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What they had was new, it was tentative, it was soft, it was barely beginning, but it was blossoming into something that Harry knew would mean everything to him. It was there in the soft expressions, the teasing smiles, the way his breath would catch when he caught Draco looking at him. The words hadn’t come, but he didn’t need them yet, not when the actions and the expressions did all the talking for them. There would be time for words later, when the impact would matter, but for now he was happy with where they were at.
Harry was happy.
Happy.
What he wasn’t happy with was his Patronus.
“Erm, sir, is it supposed to be doing that?”
Harry closed his eyes, trying to pretend that he couldn’t feel the heat crawling up his neck or the bright flush he knew he was sporting as his Patronus flew around the room desperately looking for something that wasn’t there.
Or rather someone
After the war when he had time to properly grieve for Hedwig, his Patronus had morphed into something new. The stag was no more and in its place was a beautiful owl that never failed to fill his heart with warmth and a hint of longing.
Outside of sending messages, Harry hadn’t known a Patronus to make sounds, but his certainly did as it flew around the room with a low distressed hoot.
“I’m so sorry,” Harry said, grimacing when the couple he was supposed to be coming to an agreement with looked at him in doubt. “My Patronus performs well under pressure. On the extraction day everything will go as planned.”
He wasn’t even sure if it was a lie or not.
Harry was a contractor for the Ministry. After the war, the Dementors had become a problem that the Ministry could no longer ignore. As someone with an unwavering Patronus and was highly skilled at keeping Dementors at bay, he was their first stop. He had been hesitant at first, not trusting the Ministry at all. He knew that would never change, he’d never be able to trust them. But he could take their money.
What had started as a trial run turned into years of success.
Harry had mastered the Patronus spell, was skilled enough to cast one without a wand. Could handle swarms of Dementors solo, never needing backup. There was a level of understanding between his Patronus whenever he cast one—a deeper meaning each time. Every time he cast the spell it felt as if he was casting out bits and pieces of himself with it.
Which led him to his current problem.
His Patronus was missing Draco, desperately scanning the room looking for him before their feathers drooped and came to a standstill, refusing to move.
“I know buddy, I miss him too.”
Partially in embarrassment and partially because he knew that his Patronus wasn’t going to perform accurately, he dismissed the spell and tried to salvage the potential customer. It didn’t go as well as he had hoped. The one time he wouldn’t have minded relying on his namesake was one of the few times that they didn’t give a fuck who he was. They were relying on his skill and his skill was… well… distracted.
They had settled on a redo appointment. He’d come back in a week and show them what he could do. For a family with a Dementor infestation in their home, he rather thought they were being too picky. It wasn’t like there were any other Dementor experts they could ask for help from. He was groaning just thinking about having to explain to his Ministry liaison why he was having trouble performing the spell.
Needing a change of scenery he apparated to the one place he knew could always lift his spirit.
“—‘m saying you’re wrong we just need to—Merlin Harry don’t do that!”
“Wotcher.”
Fred and George stared at him with varying degrees of amusement as he settled into a chair near the center of their planning table. The shop had done well enough that they were able to take a step back from managing the store and resigning themselves to product planners. When bored, Harry helped from time to time.
“Didn’t you have an appointment?”
“What has your brilliant minds come up with today?” Harry asked, pointedly ignoring George’s question and Fred’s arched brows.
“Flattery only gets you in my pants, not company secrets.”
“I think being a partial owner means I’m entitled to company secrets.”
“Shot down there Freddie, let your heart heal and try again tomorrow.”
Fred narrowed his eyes as he placed his cheek on his hand. “I’m more interested in why Harrykins is trying to avoid talking about work.”
“I’m having performance issues is all.”
George snorted, waving away Harry’s stinging hex. “Sorry. I guess you just learn something new about your friends everyday.”
Not rising to the bait, Harry picked up discarded bits of parchment in an attempt to distract himself with their new product ideas while the twins began loudly whispering their assumptions.
“—aybe they turned him down.”
“He is rather expensive. I’d look twice at the bill.”
“Having a bill at least means you’re alive.”
“You don’t think I could tackle an infestation? I’m hurt George, really hurt.”
“One, maybe two. But a whole infestation? You’re better of calling Harry.”
“Why call him if they turned him down? Clearly they know something that we don’t.”
“Still—”
He would have said something scathing but the arrival of a Patronus had their attention as silence settled in the room. The bunny that hopped around before launching toward him had him scowling. It wasn’t supposed to be a bunny. It was supposed to be dove. It was supposed to be Draco’s Patronus that was reaching out to him, and not the temporary fill in for his boyfriend.
“I have been briefed by the Stevenson's. Send your recounting of the appointment before the day is through.”
Fred frowned as the bunny hopped a few times before disappearing. “That’s not Malfoy.”
“No,” Harry agreed, staring at the space the bunny had vanished from. “He’s on loan for the Australian Ministry as they are opening their own department to handle the Dementors there.”
“How long has he been gone?”
It took everything he had in him to not let his bitterness seep through as he said, “A week.”
There was a long silence that had him uncomfortably shifting in his seat as he refused to look at them, not wanting to give anything away.
“And how long will he be gone?”
“Another two weeks.”
A second but longer silence.
Harry braced himself as he looked at them out of the corner of his eyes, and grimaced at the arched brows and pointed expressions they traded to each other. People underestimated the Weasley twins, assumed that their obsession with pranks meant that they lacked intelligence, but no one really ever bothered to understand that it took intelligence to pull off the pranks. It took a keen intellect to come up with the products that they had and the absolute skill it would require to make them come to fruition.
Fred and George Weasley were brilliant, geniuses even, and they were staring at him as if they knew all of his dirty secrets. And to be fair, they did know most of them. All of them.
Well, except for one.
“Have you considered—”
“George, we said we wouldn’t.”
“But it’s so painfully obvious.”
“Leave Harry and his confused sexuality alone.”
“I’m not confused.”
They continued to talk about him as if he wasn’t there. Which suited him just fine. The more they talked amongst themselves the less attention that was on him. While they were distracted, Harry cast his Patronus in an attempt to respond to the temporary liaison, but groaned when his owl began circling the room.
“Erm, Harry?”
The owl let out distressed hoots that tore at his heart strings. The sound was bone chilling and so mournful that he wanted to reach out and soothe the Patronus. He held out his arm and the owl flew closer to him, but not enough that he could reach out. There was a lot that he wanted to say, but not with an audience. With no other choice, he dismissed the spell.
“Harry—”
“I think I’ll go home early,” Harry said, standing up so quickly that his chair scraped across the floor. “Have a report to write after all.”
He had almost made it to the door when a soft, “Are you alright?” had him turning enough to nod.
“I will be.”
In two week’s time that is.
It was a long week. He had thought that getting through the first one would be fine, and it had been when Draco had the time to Floo him. But as the second week came to a close, the busier Draco was trying to get as much work as he could in time for their deadline.
Harry hated it.
It was the first time since they got together that they had any time apart. They didn’t spend every night together, but they spent the majority of their time in each other’s company, and he could admit that it was hard on him. He missed Draco’s familiar warmth and teasing jibes. Even work wasn’t half as fun without him.
The temporary liaison was decent at their job, but they weren’t Draco. It was strictly business, no room for even a half arsed polite tone, and there definitely were no jokes allowed.
Harry groaned from his position on the floor. He was entirely gone on Draco and he hated it. He used to love being alone. Loved nothing more than to come home from work, strip to nothing but his pants and watch the telly until he fell asleep. Only now that he knew what life was like with Draco, he didn’t want to be alone.
He wanted Draco.
“I’m so pathetic.”
If Draco was there he’d have agreed.
It didn’t matter how many times he tried to cast a Patronus over the next few days, it didn’t work properly. The owl would scan the room and refuse to move once they realized that Draco wasn’t there. Sometimes, the spell failed from the beginning as his mind was filled with the nostalgia of a thirteen year old who could only form little wisps and nothing else.
He was midweek when he thought his luck had turned around.
The sound of his Floo going off was the only warning he had before the fireplace lit up and a head appeared.
“Harry?”
Draco.
Warmth filled him as he moved closer until he was crouching on the floor.
“Draco.”
“I don’t have long, only just a few minutes—”
“That’s okay,” Harry promised, wishing that he could get closer, wishing that they were touching, that he could cup a pale cheek and snog the life out of him.
Draco’s head tilted minutely as he regarded Harry carefully and that had him sitting up straighter not sure what—
“Ailene says that you have rescheduled all of your appointments until later in the month.”
“Maybe.”
“Why? Some of those were emergency calls.”
It was hard to fight the guilt that was slowly bubbling up, but there was nothing to be done about it. It wasn’t like he wanted to cancel.
“Something came up.”
A searching look before Draco narrowed his eyes. “You might be able to lie to your friends, but you can’t lie to me.”
“It’s personal.”
“My tongue has been up your arse, that’s far more personal than whatever shite you’re trying to pass off as the truth.”
With a huff, Harry sat back and refused to look at the fireplace. He was trying to find the right words when Draco spoke again—whether a better lie or a half truth, he wasn’t sure.
“What’s going on Harry? Do I need to come back early?”
He wanted to say yes, considered being selfish but knew that he couldn’t. Draco being the one chosen was proof of his hard work and Harry couldn’t ruin that, wouldn’t ruin that.
“I miss you.”
It was breathy and whispered. Part of him—the embarrassed part that hated being seen—hoped that Draco hadn’t heard it, but luck had never been on his side.
“I miss you too, love.”
The endearment had his eyes closing and he couldn’t stop the stinging in his eyes as shame began to fight the guilt. It had only been two weeks. Two fucking weeks and he was struggling. That had to be a bad sign. If he was this attached, then clearly—
“Hey, whatever moronic thing you’re thinking about, forget it.”
Harry shakily laughed, opening his eyes to stare into the fire. Draco always could read him easily, even when they hated each other.
“I can’t cast a Patronus.”
Draco’s brows arched. “Pardon?”
He bit his lip as he looked away, knowing that his admission was akin to admitting his feelings. “My Patronus keeps looking for you.”
A sucked in breath and a shaky whisper of his name had him glancing to see Draco’s gutted expression and it had him wary of why. Did Draco not feel the same way? Was it too soon for love? Was Harry taking the relationship seriously while Draco wasn’t?
“The spell won’t work anymore.”
The silence was deafening and it had him shifting nervously, wishing he could take the words back, wishing that he had gone out for the night and had missed the Floo call entirely.
“Harry.”
“I gotta go.”
“No—wait—”
He paused, waiting to hear what Draco had to say but all that was there was silence. It spoke far more than words could. Heart breaking a bit, Harry closed the call and pretended that he couldn’t hear the dozen or so calls after it.
Who needed a Patronus anyway?
Surrounding himself with people was supposed to have made him feel better but all it did was make him feel alienated. Chaos was everywhere as he sat at the Weasley table, watching others have fun while he barely participated in the many and fleeting conversations around him.
The twins tried to include him but it wasn’t really working. There were still another three days until Draco returned, only now he wasn’t really looking forward to it. It was going to be awkward, they would probably fight, or maybe there was nothing left to say, and Harry was going to have to watch Draco walk away for good.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, just peachy.”
He yelped when his chair was roughly pulled from the table. Before he could react, he let out a pained oomf as he was met with a lap full of Ron.
A strong grip to his chin before Ron was turning his head left and right repeatedly as his eyes narrowed. “Don’t really look peachy to me.”
He tried to shove him off but Ron placed his hands around Harry’s neck and placed a dramatic and sloppy kiss to his cheek.
“Piss off.”
“Not until you quit being so bloody miserable. It’s killing the atmosphere.”
Harry arched a brow, hoping that it was as elegant as when Draco did it. “Atmosphere, huh?”
“Nothing more serious than a one year old’s birthday.”
There were too many Weasley children. He couldn’t remember if it was for one of Bill’s or Percy’s kids.
“You can talk to me you know,” Ron said, pinching the back of Harry’s neck in some weird emphasis, as if the pain made it more serious. “Hermione says I’m far more mature and understanding now than when we were kids.”
“You were never mature or understanding.”
The pinch hurt more this time, and he tried to shove him off again but to no avail. The Auror training Ron went through added a fuck ton of muscle that Harry was struggling to fight.
“Not to mention she’s rather biased. As her husband she kind of has to lie to—ow—okay I’m sorry!”
He tried to dig a fist into Ron’s side but it was like he hadn’t even felt it. What in the world did the Aurors do to him?
“Hermione!” Fred yelled, watching them with a wide smirk. “Your husband looks one drink away from fucking Harry.”
“Ron always looks like that.”
Harry snorted as Ron frowned over his head in the direction of his wife.
“I’d like to think it would take at least two drinks,” Ron said, and okay, that was enough. Harry sent several stinging hexes at Ron before his friend yelped and jumped off him, glaring as he rubbed his sides before sitting in the chair next to him.
“That was unnecessary.”
Sometimes, saying nothing was for the better. He pretended that he couldn’t see the way Ron and the twins shared a look. Great. They had been talking about him.
“Harry—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“So there is something to talk about?” Ron said, knocking their shoulders together as he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Anything, Harry. You can talk to me about anything.”
They had been through a lot together. There was a time when he might not have believed Ron, where the words were flat and hollow. But he knew that they were true. Ron would listen to him, would hear him out. That was never the problem. The problem was the aftermath. What would happen afterward? What would happen if he was honest. Would he be judged? Would there be anger? He wasn’t sure his heart could take another rejection.
There was an open and earnest expression on Ron’s face as he said, “Hermione thought that you might have found someone.”
Harry nodded, words catching in his throat.
Ron searched his face. “Is it not going well?”
A slight whimper.
“I love him.”
It was the first time he had said the words out loud. It felt wrong to say them and it not be to Draco. Everything felt wrong.
The only indication that he might have surprised Ron was the way he parted his mouth. They had never openly discussed his sexuality, it wasn’t something that he had broadcasted but he had thought that his friends might have at least speculated on it.
“If it’s me you gotta give me at least a year to plan a divorce. They say it’s uncouth to have a wedding right after, so we’ll need at least another two years.”
Harry rolled his eyes, hitting Ron in the shoulder. “We wouldn’t be planning anything. Hermione will have killed us both.”
Despite the easier atmosphere, there was a hesitance in the way that Ron spoke to him and he didn’t like it.
“Did you have a fight?”
Harry shrugged. “I thought that we were headed somewhere, but I guess it was just me.” There was still a small part of him that was in denial. He knew that he meant something to Draco. Knew that Draco cared for him, but he wasn’t sure how deep it went. The thought of it being one sided nearly broke him.
“It’s affecting my work,” he admitted. “I can’t produce a functioning Patronus because all they want is him and it’s—.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” Ron frowned.
It was embarrassing to admit, and he was glad that the charm alerting them of a visitor had drowned out some of his words as he lowly said,
“My Patronus doesn’t do my bidding. No messages. No chasing away Dementors. It looks for him and that’s it.”
“How would a Patronus even know? That doesn’t make any sense. That’s not what they were designed for.”
Harry stood up to show him. With a silent spell a bright light filled the room as his owl flew out of his hands. There were small ooos and awws from some of the children as the owl flew.
“What is it doing?” Bill said, and it was horrifying to know that the entire family was about to find out how pathetic he was.
“Maybe it’s gone wonky somehow.”
“Patronus don’t go wonky.”
“Look at it—”
“It’s searching for someone,” Hermione said, moving until she was next to Ron before entwining their hands.
The despondent hoot still tore at his heart like before, but now it was worse. The volume was far too loud and it was filled with such anguish that it had Ron reaching for him despite their distance.
Harry waited for the owl to realize that Draco wasn’t there and was prepared to dispel the Patronus only—
A strange rumbling filled the air as the owl flew toward the ceiling before diving past Harry and as he turned to see what had grabbed it’s attention he stopped short, unable to breathe.
“Harry.”
Harry’s breath caught at the sight of Draco. His hair was windblown as if he had been running, his travel clothes were still on, but it was the uneasiness in Draco’s eyes that drew his attention.
The owl grew ecstatic, circling Draco repeatedly, diving between his arms and legs.
Draco gasped, hand covering his mouth as he locked eyes with Harry. There was a wetness to Draco’s eyes, and it had hope filling him the longer they stood there. If Draco was here then did that mean that—
“Harry.” Draco took a hesitant step forward, as if worried Harry would move away. “My silence wasn’t rejection.”
He wanted to move forward, wanted to reach out, but the hurt that he had felt for days was still there. “But—”
“I—Harry—” Draco’s eyes closed, head shaking as words failed him before he pulled out his wand and performed a silent Patronus—the dove that he had been missing flew outward before launching toward Harry. There were no sounds, but the the enthusiasm was there.
The dove circled him a dozen times before flying toward the owl and the two began a chase around the room.
“I love you,” Draco whispered, the back of his hand resting against his nose. “I love you so much that it scares me. I think of us together, how my name would ruin you if it got out and you’d leave and that scares me too; the thought of losing you.
“I’m right here,” Harry said just as softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“But you did.” Draco clenched his fists. “You didn’t let me think. You wouldn’t answer my calls. I thought that—I was worried it was the end. It couldn’t be. I couldn’t even think. I took the next international portkey to make sure you know that I love you. I do. I really do.”
“I love you too,” Harry said, voice cracking. “I miss you. Nothing is the same without you there. You invaded so much of my life and I was gutted thinking that it was one-sided.”
The whiplash of his emotions was staggering, but all he could focus on was that Draco was here, he was actually here. Unable to restrain himself, Harry dashed forward until he threw himself at Draco, arms cradling behind his neck.
“Not one-sided,” Draco promised, squeezing Harry so harshly that he wheezed. “I’ve been a wreck without you.”
“Your hair shows it.”
A pause.
“I hate you.”
The tight grip and lips to the top of his head suggested otherwise and it didn’t matter what anyone said, being with Draco felt like coming home. This was it for him. It was everything.
Draco rubbed their noses together before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips before capturing them in a soft kiss. It was gentle in a way that their lives weren’t and it made his heart flutter before the kiss deepened and their lips moved over and over.
The sound of cheering separated them. Harry laughed a little as he turned his head to see the varied reactions. Molly was clapping, the twins were cheering, but it was the warm smile on Ron and Hermione’s faces that soothed him.
“I told my mother.”
Harry jerked, head swiveling to Draco to blink rapidly.
A grimace. “It could have gone better, but I think she’ll come around.”
“And your father?”
A shrug. “Not much he can do from Azkaban.”
“Unless he gets out early on parole.”
Draco snorted. “His solicitor is good, but not that good.”
Unable to resist, Harry did what he had been wanting to during all of their Floo calls. He cupped Draco’s cheeks, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The reply that had been on the tip of his tongue evaporated when the bright light of their Patroni nearly blinded him. The owl was on the right side of their faces and the dove was on the left, sandwiching them in the middle.
“Think they’re trying to tell us something?” Draco asked, eyes crinkled and lips curved softly.
“Nothing we didn’t already know.”
This time when they kissed they didn’t stop.
The Stevenson’s were just as unimpressed with him as they had been last time, but Harry wasn’t worried. Not because Draco was there as a witness either. No, there was an understanding between him and his Patronus and it filled him with a confidence he had been chasing his whole life.
This time, when he cast the spell the entire room was filled with a bright white light and one of the Stevenson’s screamed. The owl was larger than before and filled with so much warmth that he knew he could chase away a dozen Dementor infestations with ease and not break a sweat.
The brightness never faded, he could barely make out the Stevenson’s but it didn’t matter, not when the outcome was an awed,
“You’re hired.”
—Fin