scowling at his wand as if it had betrayed him.
It might as well have, because that spell definitely didn't conjure damn flowers! Why the hell did this keep happening to –
"Harry, mate, you all right?"
Ron was standing at the entrance of the alley with some blood smeared across his forehead from a thin cut. He didn't look too badly hurt, save for a small limp when he took a couple of steps closer.
"You got the rest of them?" Harry asked, turning around to face him, wondering in the meantime how the hell he was going to explain the presence of those flowers.
"Yeah, Carl was tying up the last one when I left," Ron confirmed. "You got the leader?"
"Yep, got him with a Stunner after a while," Harry sighed, rubbing some sweat from his forehead before waving haphazardly at the unconscious man behind him.
His friend came closer and his eyebrows shot up when he noticed the flowers. "Eh, Harry, why are there flowers on his chest?" he asked perplexed and well, Harry couldn't exactly blame him.
"A weird result of two of our curses that clashed together," the dark haired man said vaguely, throwing out the first excuse he could come up with.
"Right," Ron said slowly, eyeing the flowers dubiously for a moment before a quick flick and swish of his wand had most of the flowers scattering to the ground. He shook his head and said, "Incarcerous!"
Ron's wand wasn't being a dick to its owner, clearly, because thick ropes instantly wrapped themselves around the Dark Wizard, tight enough that he wouldn't be able to move even an inch without them digging into his skin.
Some of the remaining flowers got crushed between the ropes, bleeding blue over the light brown restraints.
Clasping the dark haired man's shoulder, Ron grinned, already having dismissed the odd presence of the flowers, "Come on, let's go. You should see a Healer before you go home, though."
"Yeah, I know," Harry grimaced, gingerly poking the injury in his side. He clenched his teeth when the pain flared up again and sighed annoyed. All he wanted was to go home and catch some sleep, but he knew he'd get it if he went home without consulting a Healer first.
After all the crap with this group and his wand acting up, he really wasn't in the mood for a new fight about his supposed carelessness.
Levitating the Dark Wizard in front of him, Ron started making his way out of the alley. "Let's dump these bastards in Azkaban."
"All right," Harry muttered and after casting a last look at the flowers – feeling like they were mocking him, even in their scattered state – he followed Ron out of the alley.
Thank Merlin he wasn't part of the group who were tasked with cleaning up the remains of the magic used.
The injury in his side was completely healed.
Given that Healing magic existed that wasn't so strange naturally – Morgana knew he had needed his fair share of Healing already in his life so far – except for the fact that the Healer hadn't cast any spells to speed up the healing of the injury.
By the time one of the Healers had seen to him, the deep gash in his side had already knitted itself together, leaving nothing but a pink line behind. His bruises and other cuts had healed as well; old blood crusted to his skin and some tearing in his robes the only evidence he had ever been hurt.
He had told the bemused Healer that someone else had already taken care of him and had rushed out of the room before the blonde woman had been able to ask any further questions.
Problem was: no Healer or Mediwizard or Mediwitch or even one of his colleagues had healed his injuries.
"What the hell is happening to me?" he whispered, staring at his mirror image.
As soon as he had arrived home, he had gone straight to the bedroom and had got rid of all his clothes, coming to a stop in front of the large mirror. There were streaks of dirt across his face and hands from where he had rolled over the ground and hidden behind dumpsters and grimy walls, and smudges of blood on his cheek, right leg and his left side. The blood had coloured to a rusty brown and was flaking; it itched slightly.
Running his hands through his hair, he gripped the dark locks and stared at himself; his gaze gliding over the faint pink scar in his left side; the old burn scar on his chest from the locket; the small scar in his arm from where the Basilisk had bit him. There were a couple of other scars on his back and legs, all of them results of the battles he had been in.
Most scars had needed specialised Healing spells – but the last couple of months his injuries started healing without any outside help. No matter whether he got burned, cut, scraped, stabbed, sliced apart – no matter the injury, a couple of hours later he'd be fine, every injury healed. No spell or potion was needed to help him with recovering from his wounds.
If it had only been the whole healing from injuries without actual spells part, he could have dealt with that. It would still have been incredibly weird, but he could chalk it off to his magic being overeager to help him. His magic had helped him out in the past before without him being really aware of it.
So while weird, he could have dealt with it. No biggie. It was actually quite handy, considering he didn't have to get poked and prodded by a Healer anymore, nor answer the same goddamn questions every time, despite the fact that his answers never changed.
In the last two months, however, his magic had started to act up in other ways too, ways that he couldn't find an explanation for at all. Sometimes he could cast his spells, charms and curses without any issues, but then there were times – times like today when the Binding spell had turned out completely different – where his magic would start acting all nilly willy and produce random results like flowers where ropes should be and little fireworks when he actually wanted to conjure water.
It was as if his magic was starting to live its own life and he was starting to really worry about it. He knew he should seek someone out, maybe Hermione might know the answer, but …
How the hell was he going to explain this? How the hell could he explain that he healed on his own and that his spell work occasionally fucked up?
That wasn't normal, right? He had never heard of someone healing on their own spontaneously. He was still being stared at because of the whole Boy-Who-Lived-Twice bullshit – how much worse would the attention get if word came out that he could heal on his own and his magic had become unreliable?
He'd be an experiment to the Healers, a walking target for any criminal, and a freak to the others. The public still tended to change its opinion regarding him every week it seemed – they weren't going to be better once this news reached their ears.
"Fuck." Despondently he sank down on the bed and buried his face into his hands.
What the hell was he going to do about this? He couldn't write off anymore as just pure coincidence as he had done at the start. This was a pattern, becoming consistent to the point he could no longer afford to keep ignoring it. This time his magic had only acted up after the Dark Wizard had already been unconscious – next time he might not be so lucky anymore.
What could he do, though? Was there even a solution for this? Maybe it was just temporary, a strange fluke, his magic acting funny for a while.
Maybe his magic would go back to normal if he waited a little longer?
"Harry?"
"Shit!" He jumped off from the bed, taking a few steps away from it as footsteps ascended the staircase. He cleared his throat and called out, "I'm in the bedroom!"
"You're home early – please don't tell me that's your blood." Draco came to a stop in the doorway; his grey eyes narrowing dangerously as he took in the sight of his half naked lover.
"We captured that group who wanted to use Dark Creatures to overthrow the Ministry," Harry chose to deflect, bracing himself as the blond strode towards him.
"That's great and I congratulate you for that, but you didn't answer my question," Draco drawled; his voice gaining that dangerous lilt that told Harry he was starting to walk on thin ice. His brewing must not have gone well today if he was this easily irritated.
"It wasn't anything serious," Harry hedged and clucked his tongue, waving weakly at his side. "Just some curses that got past my shield, but I'm already healed, see?"
"And that should make me feel better?" Draco frowned; his eyes darkened as he traced the pink scar with his index finger. "This one looked rather deep."
Harry shrugged, looking away awkwardly as he inwardly cursed himself out. He should have paid better attention to the clock, damn it. Draco always arrived home around this hour; he should have taken a shower and changed into new clothes before the blond could catch him in his post battle state.
"It wasn't that bad," he tried again, but it was a weak retort and they both knew it.
"Would you please consider the idea of becoming a duel instructor?" Draco asked plaintively.
Annoyed, Harry pulled away, stepping out of the blond's reach. "We already discussed this, Draco," he said stiffly. "I'm not giving up my job as an Auror, how many times do I have to say this?"
Grey eyes flashed, igniting with cold anger. "And how many times do I have to tell you that I don't like seeing you constantly hurt? You're taking too many risks and one of these days that's going to end badly, Potter!"
"I know what the fuck I'm doing, Malfoy!" Harry spat, anger flaring up in response and he balled his fists. "I told you from the start that I'm not going to give up my job! You knew what you were getting into!"
They had had this argument several times before already – practically since they had started dating three years ago. Draco wanted him to become a duel instructor, because he thought being an Auror was too dangerous. Harry wasn't stupid, he wasn't going to deny that his job could be very dangerous at times, but he wasn't willing to give it up either. Being an Auror was something he was good at; he could make a difference in the world by putting away the bad people and keeping others safe.
As a duel instructor he would be able to help people, yes, teach them how to defend themselves, but it wasn't the same as actively keeping others safe by putting criminals in Azkaban.
Did he see himself chasing Dark Wizards for the rest of his life? Maybe not. Maybe in a couple of years he'd grow tired of the chasing, of the fighting, of the endless paperwork, of the arguing and occasional backstabbing in the Auror force. But that was then, not now. Now he couldn't imagine not being an Auror, couldn't envision doing something else.
If Draco couldn't deal with that, well …
"Is it that awful that I just want you safe?!" Draco hissed, his wand sparking in reaction to his anger.
"Your potions can explode and you can die," Harry stated bluntly, crossing his arms and ignoring how the chilly air coming through the open window stung his bare skin. "You could inhale toxic smoke by accident, get hurt if you spill a potion, burn yourself – I'm not telling you to stop being a Potions Master, even though I've seen first hand how even the most experienced brewer can make a deadly mistake."
"Damn it, Harry, that's not the same thing!" Draco snapped, taking a step closer. "And you fucking know that! Why are you so goddamn stubborn? You don't have to be a hero all the time!"
Like a balloon that got popped with a needle, all the anger suddenly left Harry, leaving nothing but a bone deep exhaustion in its wake. He didn't want to continue this argument; nothing new was being said anyways, it was just another rehash of the other fights they had had about this topic before. A fight they'd probably keep having until Harry decided he had enough of being an Auror.
There was no point in this. He just wanted to take a shower, forget this whole fight had ever happened and curl up in Draco's arms.
Just for this evening he wanted to forget how weird his magic was acting and just wanted to feel normal.
Was that too much to ask for?
Shoulders slumping, he uncrossed his arms and released a soft sigh. "Can we just – can we take a bath together? I don't want to fight anymore," he said quietly.
Draco deflated visibly as his anger left him as well. "You think I like fighting with you?" he asked wearily. "I'm just worried about you, Harry."
The dark haired man nodded slowly. "I know." He did. There was no denying that. They might have started out as rivals, enemies even at one point, once, but they had turned into so much more now. "And I understand."
He was the one who took a step closer now, holding out his hand. "I'm not saying I'll be an Auror for whole my life, but now I don't want to be anything else. I promise I won't take any unnecessary risks."
Draco opened his mouth, presumably to protest that notion, but Harry went on, waving to his body with his other hand, "Now as you can see, I'm in need of a bath. Care to join me and make sure I'm clean everywhere?" He forced himself to sound light-hearted, taking another couple of steps closer until his fingers brushed against Draco's arm.
"I guess I could do that," Draco murmured and closed one arm around Harry's waist, pressing him closer against his body before angling Harry's head in a better position to kiss him.
Harry clasped his own arms around Draco's neck and kissed back, feeling soft lips part underneath his own and hands dipping down to rest on his arse.
Yeah, forgetting his weird magic for one night wouldn't hurt. What was the worst that could happen anyway?
AN2: It has been a while since I last posted a Drarry story, so I hope this part wasn't too bad!
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!
I hope to see you all back in the next part! *slinks away to work on stories*
Cuddles
Melissa
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A Very Late Birthday Present