Entry tags:

harry/draco, hp, my fic

FIC: All's Fair in Love and Wards (Harry/Draco)
Title: All's Fair in Love and Wards
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): None
Word Count: ~12,500

Summary: Wards are tricky things. So is Draco Malfoy.

Author's Notes: Repost of my hd_holidays fic for snottygrrl - she gave a lot of
great kinks and clichés to choose from. I really hope you enjoy this sort of Auror!Bond!Fic filled with what I hope is good banter, sex, UST, and holiday cheer. Original Posting here.: All's Fair In Love And Wards

Beta thanks to thevina, the gang at I.Smith, and the FFC gals. Special thanks to pir8fancier who is a master of 1stPPOV and gave me some great insight. All of you are always thoughtful, helpful, and make me a better amateur hack writer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had just finished casting the wards over the second floor when I heard the door chime. Certainly an assassin wouldn't ring, or would he? Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for whatever was to happen.

Pim popped into existence in front of me. The last of the house-elves to serve the house of Malfoy, Mother insisted that he stay with the Manor. At first, I didn't like the idea of him traipsing around underfoot, but now I was eternally grateful to my mother and her generosity. Without the little creature, they had to hire three Squibs as servants to care for our villa in Provence. With him, I had at least a small line of defense between any intruder and me.

"Master Draco, an Auror to see the Master, Sir." Pim bowed his head and backed away a step to await my instructions. At least he knew his position far better than that treacherous Dobby.

Postleweed had done his last inspection and interview with Father the week before Mother and he had left for France. The old codger had been our Auror representative since the end of the trials. He had come out of retirement after his son, also an Auror, had been killed in the war. Postleweed, who was obviously a magna cum laude graduate of the Mad-Eye Moody Auror charm school, had requested Father's case specifically and made it his life's mission to make us miserable. In fact the only time I'd seen him crack a smile was when he signed the papers approving my parents move to France.

I had assumed that it would be at least six months before the next inspection. I'd better see what he wanted. Aurors were much like Doxys or any other form of vermin. The longer you ignored the problem, the worse the resultant infestation.

"Tell him I'll be down in a minute."

Pim nodded and Disapparated. I needed to get rid of Postleweed quickly. The new wards were taking forever. The wand that my parents had procured for me from the French wand maker, Trousseau, was barely adequate. It was ash with unicorn hair and after a year with it, it didn't seem to have coalesced with my magic any better than on the first day I took it in hand. The preliminary spells would take all day and then I still had the potion to brew and the final ritual to perform to seal the enchantment. I doubted I would be able to sleep without the completed wards, and now that was looking to be at least two nights away.

When I reached the entry foyer, I was shocked to discover not Postleweed and his haughty Half-Blood stare, but Harry Potter in the flesh. I had successfully avoided him after the trials, as in physically avoided him. Of course I'd seen him in the papers. It was impossible not to hear of him. His name was persistently on the tongue of almost every British witch and wizard, while The Prophet and Witch Weekly devoted entire issues to the Chosen One turned Auror. I was amazed to realize that over a year had passed since I was in the same room with him, and it had done nothing to diminish my general hatred at the sight of him.

"Potter," I spat, and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Malfoy," he said with no hint of our boyish taunts, but with the air of confidence that they probably beat into the heads of all Auror trainees.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Two could play this game.

"I need to speak to you regarding the Manor wards," he said, absolutely all business.

"I don't see how that's any of your concern."

"The Department of MLE has monitoring spells set on the Manor. Someone's been messing with the wards."

"They're my wards."

"Yes, but they are subject to inspection and compliance with Article Three of the conditions of your and your father's parole set forth by the Ministry. The wards serving the Manor and the grounds shall be subject to inspection and approval— "

"Where's Postleweed? He's our Auror representative."

"He retired. For good this time, I think."

"What?"

"Two weeks ago. After your parents moved to France, he decided that it was a good time to retire before any other major case sucked him back in."

"And just when was the Ministry going to inform me?" This was outrageous.

"They had to reassign your case, which proved to be problematic since no one was too keen on taking you on."

He wore the most obscenely smug grin. This couldn't be happening. No. I refused to believe that—

"You're stuck with me, Malfoy, and I intend to see that you follow the conditions of your parole. All the conditions to the letter."

"Absolutely not!"

"No one else wants you."

"You can't be my representative! You're… you're only an Auror trainee."

"I was promoted four months ago."

"No, I won't consent to this." My mind was reeling. I had barely survived the machinations of one of the deadliest wizards in centuries, and the Ministry sought only the perpetuation of my personal hell. The past year I had jumped through every last one of their degrading hoops to avoid Azkaban. I saw what it had done to Father, and while I'd never had said it to his face he was a pale shadow of the man by whose wand I was raised. I thought I would do anything to avoid that fate, but now they wanted me to sit up and beg. I was no one's dog— certainly not Potter's.

"You don't have to. Article One clearly states that—"

"Shut up!"

"What have you been doing with the wards, Malfoy?"

"None of your business!"

If we'd still been back at Hogwarts, we would have been exchanging curses by this point, but now Auror Potter merely twirled his wand between his fingers. He twirled and twirled all the while meeting my eyes with a frosty stare. It was then I noticed that it was his old wand from Hogwarts. I'm not sure why, but I had always assumed that he had been using my wand all this time, or maybe the one he had won from the Dark Lord.

"I needed to increase the strength of the Manor wards," I said succinctly.

"The wards were set to the Ministry allowed level for strength and spell type."

"Those wards couldn't keep out a cat."

"Non-magical animals should be able to cross the ground wards without problem."

I sneered at him. "You know what I meant. A second year could undo those wards."

"The wards are intended to give you fair warning. You'd have plenty of time to Apparate away."

He had an answer for everything. "And if he wanted to kill me in my sleep?"

"No one wants to kill you in your sleep. You're being paranoid. You managed the last year or so without incident."

"Yes, but my parents were here. We could look out for each other."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of living alone."

"Shut up."

"Is ickle Draco afraid of the dark?"

There were no words to sufficiently describe how much I loathed him at that moment. "Is this the manner in which professional Aurors are supposed to conduct themselves?"

He stopped playing with his wand and had the grace to blush. "I apologize; that was uncalled for. Look, whatever wards you were trying to put in place are beyond what's allowed. The Aurors need to be able to cross them."

"Yes, because I do so enjoy your company."

"Malfoy, those are the conditions. You follow them or you end up in Azkaban. Now, personally I wouldn't mind to see what a few months in Azkaban might do to your attitude."

"My attitude?"

"Yes, your attitude."

"You'll be the death of me, and I mean that literally."

"A tad dramatic, don't you think?"

"You think you know everything." I refused to tell him about the letters. I doubt he'd be any help at all and would hold it over my head. The last thing I wanted was to be saved by Harry fucking Potter… Again.

He let out a big sigh and ran his hand through that untamable mane of his. "Look, I'll help you reset them to the maximum allowable energy level, that of a very strong Stunning Spell."

"I hate you."

"I don't doubt it, but I'm not leaving until they're in order. It'll take you a lot longer to do it all by yourself."

He was right, unfortunately. With Potter, the wards could be set before nightfall, while I was growing wearier by the second. Given my exhaustion, I didn't think that I could have set them on my own even with my old wand. I hadn't had a decent night's sleep in over a week. They would have to do for now, and I'd have to figure out some other way to protect myself inside my own home.

"Fine," I spat. "You can start with dungeons." The idea of forcing Potter to take an unpleasant stroll down memory lane had merit. At the very least I could make him as miserable as I was.

The October sun was almost set by the time we finished. We stood outside the front gate. I loved the Manor this time of year; the foliage was breathtaking. Too bad the view was marred by Potter's obnoxious face.

"I'll test them if you don't mind," he said in far too friendly a tone for my comfort.

"By all means," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. It wouldn't do for him to think I took him seriously. Auror or not, he was still a speccy-faced-git. All that power and he couldn't manage to channel it into fixing his eyesight.

He removed his Auror badge from the inside of his robes and placed it on the ground. "Back in a flash," he said as he drew his wand and attempted to Apparate through the wards. He was immediately stunned and bounced backward.

As he lay there unconscious, I couldn't quite fathom his stupidity for trusting me. I could have done anything to him at that point. His Auror badge alone would've had many fine uses. Sadly he knew what I knew, which was I would do none of those things. Our family had rolled over and submitted in full to the Ministry. Besides, it's not like I could have got away with it. Of course, I could have cast an Ennervate, but I was enjoying seeing him there, lifeless in the dirt.

A few minutes later, he began to cough and sputter. He clutched his wand tightly as if making sure it was still in his hand. His first spell was Tempus. He'd been out for over three minutes. His second spell was Priori Incantatum on my wand. I guess he trusted me less than I thought.

"Those should serve you well," he said with his usual unfounded confidence, and refastened his Auror badge to his robes.

"Yes, I'm quite certain no Squibs will be breaking into the Manor this evening." But the truth was that the wards were now at least a little stronger than before, even if he had set them to allow Aurors to pass through them.

"Whatever, Malfoy. Look, owl me at the Ministry if you have any problems."

"Right," I drawled.

He rolled his eyes and Disapparated. I really hated him. I also hated the Ministry, Muggles, and my parents for leaving me alone. I couldn't believe that they expected me to go to France with them. Father said that it would only be for a while until the climate changed. Hell freezing over, maybe. No, my home was here. I wasn't going to run. Well, not anymore.

***

That first night, despite feeling unprotected, I fell asleep from utter exhaustion. The second night I drank an entire bottle of wine with dinner and collapsed on the pillows even though another letter had arrived that day.

The letters kept coming and on the third night, despite the lurking danger, I needed to get out. I also needed to get laid. I'd settle for a blowjob, so I went to The Trickle and Key for a drink and perhaps more. It wasn't busy, but I saw Gallwan Castlebrook over in the corner. He gave decent enough head, and as a fellow Slytherin, I was fairly certain that he wouldn't want to kill me and lose access to my own talented cock sucking skills. I bought him a drink and took him home, where I decided that I would fuck him after all.

It turned out to be a good thing that I did, because sometime after midnight I felt the wards trip. Had I been asleep, I might have missed it. I woke Gallwan from his post-orgasm stupor, and hastily we threw on our trousers.

I called for Pim, who immediately showed up in an absolute frenzied state. "There is someone here, here in Master's Manor. Oh, Master Malfoy, what to do? What to do?"

I tried to get the panicked thing to tell me who and where, but he kept running around in a tizzy, so I had to slap him.

Gallwan wasn't much more useful. No, he didn't leave, but he stayed well behind me as we crept down the main staircase. Part of me wanted to Apparate away, but the shrewd half knew that I shouldn't miss the opportunity to catch my would-be assailant and put an end to this once and for all.

Unfortunately, he got off the first shot, a Slicing Hex that hit me in the stomach. I began to lose consciousness just as Gallwan tried to stun him. Everything went black as my body crumbled, and I fell down the stairs.

When I regained consciousness, I was in St. Mungo's. Gallwan had scared off the intruder and then had immediately Apparated me to the Imminent Death Ward. Apparently he had more merit than simply a good arse to fuck. After the previous night's escapades, however, I doubted I'd see him again. While my sexual prowess was phenomenal, most people liked to avoid deadly assault after a thorough fucking.

They patched me up, gave me potions to drink, and then, mercifully, let me sleep. At some time during the night I reached for my wand under my pillow, only to find it missing. I never went to bed without my wand under my pillow. It took me a moment to remember that I was in St. Mungo's. I found my wand on the bedside table. The wood felt cold in my hand. Sadly, my magic had failed me. I tucked the wand into its proper spot and then drifted back to sleep.

I awoke to one of the worst sights in my entire life— a scowling Harry Potter standing over my bed.

"Malfoy? You awake?"

"I am now." I coughed as I sat up, and was surprised when he handed me a glass of water.

"Drink slowly," he said.

As if I could have done otherwise. I glared at him as I sipped. His face was unshaven and his eyes had that red, dry, hadn't slept all night look. Good.

"You didn't tell me about the letters," he said in a grave voice.

I was still disoriented and desperately tried to get my brain working. "How did you find the letters?"

"Last night I went with a team to the Manor."

"I bet you did."

"You were almost killed. Of course we had to investigate. Imagine my surprise when I found seventeen concisely written death threats sitting atop a desk. One letter every day since your parents left for France. Why didn't you tell me about the letters?"

"Like it would have mattered. You're probably disappointed whoever it was didn't finish me off."

"That's not true." Potter ran his hand through his unruly excuse for hair. "Why would I have helped you set the wards?"

"Which obviously did absolutely no good whatsoever, and if you'd remember correctly, I told you someone wanted to kill me."

"How the hell was I supposed to take you seriously?"

I was tired and we were going in circles. "It's not like you could have made a difference."

"I could have had them analyzed for magical signatures or other clues."

"Do you think I'm stupid? You think I—" My throat tightened and I started coughing again. I drank some more water and saw Potter waiting for me to finish.

"Well, we're analyzing them now," he said. "Hermione's the best. If anyone can find something, she can."

"That Mud—"

"Watch yourself, Malfoy."

I'd hit a nerve. I could feel the anger in his magic as it radiated off his body.

He changed the subject. "Last night someone brought you in, but no one here got a name. Who was it?"

"Why?"

"He was witness. I need to interview him. Why do you have to make things so fucking difficult?"

"Because I despise you. You shouldn't be the Auror on my case, and your incompetence almost got me killed."

He squinted his eyes at me and balled his fists at his sides. He was probably counting to ten in his head in a desperate attempt not to throttle me. "Just tell me who it was."

"Gallwan Castlebrook," I said, knowing that Gallwan was most likely finished with me whether I told Potter about him or not.

"Can you tell me what happened last night?"

In for a Sickle, I decided that I might as well capitalize on Potter's guilt and connections at the Ministry. Perhaps he'd let me put up the Malfoy wards since they'd held for centuries. My father performed the yearly ritual up until he had been sent to Azkaban –also Potter's fault. So I told him all about my night with Gallwan from our meeting at T&K to our encounter with my assailant. I watched Potter's reaction carefully as I described taking Gallwan home with me. If he was shocked at my admission, he didn't let it show. Then again, I've always thought my sexual leanings were rather obvious.

"Is there anything else you remember? Maybe a glimpse of what he looked like or wore?" he asked after I had finished my story.

"It was dark. I only saw the light of the Hex coming at me."

"All right, all right. The Healers want to keep you here overnight, but you should be fine to go home tomorrow."

"So the killer can finish the job," I said with as much venom as possible.

"I'm not going to let that happen."

"Oh, really?"

"Just… just rest up and I'll see you here in the morning. I need to interview Castlebrook and check in at the office. We'll start compiling a list of suspects. "

I could tell from his voice that he knew it was going to be a very long day. There was my silver lining. It brought a smile to my face.

"That's going to be an awfully long list."

He nodded and made to leave. "And get well," he said as he left me to my peace and quiet in the well-guarded fortress that was St. Mungo's.

***

The next morning the Healer was in the process of signing off on my release when Potter returned. He looked tired, maybe not as tired as the day before, but definitely not well rested.

"We need to talk, Malfoy. If you would excuse us, please," he said to the Healer.

"Did you catch my attacker already?" I asked, simply to be a pain in his arse.

"No. We don't have any leads either. The letters were completely clean. Not a single trace of magic, hair, or even fingerprints."

"I could have told you that." Even with my abysmal replacement wand, I had been able to cast revealing and detection spells on the letters.

Potter frowned. He looked frustrated. Despite my life being in danger, I cherished his unhappiness.

"This is serious," he said.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Yes, the victim flayed open typically indicates such. I told you the wards were insufficient to keep out an attacker, and what did you do? Oh yes, you accused me of being dramatic."

"Because you didn't tell me about the letters!" Potter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Do you have any idea at all who might have sent them?"

"Do you think I'd be here if I had? Please. Half of the wizarding population probably wants me dead, present company included."

"I don't want you dead. I didn't save your arse—"

He stopped himself, and I found myself wondering about the rest of that sentence. Why had he saved me? From the Fiendfyre? From Azkaban? It was a question that weighed heavily on my mind since the fall of the Dark Lord. We were always at odds, always stumbling into one another, and always he came out the victor. Why not put me out of my misery?

"The letters," he said, "are disturbing. They all say the same thing."

"Yes, I've read them."

"Draco Malfoy, you will die by my hand. They're rather single minded."

"Do tell." I really, really hated him. He was going to get me killed.

"Even the attack shows that he has a singular goal of killing you. He didn't want to confront you. He only wanted to attack you. He obviously chose late at night to catch you off guard. As soon he saw Castlebrook, he fled. He didn't try to finish you off. He didn't want to fight him."

"You came up with this all by yourself?"

He rubbed his temples. "I'm trying to tell you that we, the Aurors, are taking this seriously. I believe your life is in danger, and as your representative, I have a duty to ensure your safety while under Ministry probation."

"So?"

"So, I'm willing to compromise on the wards." Potter closed his eyes as he said it. "But I need to be involved in the casting to ensure that I can get through them."

There's always a catch, isn't there? "I'll set them so that you're allowed through."

"Not good enough. You could always change it. I need to be permanently incorporated."

"I doubt that's even possible. The wards I need to set are ancestral wards of the Malfoy family. We've used them for centuries. It involves… well… aspects that specify our bloodline."

"Just show me the spell. I'll have Bill Weasley take a look at it. He's a curse breaker for Gringotts and an expert at these sorts of things."

"Fine," I said, while trying to remember which Weasley was Bill. There were so many, it was difficult to keep straight.

"Good. We'll meet you at the Manor in one hour."

I had nothing to lose. I was betting that once Potter realized what was involved, he'd relent and let me set the wards as I saw fit. Whatever his reasons, he didn't want me dead. Although I suspected he simply didn't want his reputation marred by losing one of his very first charges.

***

I sat in the study with a cup of Earl Grey. Hot tea usually helped to calm my nerves, but that day it had no effect. I instructed Pim to bring Harry Potter and his guest to me when they arrived. They were half an hour late. Upon seeing him, I was distressed to recognize which Weasley was Bill. He had scars over his neck and face where Greyback had mauled him. He was also the one who had married the Beauxbatons Triwizard Champion. My parents knew the Delacours well. Why on earth she'd stoop to marry a Weasley, I couldn't fathom. Sure he was tall, rugged, and quite handsome even with the scars, if you could get past the red hair and freckles, but his family had nothing to offer. Literally nothing.

"Malfoy," Potter said, "this is Bill Weasley."

"Hello," I replied tersely and then gestured to the book on the desk. I had it opened to the description of the warding enchantment. "This is a family volume. I'd appreciate it if you didn't look at anything but the subject at hand."

"Believe me, there's nothing about your family that I wish to know better. I'm only doing this as a favor to Harry." His stare bored into me with pure revulsion.

I stood up and offered Weasley my seat at the desk. He sat down and began reading with Potter looking over his shoulder. I called Pim for another cup of tea and took it to the settee. The Ministry agreement had no specifications regarding hospitality, so I offered them nothing.

Weasley read quietly, but every so often would "hmm", "oh", or point out a passage to Potter.

"What do you think?" Potter asked after Weasley had stopped reading and sat silently for two minutes.

"Oh, it can be done."

"Preposterous!" I stood up and walked over to them. "The wards are intertwined with the magic of the Malfoy family."

"Yes, but only because they're made to be that way." He pointed to a paragraph at the bottom of the page. "You see here, the wards can be expanded."

"Yes, but to other family members," I explained.

"Doesn't specify that. Anyone who participates in the ritual would also be bonded to the wards. In fact, most of these spells make such allowances. Generations ago, families would form alliances to protect themselves against common enemies."

"Bill," Harry said while gently pushing up his glasses and rubbing the end of his nose, "please explain."

"Well, how it works is this: there are preliminary spells to set the wards on the Manor and the surrounding grounds, and then a fortifying potion is brewed. The final step is the completion of the potion with the binding ritual."

"Okay," Potter mumbled. I watched his face carefully as Weasley explained the details of the ritual.

"The ritual involves sex magic, Harry."

"Sex magic?"

"Yes," Weasley said with a hint of a smile. "In fact, most familial wards of this type involve some sort of blood or sexual fluid."

"Sexual fluid?" Potter's face contorted in the strangest manner.

"Ejaculate to be exact."

"I have to… umm… into a cauldron?" The hand gesture was priceless.

I snickered behind him and Potter shot me a wicked glare.

Weasley elaborated, "No, the spell takes care of the transfer, but the ritual is performed in proximity to the brew. In the case of a head of the house, he would masturbate. If there was a bonded couple that both wanted to draw from the wards, they could have intercourse."

"I have to have sex with Malfoy?" All the color drained from Potter's skin.

Ha, as if I'd have sex with him. "No, you ignorant twit. We merely masturbate at the same time. Have the stones for it, Potter?"

"Shut it, Malfoy!" Potter turned to Weasley. "Please, tell me there are other options for this."

"Malfoy's right. To ensure that you are part of the spell, you would have to masturbate as part of the binding ritual."

"And then what?" Potter asked.

"Well, the potion then fortifies the wards. The primary participants in the ritual are bound to them."

"Meaning?"

"They can feel any breach or magic that comes in contact with the wards, and they can also draw power from the wards."

"Increase their magical power?"

"Only while they're on the property," Weasley clarified. "Harry, Dark wizards created these rites. They were developed not just to guard against danger, but also to destroy their enemies if the opportunity presented itself."

Potter turned to me. "And you participated in this ritual?"

"Don't be a pervert, Potter. My father set the wards. That was his duty as Master of the Manor. As blood of his blood, I was automatically recognized, as was my mother as his bonded wife."

Potter seemed to be considering everything. He looked at a loss.

"No one would fault you for backing out now. I'm more than capable of setting them myself," I said.

"I can't let you do that."

"Then I'm as good as dead." The pigheaded git would rather let me die than let me protect myself.

"I mean I can't let you do it yourself. I'll do it." Potter looked at the book and read over the ritual once more. "Bill, how long do the wards last?"

"They have to be refortified yearly."

"So by doing this, I'd be bound to the wards for a year?"

"Maybe a little longer. If after a year the ritual isn't repeated, it still probably takes some time for the wards to dissipate."

"About a month," I added, knowing how long it took for the wards to dissolve after my father's incarceration.

"Well, I don't fancy moving in here so it doesn't look like I have much choice."

Weasley looked skeptical. "Harry, I don't see the harm in it, but are you sure you want to do this? You're going to be stuck with sensing any breach, movement, or changes in the wards for the next thirteen months."

"He has a right to live here, and I'm obligated to ensure his safety."

"I'm in the room!" I shouted. "Don't I get a say?"

"Sure. You can choose to stay here with the wards as they are." Potter stared me down as if daring me to object.

I held on tight to the notion that once we began the ritual, Potter would be unable to complete it. If he failed, then I would be the sole Master of the Manor – safe from my attacker and safe from Potter and the Ministry. Once the ritual began, there was only a thirty-minute window to complete the transfer of semen. I would do everything in my homosexual power to make sure Potter's cock never got past half-mast.

"Today then," I said. "I don't want to spend another night here unprotected."

"Fine," Potter challenged. "Bill, can you stay a little while longer, just to make sure we cast the initial spells properly?"

"Sure, Harry." Weasley rose from the desk chair, taking my family tome with him. "Lead the way, Malfoy." I didn't like the look Weasley gave me. He seemed far too pleased with himself.

***

We began in the East Wing. Weasley taught Potter the spell and within minutes he was covering twice as much ground as I was. Weasley must have noticed, because I caught him looking at me and whispering in Potter's ear. After we had moved on to the kitchens, I felt Potter's troubled stare.

"What?" I demanded.

"You're having difficulties," he said in a carefully neutral tone. "What wand is that?"

"It's from France." It had to be considering the price we'd paid for it.

"It doesn't suit you, does it?"

"Potter, I think you'll find that very little in this new world order does suit me. Not the Ministry, not the general wizarding populace, and certainly not the lunatic out there who wants my head on a platter."

With his mouth agape, Potter stared at me. After a minute, he turned to Weasley, "Bill, keep an eye on things. I'll be right back."

Weasley had barely grunted a confused okay before Potter Disapparated. I continued setting the wards.

Ten minutes later, Potter returned. He hesitated a moment, and then held out a wand to me. My wand.

I was bewildered.

"We'll never get this done. Hell, I don't even know if it'll work if you keep using that wand," Potter said as he extended the handle of the wand farther towards me.

"I…" I was at a loss for words.

"I don't use it," he said, as if that made any difference to me.

I grasped the hawthorn handle and a surge of magic thrummed through my body. It felt wonderful to have my magic so accessible instead something high on a mountaintop that I could barely reach. I tucked the useless frog wand into my robes and began casting the wards. It felt so easy, so completely natural. I looked over at Potter, who was watching me intently.

"Thank you," I said, not knowing if he was giving me the wand for just today or more permanently. I would worry about that later.

"You're welcome," he said, continuing to watch me cast the ward spell several more times before returning to work.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Weasley asked him.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

We didn't speak for several hours after that. By mid-afternoon we were all weary and in need of refreshment. I offered to play host. Weasley declined, saying that he had to go home. That left Potter and me to sit down to tea together alone.

Potter wolfed down his food like he hadn't eaten for days. I'd had a light breakfast at the hospital and hadn't eaten since then, but I still managed to chew properly. His table manners were atrocious.

"Slow down. You'll make yourself sick," I warned.

"Sorry. I didn't eat today," he said sheepishly, and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "How's the wand working out?"

"Good. You said you don't use it?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

He finished chewing another large bite of sandwich and swallowed. "Umm, no. I put it away right after the final battle actually. I like my old wand best."

"Oh." I wasn't sure why I was disappointed.

"You can keep it," he said catching my eyes. "It served its purpose, and it seems as though it wants to return to you."

"Return to me?"

"The wand chooses the wizard."

I remembered Mr. Ollivander saying those exact words to me. It suddenly dawned on me that it was right after I had met Potter for the first time at Madam Malkins. I went over to Ollivander's, where my parents were waiting for me with a selection of wands ready for me to try. It was the very first wand I picked up. I knew instantly; my parents beamed with pride.

"Thank you," I said. It sounded inadequate for such a grand gesture, but I'd be damned if I was going to prostrate myself at Potter's feet.

"You're welcome," he said, and then cut another slice of the pumpkin nut loaf.

"I estimate that we have another four or five hours of work to set the preliminary wards," I said, changing the subject.

"How long to brew the potion?"

"It takes about two hours to prepare, but then it has to simmer overnight for at least twelve hours."

"I guess I should pop back home and pick up a change of clothes and a toothbrush."

"You don't have to stay." If Potter felt uncomfortable about staying in the Manor, he didn't show it.

"I'd feel a lot better if I did. I meant what I said, Malfoy; I'm responsible for your safety. Besides," he said with a smile, "I think you have the room."

"Fine. Suit yourself," I said, feigning nonchalance. The truth was that I did feel a great deal safer with him staying until the wards were up in full.

We worked quietly and efficiently. The preliminary wards were set and the potion brewed by two in the morning. I was exhausted. Pim prepared the room across the hall from mine for Potter.

"No wanking, Potter," I chided as I showed him to his room.

"What?" he asked, startled.

"You need to be ready for tomorrow."

"Oh. Right." Potter blushed and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"Your room has a bathroom en suite if you need to take a cold shower."

"Believe me, that is the farthest thing from my mind."

"Just remember that when you wake up with morning wood."

Potter blushed again. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

I was relatively confident that I would have zero problem enacting my grand plan the next day. Keeping Potter out of my wards would be as easy as riding a broomstick.

"Goodnight, Potter," I said with a hint of flirtation. No reason why I couldn't start early.

How strange it was to go to bed knowing Potter was sleeping in the next room. Perhaps there were snowstorms in hell. Twenty-four hours earlier I would've bet a million Galleons that Potter, the most cherished imbecile and savior of the universe, would never willingly spend the night in Malfoy Manor.

***

I went to sleep with my wand clutched in my hand. Sunlight streamed through the crack in the drapes, and as I woke I found the old length of Hawthorn still comfortably in my grasp. I took the necessary trip to the loo and then off I went to wake Potter. I didn't have to go far. I opened my door to find him on the hallway floor asleep in the world's ugliest pyjamas. They were covered in little Crups wearing Chudley Cannon's hats and scarves – a Weasley idea of a gift, no doubt.

Like me, he had also slept with his wand in his hand. Despite knowing that he was trying to protect me, I took enormous pleasure in jabbing his ribs with my big toe.

"Wake up, Potter. Wake up. It's half past ten."

He barely stirred, so I kicked him a little harder. Pulling his glasses out of his pocket, he put them on and stretched. A small patch of pale skin peeked through as his shirt lifted up with his arms. His stomach was lean and had a sparse patch of dark hair. For a moment I forgot whom I was ogling.

"I'm not that horrible a host," I said. "I did offer you a bed."

"I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd sit out here for a while. I must have fallen asleep."

"Quite dedicated, aren't you?"

He shrugged and slowly got to his feet. "Well since you're being hospitable, how about a spot of breakfast? I desperately need some coffee."

"Pim should have a breakfast ready for us in the family dining room." I led the way.

It felt rather absurd, Potter and I sitting down to breakfast like old friends, or even new lovers. We ate and drank without comment, but our eyes lingered on each other's movements. I found it unsettling.

***

Fed, showered, and dressed, we descended to the basement to check on the potion. It was almost time for the binding. I had Pim Levitate one of the more comfortable couches from the library and instructed him to face it toward the cauldron. I then reviewed the ritual with Potter one last time. As we practiced the incantation, it suddenly dawned on me that like the previous night, when we weren't at each other throats, we actually worked well together. It must have been something I ate.

Clearing my head of all thoughts except for what I needed to accomplish, I gave the potion a final stir. Next, I extinguished all the torches so that the only light in the room was from the fire under the cauldron. We were ready.

Potter and I stood before the cauldron. I reached for his hand and he readily gave it to me. His palm was sweaty, but his hand fit well in mine.

"Relax, Potter. I don't bite."

He gave me the oddest look, and then returned his attention to the cauldron. We recited the incantation seven times, each time letting go of each other's hand to walk around the cauldron in opposite directions and then hold hands for the next incantation.

Then we undressed. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was a few inches shorter than I was, but had put on some weight since the war and had filled out nicely. His features looked masculine, rugged even, in the firelight. I was hard at the sight of him. It must have been the potion vapors increasing my excitement in order to complete the ritual. Keeping his gaze fixed on the cauldron, he didn't look at me once. The last piece of clothing to fall to the floor was his pants. He had a nice cock, nothing obscene, but a good few inches at half-mast. I pushed the treacherous thoughts from my mind and focused on the task at hand. I needed to scare Potter's heterosexual prick into hiding, not seduce the damn thing.

I sat on one end of the couch and Potter sat nervously a few feet away on the other. That would never do. I edged closer to the seat cushion next to him and began playing with my erection.

"There's nothing in the spell description that says we can't watch each other," I said in a low and sultry voice.

Potter looked over at me in utter confusion. His eyes lingered on mine and then drifted down my body.

"Like what you see?"

"Let's just finish this as quickly as possible," he said, obviously trying to sound professional. He took his prick in hand and roughly stroked it.

The man had no finesse. He still wanked like a fourteen year old. Carefully I placed a hand on his knee. His hand stilled. "Perhaps we could help each other speed the process along," I said in my best seduce and conquer voice. "Touching isn't prohibited either."

"Please, Malfoy, knock it off and let's get this over with." He started stroking again, faster.

He didn't even try to remove my hand. In fact, he was growing harder by the second. The situation called for emergency maneuvers. Slowly, I inched my hand upward. I expected him to pick up his wand. I expected him to yell at me. I expected him to jump from the sofa. What I didn't expect was for him to moan, "Oh, God," and for his hand to move faster.

"You're getting off on this!"

"It's the spell," he murmured between heavy breaths.

"Like hell." I pushed him onto his back and straddled his thighs. He looked shocked, but not in the least bit repulsed. Leaning forward, I lined up our cocks, and oh fuck it was perfect. He moaned and writhed under me as I rubbed against him.

"You're a fucking poof."

"So?" he grunted. "So are you."

Bollocks. It was too late. I was well on my way to one hell of an orgasm with Harry fucking Potter. Literally. Simply rocking against his body was far more intense than any fuck I'd had with some wizard I barely knew. When he reached around and grabbed my arse, I was done for. I came hard. Instead of my come landing on his stomach, it rose into the air, floated over us, and fell into the cauldron. Now there was something you didn't see everyday.

Potter pushed me off and started to wank furiously. I had no idea how to stop him. Not that it mattered, since I didn't have one iota of energy to do anything about it. He came with a loud moan, and his semen joined mine in the potion. With an exhausted smile, he looked at me, and we said the final words of the spell together.

"Domus securus!"

The cauldron erupted sending sparks, vapor, and globs of potion into the air. The potion spread over to the ceiling and walls. As it seeped in, the walls began to glow. The glow spread throughout the room. I could only assume that it was spreading through the entire Manor. Potter and I sat back on the sofa with our limp pricks. I couldn't have moved if a pack of Centaurs had galloped through the door. Five minutes later there was a rumbling from the walls, and then they stopped glowing. The spell was complete.

I picked up my wand from the floor and tested the wards. Ah, just like dear old dad's. Except— what was that strange presence I felt? Oh. Potter.

I looked over and Potter had his wand out and was pushing against the wards as well.

"Can you feel me?" he asked.

I nodded.

Potter staggered over to his clothes and dressed. I stretched out on the sofa and studied his body as it slid into its coverings.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?"

"Later. I'm too tired to move right now."

"Oh. Well, I guess I'll be going."

"Sure," I had no idea what else to say.

"I'll be able to feel if anyone tries to break through the wards. I'll come straight away."

"Fine."

"Um, I'll just collect my things. Goodbye then." He Disapparated.

About two minutes later I felt a tingle from the wards, which must have been Potter Apparating home. What a strange fucking day. I couldn't stop replaying the ritual with Potter over and over in my mind – the feel of his skin against mine, the look of his face as he came with his head thrown back, mouth open and panting, and his eyes squeezed shut. It was disconcerting to say the least. At least the wards were up.


Posted in 2 parts due to size. Go to Part 2---->