Second Place - Action/Adventure

Draco Malfoy was not happy. Even though he reclined in the deck chair with his boot clad feet resting on the edge of the split-log porch railing, Brian could see that there was not a single point of relaxation in his body. His eyes were pinched and his lips pursed in a thin, unforgiving line. Even his hands weren't immune as they clutched a piece of parchment, a letter obviously. Moving cautiously, Brian sprawled into the chair next to Draco's and took a long draw of his very cold, very American beer as he scanned the horizon. The sunset was brilliant. Too bad the "letter" cast such a long shadow over what should have been an idyllic moment for them.

"How can you drink that piss?" Draco mumbled as he looked over, his eyes losing their pinched, scowling quality for a moment as they roamed appreciatively over Brian's body.

Brian smiled. "To each his own, Draco." He took another draw as Draco turned away and continued staring at nothing. "What's that?" Brian asked, lightly toeing the letter clutched in Draco's hand.

Draco tsked, his scowl returning. "Nothing. A letter from Severus. Seems he's caught his big bad wizard book seller."

Brian frowned. It had been three months since the assignment in L.A. During that time, he and Draco had gotten closer and had moved to the ranch. Draco had immediately taken over the business end of things at the ranch while Brian was happy to herd cattle, ride horses, and mend the proverbial fences. There were moments�long stretches of time really�when they were absurdly happy. But then Draco would receive a letter from Severus and their moment would disappear. Brian was afraid that keeping ledgers of cattle sales, negotiating feed prices, riding horses, and enjoying evenings on the porch just weren't enough for the fickle Draco Malfoy.

"So, you ever going to tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, or do I get to guess?" Brian said, finally tired of waiting for Draco to come out and tell him what was bothering him.

Draco's head whipped around, his eyes wide. "What?"

Brian nodded to the letter. "You've been unhappy, I can tell. You get royally pissed when you get one of those letters." Brian sighed. "If you're not happy, Draco . . ."

"What? You stupid prat, I'm happier than I've ever been. What's gotten into you?"

"Funny, you have an odd way of showing it," Brian said, all traces of his trademark lazy grin gone.

Draco blinked and then looked down. "Sorry, Brian. I really am happy, and that's the problem."

"What?" Brian blurted, nearly spitting out his beer.

"No�it's not like that�let me explain."

"Fine," Brian said tightly, wondering what in the hell Draco was going to say.

"I'm happy and I want everyone else to be happy. Don't you see?"

"Uh, no, Draco, can't say that I do," Brian said slowly.

Draco waved the letter in Brian's face testily. "This. Don't you see?"

Brian shook his head.

Draco sighed. "He goes on and on about catching the evil bookselling bloke but there's not one word in here about Harry. Not one!"

Brian hesitated before taking another drink. He really didn't want to get into a conversation about Harry and Severus. He liked them fine, but he didn't like Draco's obsession with Harry. Brian had realized he was in love with Draco and he didn't share. With anyone. Especially with a past lover who was reputed to be the most powerful wizard in the world. "What's the problem?" Brian asked neutrally.

"What's the problem?" Draco repeated incredulously, "The problem is that these two stupid prats are driving me crazy! They belong together, even they�thick as they are�finally figured that out, and what do they do? Huh? What do they do?"

Brian shook his head. He had no idea what the right answer was.

"Nothing!"

"Nothing," Brian repeated slowly.

"Yes, that's right. Nothing!"

Brian took a deep breath, feeling a headache coming on. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Okay. And you're involved in this how, exactly?"

"I'm not," Draco said with a familiar gleam in his eye, "but, I'm about to be."

Brian swore under his breath, knowing from experience already that it was easier to go along with Draco than fight. "What are you going to do?"

Draco stood and plopped himself on Brian's lap, leaning in for a thorough kiss. After several long minutes, Draco finally leaned back. He smirked at Brian's dazed expression. He had him right where he wanted him. "It's not what I'm going to do, my love, it's what we're going to do."

Brian's eyes narrowed. "Draco," Brian said slowly, "What in Hades are you up to?"

"I just think it's time we put our abilities to good use. Call it, Operation �Harry loves Severus.'"

"Draco," Brian whined in a way that clearly said �you've lost your mind and I'm not letting you take me with you.'

Draco blinked innocently before leaning in for another kiss.

Brian stopped him. "I don't need more of that kind of convincing, Draco. Just tell me what it is you want to do."

"Help them. They're our friends and they obviously need our help."

Brian refrained from pointing out that Harry and Severus weren't his friends, not really. He hardly knew them. Instead, he just nodded and asked again how exactly Draco planned on accomplishing the "mission."

Draco smiled sweetly. "How are your trans-Atlantic Apparition skills?"

The smiling people in the frame were becoming annoyed. Harry could see their smiles faltering every time he jostled the picture frame to the left, then to the right, then back to center. Even his own teenage sheepish grin was now tight, his once soft eyes now glaring.

"Okay, okay. Cut me some slack," Harry muttered under this breath in an effort to appease the photograph as he plucked it from one of the deep shelves lining his living room.

In a fit of exasperation, he flopped into his chair. He wondered for the hundredth time what had possessed him to do this. �Oh yeah,' the snarky little voice in his head reminded him, �Severus.' And, to some extent, that was true. That was what had started this ridiculous "healing process." Harry knew he was fucked up. For years he'd nearly reveled in it. But now, he found that being profoundly "fucked up" was getting in the way of what he'd always wanted. Love. Peace. Happiness. Such simple, sappy dreams.

Harry stared hard at the picture and stroked Hermione's bushy hair with his index finger while smiling sadly at the twins' antics. It had been taken during the last Christmas he would share with them. Arthur Weasley died the following February during a Ministry raid. His wife and oldest sons followed him not a month after that defending Hogsmeade. Hermione and Ron were lost that summer, only weeks before Harry had finally fulfilled his destiny.

Harry turned over the photograph and closed his eyes for a moment as he thought about the last three months. Thoughts of Severus flooded him and he wished, not for the first time, that he knew how Severus was. What he was doing. What he was feeling. He'd felt nothing from Severus since L.A. It was almost as if their weird little bond was blocked with something. Neither had Severus sent letters, not that Harry had expected he would. It was just that . . . well, things were different now between them, Harry thought. Harry hoped.

Harry pushed those thoughts away. He could only deal with one emotional crisis at a time. His eyes snapped open and his gaze landed on a haphazard pile of Muggle and Wizarding books on grief, healing, and emotional health. He'd read them all, scowling the entire time at the preposterous amounts of �touchy-feely' shit they spewed. Nevertheless, he was sincere in his endeavor and had even, albeit reluctantly, followed their advice in a fashion. He'd journaled his feelings; he'd mourned. He snorted, recalling the first entry in his journal. �My life is fucked and I cannot believe I'm even attempting to write this fucking shit down. The world can fuck itself. Respectfully submitted, H.J.P.'. Fortunately, it had gone slightly better from there.

Harry's gaze returned to the picture. Ron was smiling brilliantly. Harry had finally visited the Weasley graves several weeks prior. He'd gone alone. Draco would be furious when he found out. He'd made Harry promise he wouldn't do that after Harry, drunk and brooding, had attempted to go alone with the intent of joining them. Harry sighed. He'd have to tell Draco eventually. But he hoped that day would be a long time in coming.

Harry sighed and looked back at the empty shelves silently mocking him. He took a deep breath. It was time. As painful as it was, he found he didn't want to forget the happiness he'd locked away in that old trunk under his bed. He deserved this. His friends, his family, deserved this. One picture at a time. With determination he stood and strode to the shelf just to the left of the fireplace. He sneered at the mocking shelf in challenge as he planted the frame in the middle with a satisfying "plonk." He quickly stood back before his hands could reach out once again to take it down.

He stood there for several moments longer before turning and heading to the kitchen to dig through his left over take-away in the refrigerator. He stopped, though, when he felt someone trying to breach his wards. With a quick wave of his hand, his door became transparent. He smirked at the sight of Draco and Brian trying to work around his wards. There was a way to do it and if anyone could figure it out, it was Draco.

Harry spied his books again and shuddered. "Best not to let the ferret see these," he said to himself as he scooped them up and shoved them into one of his many empty kitchen cabinets.

"Damn it, Harry," Draco swore as he frowned. He waved his wand across Harry's door once more, trying to get a feel for the wards.

"Uh, Draco. These are really strong wards. I mean, like REALLY strong. Shouldn't we just take the hint? The kid clearly doesn't want any visitors," Brian said as his eyes darted between the heavily warded door and the empty hallway.

"Shush," Draco admonished. "Come on, Potter," Draco muttered under his breath as he continued to examine the wards for the proverbial �back door,' "I know there's a trick in here�that's your style isn't it, you little Gryffindor whore?"

"Draco, it's been fifteen minutes. What's wrong with knocking on the door?" Brian said flatly.

Draco turned, a look of surprise on his face. "You really think it's that easy? Go on, then. Try. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Brian eyed Draco speculatively before raising his hand to knock on the door. As soon as he got within an inch of the door's surface, though, the wards zapped him with something that felt vaguely like a mild electric shock.

"Fuck!" Brian howled as he leapt backwards.

Draco laughed lightly, unaware that Harry was chuckling as well. "Told you," Draco said as he returned to studying the wards.

"What the fuck is wrong with this kid?" Brian hissed. "Who has doors that attack people?"

"Harry does," Draco said simply. "And, I did warn you, you know."

"Don't you think," Brian said through clenched teeth, "that the fact his door attacks people is a good indication he's not up to receiving visitors?"

"Oh, that's just to keep out the strangers," Draco said nonchalantly.

"Who the fuck are you crazy bastards?" Brian asked under his breath, scared for the first time about what he'd find if, and when, they made it into Harry Potter's apartment.

"Ah ha!" Draco crowed, finally having found what he was looking for. A quick wave and a muttered incantation later and the wards dropped and the door clicked open. "Knew there was a back door," Draco said over his shoulder as he barged into Harry's flat.

Brian shook his head and followed him in.

Not surprisingly, Harry was standing in the middle of his small living room, smirking at the two.

"You look like shit, Potter," Draco said as he closed the door and rewarded it.

"Why it's lovely to see you too, Malfoy. And, you too, Brian. Welcome to my little flat."

Brian walked around noticing that the apartment was mostly empty. It was incredibly small and, frankly, nothing like he expected from the great Wizarding savior. He turned at Draco's tsking and almost laughed out loud. Draco was holding Harry at arm's length, muttering about overly large clothes and trying to smooth his hair down while Harry ducked and batted Draco away.

"Stay still, Potter! I leave for three months and you revert to this? I thought you'd finally learned something. You're too thin. Too pale. What have you been doing?"

"Stop it, Draco. I'm not some fucking doll you can dress and make-up to suit your whims. I'm fine the way I am. Put that goddamned comb away!"

"Not on your life, you little Gryffindor whore. I will not be subjected to your dishevelment while I'm here."

"I didn't invite you, you know."

"I have a standing invitation, you know it. Now, stay still!"

Brian did laugh then. He suddenly got it. Watching the two of them was like watching two siblings squabble. Draco clearly enjoyed being the "older brother," and as much as Harry protested, Brian could see that he was genuinely fond of Draco. Brian smiled, feeling infinitely more relaxed. Though it was a bit difficult to get worked up by a past lover who was currently trying to escape his comb wielding ex.

"Fine," Draco said in disgust at being unable to tame Harry's hair. "You better have something edible in that cold box, Potter. We're staying for dinner," Draco announced as he stalked off towards the kitchen.

Harry shuddered and motioned for Brian to join him. "He's about to go ballistic. Best to stay out of the way," Harry whispered loudly.

No sooner had Brian joined Harry's side than Draco stormed out of the kitchen holding what looked like a precarious stack of white, Styrofoam take-away boxes. "Anything in this pile edible?" Draco said tightly.

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. With a rather negligent wave of his hand towards the fireplace, Harry said, "I'm not in the mood, Draco. Just go ahead and call your house elf in Nice."

"Fine." Draco turned to Brian. "Vanish these, will you?" he said as the dropped the boxes from his hands.

Brian scrambled for his wand and cast "Evanesca" just before the boxes hit the floor.

Draco bent down and started an emphatic conversation with his house elf.

Brian, feeling a bit bewildered, turned to Harry. "Is he always like this?"

"Err, no. I mean, he's this way with me, but not other people. Not you, I'm sure. Not that he's, you know, obsessed with my eating habits and hair or anything. We've just known�he just--"

"He likes looking after you. And, you're not so adverse?" Brian said bluntly.

Harry's face flushed a bit. "Uh, yeah. That about sums it up."

Brian nodded, but continued to stare at Harry, hoping to get him to babble a bit more. It was quite entertaining watching him trip over his words. Alas, it was not to be.

Harry chuckled. "If you have a question, Brian, go ahead and ask."

Brian's lazy grin finally made an appearance as he shook his head. "Caught me. Just trying to figure you out, Potter."

"Hmm. That's me as well, then." Before Brian could comment, Harry changed the subject. "I think it's great that the two of you are together, you know. Draco really needs you. I'd even go so far as to say that he probably loves you. Just remember, the snarkier he is, the more he cares about you."

"He and Severus seem to have that in common," Brian said, remembering why they were there in the first place.

Harry's expression faltered a bit. Brian noticed that his hand flew up and touched a spot on his chest, near his heart. "Yes, I suppose they do," Harry eventually murmured.

Draco stood and immediately stiffened. Harry's gaze followed Draco's line of sight. He swore under his breath. Draco had noticed the picture. Draco took a few steps closer and stared at the picture before turning and staring at Harry. Harry braced himself for whatever Draco was about to do or say. He was surprised when Draco's gaze shifted to Harry's chair. Pulling a scrap of parchment from his pocket, Draco quickly transfigured it into a chair that matched and sat elegantly. Harry blinked, startled by this reaction. Brian's gaze darted back and forth between the two wondering what in the hell was going on. What was so important about a picture?

Harry sighed, and gestured towards the other chair to Brian while he curled up in his window seat. "What brings you here, Draco?" Harry asked.

Draco looked up and shifted in his seat. "Just checking up on you."

Harry's eyes narrowed into familiar snake-like slits. "Bollocks," he spat. Draco Malfoy never visited without a reason and the fact that Brian was there was a good indication that he wasn't sniffing around for a quick fuck.

"It can wait until dinner," Draco said distractedly, his eyes drifting towards the picture.

Brian sat back and watched the scene unfold. The social temperature in the room had dropped from pleasantly warm to icy the minute Draco saw that photograph. And now Draco wasn't advancing "Operation Harry Loves Severus." Further, it was obvious that Harry had noticed the shift change and knew exactly what caused it, if his stilted posture and closed body language were anything to go by. What the fuck was going on? What was Brian missing? He was about to say something�anything�to break the tension, but Harry beat him to it.

"So, how have the two of you been? I understand you both retired from the spy life."

It was a good opening gambit. Draco's body relaxed and he actually smiled. "Yes, we have," Draco said. "Did you know that Brian is a wealthy land baron?"

"I own a ranch, Draco. I'm not a land baron," Brian said.

"Well it's a very large one," Draco said in response. "We have�what are those things called, Brian? The animals?"

"Cows," Brian said flatly.

"Ah, yes! We have cows. They fetch quite a good price. Though, the estate's finances were in ruins before I got a hold of them. Brian chases after the cows all day on his�what is the name of that thing you ride all day?"

"It's a ranch, Draco, not an estate," Brian clarified again before adding, "A horse, I ride a horse."

"I know that," Draco snapped, "but it's a special kind of horse. A palmetto, palolino, pal�what is it Brian?"

Brian sighed. "A Palomino."

"Yes, of course! I have a matching one, you know. We often go riding�wearing our hats and leather chaps."

"Yes, you should see our boy Draco in his cowboy hat�quite a sight," Brian said fondly.

Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "I can only imagine. I recall he was quite fond of seeing your, err, cowboy hat, Brian."

Brian was befuddled for a moment before smiling broadly. "I'd forgotten about that."

"Oh, and we have scores of servants," Draco interrupted.

Brian rolled his eyes. "Employees, Draco. We've been over this. They work for us, we pay them, they have dental plans."

Draco sniffed. "What's the difference?"

Brian sighed while Harry laughed out loud. It was a wonderful sound and Brian watched as Draco relaxed even more. He was clearly worried about his friend, but Brian had yet to figure out why.

Just then, Draco's house elf came through the floo. Within a few minutes, Harry's refrigerator was fully stocked with casseroles, meat pies, roasts, chickens, fruit, vegetables and juices of all kinds.

It was in that moment that Harry realized this was real. It wasn't just he and Draco playing around before taking things to the bedroom. He had guests�his friend and his friend's lover. Harry's smile faltered, realizing what a terrible host he was. It wasn't often that guests had to transfigure their own seating. "Err, I don't have plates and things," he said slowly. "I don't even have a table, so . . ."

Draco sighed. "You don't think I know that? Honestly, Potter," he said as he stood and walked towards the kitchen. "I'm giving you my house wares from the ch�teaux in Nice. Merlin knows you need them."

Draco moved to open the cabinet and Harry shot to his feet. "Don't open that," he blurted, but was too late.

Draco's mouth fell open at the sight of all of the books in the cabinet.

Again, Harry braced himself for the inevitable explosion. Instead, Draco's eyes scanned the books for a few seconds more before he slammed the cabinet closed and turned away, clearly shaken.

"What?" Brian asked. "You okay Draco? What's in there?"

"Muggle cereal," Draco and Harry blurted at the same time, both exchanging wary glances of surprise.

The exchange was not lost on Brian who knew they were both lying through their teeth.

"Let's have dinner, shall we?" Draco said abruptly as he hastily transfigured a small table and chairs and levitated dinner to the table.

The meal was going well, Brian decided. They had wisely kept to small talk. He noticed Harry was quite good at avoiding questions and was even better at asking them. He'd kept Draco at bay for the better part of an hour, allowing him to go on and on about himself, Brian and Brian's "vast" land holdings. Brian had given up. A conversation lull finally rolled through and Brian asked what he thought was an innocuous question. "What have you been up to since the last assignment, Harry?"

Harry's silverware stilled. He didn't look up. "Oh, you know. Just a bit of reading and projects around here."

Brian looked around, bewildered. What could Harry have possibly done in this tiny, barely furnished apartment? "Huh," he said in response. "Go anywhere? Any travel?" he pressed.

Harry sighed. He may as well go ahead and say it. It would come out eventually, anyway. "Um, yeah. I�I took a short trip to the Burrow. My friends, the Weasleys, used to live there."

Draco's silverware clattered and fell to his plate. His face was contorted in fury and disbelief. "You did what?" he hissed.

"I went to the Burrow, Draco," Harry said with slightly more confidence, as he stared Draco in the eye.

"With whom?" Draco snapped.

Harry's confidence faltered a bit. He looked away. "By myself," he said softly.

Draco abruptly stood, knocking his chair over in the process. He was heaving and his face was red and mottled. He stared at Harry, who stared challengingly back.

"It's not a big deal, Draco," Harry said offhandedly.

"You promised me!" Draco hissed. "You fucking promised me!"

"I didn't go there to do that!" Harry screamed, standing and knocking over his own chair.

Brian was completely lost.

Draco stared a minute longer, his entire body vibrating with rage. Harry opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Draco turned on his heel and went to the kitchen. He made straight for the cabinet containing Harry's books.

"Draco, don't do this," Harry pleaded.

Draco ignored him as he removed a number of the books and walked back to the table, throwing them down. "What the fuck is going on, Harry?"

"I don't know what you mean," Harry tried.

Draco growled. "Don't. Don't you dare! What is this shite?" he asked as he picked up several of the books and shook them at Harry for emphasis.

Harry bit his lip and looked down, hoping that the right answer would suddenly appear on the bare wood floors.

"Grief and the Modern Wizard, Loving Yourself, I Never Told: An Exploration into Sexual Abuse," Draco said as he started rattling off the titles. "What is this?" he asked again.

Harry had gone completely red, Brian noticed. And, knowing Draco as well as he did, his blonde paramour was not going to let this go. He was going to rake Harry over the coals, and Brian winced at the thought. Apparently what Draco had said was true, you just couldn't help but want to protect the kid. If he wasn't careful, he'd be the one wielding the comb next. "Grief and the Modern Wizard, did you say?" Brian asked.

Draco's head shot around as he glared at Brian incredulously. "That's a really good one. Really helped me when my parents passed a few years ago."

Harry looked up, a grateful smile on his face. "Really? You've, err, read these kinds of books?"

"Sure," Brian said with a wink. "Nothing wrong with a little helping hand while you figure things out."

Harry nodded.

Draco just stared at the two of them before snapping his jaw shut and shaking his head. He dropped the books on the table and turned back to Harry, his eyes narrowed. "Is this what the picture is about? Visiting the graves?"

Harry bit his lip and nodded.

"And I am to understand that when you visited the Weasley's graves you were not there in a drunken attempt to kill yourself?"

Brian's eyes went wide. Things were starting to make a bit more sense.

"No! Draco, I know I promised, but that was�I was�Everything was different then. I was different then," said Harry.

Draco smoothed his hair, righted his chair, and returned to his seat primly. "I see," he said. "What's so different now?"

Harry sighed, picked up his chair and returned to his seat. "I'm tired of being fucked up," he said softly. "I want to be the kind of person that can function in a normal relationship with someone�even if that someone is fucked up, too."

Draco processed all of this, gasped slightly, and beamed. Positively beamed. "You've been fixing yourself for Severus!" he crowed, delighted that his plan hadn't been derailed.

"No. I'm fixing myself for me, Draco," Harry said a bit tersely.

"Uh huh, and for Severus. Well, what are you waiting for? Call him. Send him a letter. Tell him to get his bony arse over here so you two can finally stop pussyfooting around!"

Harry sighed, knowing that what he was about to say could possibly bring "black-out rage Draco" to the forefront. "No," he said.

Draco's face darkened again, causing Brian to quickly dart to his side, having no desire to see Draco get so upset again so quickly. "No?" he asked incredulously.

"No," Harry said firmly. "Before you start, listen to me. I have flung myself at him far too many times. If he wants me, he's going to have to come to me. That's the only way this is going to work."

"And if he doesn't? Are you really willing to sacrifice everything because he wouldn't come to you first?"

"Yes," Harry said without hesitation and firmly enough that even Brian could tell he wasn't going to waver.

Draco opened his mouth to argue and Harry stopped him. "No, Draco," he said softly. "Listen, I know why you're here. And, I appreciate it. Honestly, I do. But, it's not going to work. You can't push us together. He's going to have to come to me, and it has got to be because he wants to. It's like that Muggle prophet Muhammad said�something about going to the mountain if the mountain wouldn't come to him. Well, I'm the mountain. I'm not moving. Not anymore."

Draco pursed his lips and scowled. "Fine," he said tightly. "Well, I guess that's it then."

"Yes."

"I suppose we should leave."

Harry drew in a deep breath. "Only if you want to. You're welcome to stay."

Draco smiled an evil little half-smile. "I don't think Brian's into that," he said coyly.

Harry immediately flushed and looked at Brian with a stricken expression. As he sputtered and stammered that he had, in fact, not been propositioning Draco, Brian jumped in with a soft laugh.

"Calm down, Harry. I know all about you two. I know what it was really about. And, thanks for taking care of Draco when he needed it. Before I could. That means a lot to both of us."

Harry's mouth snapped shut as his gaze darted between the two of them. "Uh, sure," he said, a bit bewildered.

Draco beamed at Brian, reminded again just how lucky he was. That, of course, firmed his resolve to bring his friends together. "Thanks for a lovely evening, Harry. We should be going," he said with uncharacteristic haste.

"Uh, sure," Harry said again as he led his guests to the door. "Stop by anytime," he said, meaning it.

Draco squeezed his shoulder. "You sure you're all right?"

Harry nodded and smiled. "Yeah."

Draco nodded as he dragged a bewildered Brian through the door.

As soon as the door closed, Brian asked, "What�

"Shush!" Draco admonished, impatiently pressing the lift key.

"Draco," Brian attempted again.

"I said shush! Not here."

The soft chime of the arriving lift interrupted and Brian found himself once again pulled by Draco. He'd decided these three were completely fucking cracked. It was the only thing that could explain this utterly bizarre behavior. Once the lift door opened again, Brian did a bit of dragging of his own. He quickly pulled Draco out of the building and around the corner. "What in Merlin's balls has gotten into you?" he hissed.

"Change of plan," Draco said smoothly.

Brian tried very hard to stay calm. He really, really did. "Okay. What's changed? Where are you dragging me now?"

Draco's gray eyes glittered in the flickering gaslight as he leaned in and kissed Brian soundly. "To the prophet, of course," he said before grabbing hold of Brian and Apparating them to New York.



Artificial Life - Chapter 15

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