- Hp Dong Nhan Eng Seven Years Too Late Chap 11

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After hours of lovemaking, with Harry's arm thrown over his shoulders holding him snugly against him, Draco slept deeply and soundly. Not even the strident ringing of the telephone penetrated that blissful, sated fog of exhaustion at first. Maybe it wouldn't have at all if Harry hadn't muttered something under his breath and pulled that warm, heavy, wonderfully shaped arm away from him.

Draco managed to pry open his eyes a fraction. Sunlight had replaced the bars of soft moonlight and the bedding was tangled around their legs. They were sharing one pillow; the other two had ended up on the floor somewhere along the way. The Slytherin could see them resting carelessly near the doorway.

"Phone's ringing," Harry intoned, his voice rusty with sleep.

"Why?" Draco closed his eyes again, turning towards Harry as the Gryffindor rolled onto his back and instinctively fitted himself against the dark haired wizard's side.

Harry's hand dropped onto Draco's shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing circles over it. "You'd have to answer it to know that."

"Mmm." Draco's foot slid over Harry's shin. His knee brushed the Gryffindor's hair-roughened thigh; so many textures, so many sensations. The blond had a lighter dusting of hair on his body, not as course as the Auror's and none at all on his chest, unlike Harry.

Harry gave a rough chuckle and tumbled Draco onto his back as he rolled over, reaching for his glasses on the nightstand and then lifting his head, looking around the bedroom. "Where's the phone?"

It was still ringing. "In the kitchen," Draco responded sleepily.

"Why isn't there one in here?"

Draco slid his hands around Harry's waist as the Gryffindor climbed over him. "Because I don't want it waking me up," he said pointedly. "Let it ring."

Harry dropped a kiss on the blond's forehead, and kept moving, right off the bed.

Draco shivered and dragged the quilt more closely around him as Harry walked, naked and bold as brass, out of his bedroom and down the hall. A second later, the Slytherin heard him answer the phone.

"Its 7 a.m.," Harry greeted the unknown caller. "It better be important."

Draco pressed his head into the pillow, cringing. Sensibility was slow in coming, but he knew that a strange man answering his phone was definitely going to cause some talk. He heard Harry's footsteps padding back along the hall and stop when he reached the bedroom.

"If that's Dee," Draco mumbled from the pillow he'd pressed to his face. "I'm going to kill her, after I hex her."

Harry didn't answer and Draco lowered the pillow. The Auror's dark brows were pulled down low over his eyes. He shouldn't have looked as fierce as he did considering he was standing there as naked as the day he was born, albeit far more grown than an innocent babe. And even though now was not the time, judging from the Gryffindor's black expression, to be wallowing breathlessly in the sheer masculine beauty of him, Draco couldn't help it.

"It's not Dee," Harry returned flatly.

Draco moistened his lips. "Who...?"

"Your knight errant."

"What?" Draco replied, confused.

"Brody Paine," Harry stated grumpily as he grabbed his underwear and pants and started pulling them on.

"He's probably calling about schoolwork for Megan," Draco told the Gryffindor hurriedly.

Harry's lips twisted. "Most people consider this a holiday weekend and the sun's barely up."

"You've got no reason to sound suspicious." Draco shoved back his blond bangs and slid off the bed, snatching up the first thing his hand came in contact with, which happened to be Harry's shirt.

Harry's gaze followed Draco's movements, fastening on the garment in his hands.

Draco's lips tightened and he dropped the shirt, grabbing his bathrobe that was on the chair instead.

He pulled it around his body, clutching it together at the waist and sailed past the irate Gryffindor. Worry was tightening the blond's stomach, which didn't make keeping up the front against the bespectacled Auror any easier. He hurried into his kitchen and snatched up the receiver where it was resting on the table. "Brody? This is Draco."

"Is he standing there listening?" Brody questioned from the other end of the line.

Draco didn't have to glance over his shoulder to know that Harry was standing in the doorway because he could practically feel the Auror's gaze boring a hole between his shoulder blades. "Sure," he answered the agent brightly.

"We've got a problem."

Draco's stomach tightened even more. "Oh?"

"Roberta, the agent who spelled me last night, has got some fricking bug. She's been puking all morning, even with the anti-nausea potions she's been downing. I've got something I need to see to and Megan needs someone to stay with her."

"I...well, I suppose I could," Draco waffled. "For how long?"

"Just today, I should be back tonight. If I'm not, we'll get more back-up here by then," Brody informed the blond.

"Could Megan come here?"

Brody sighed, sounding completely frustrated. "That's not exactly protocol."

As far as Draco had ever been able to determine, there really wasn't a strict protocol about much of anything where The Agency was concerned. What the real concern was, was safety; personal safety of the kids that came through their organization. The blond was just a very small cog in one small facet. "It'll be fine," the Slytherin answered, even though he really wasn't confident of any such thing.

He was concerned that Megan might slip on the cover story if they ran into anyone in town, and given the explosion of relatives around because of the holiday and the wedding, it was likely that Draco would be encountering someone. And he was definitely concerned that Harry was already suspicious where Brody was concerned. It was ridiculous, of course. The Auror had no reason to be suspicious.

'Except that Brody Paine isn't who you've said he is, and your involvement with him isn't coincidental at all. Draco swatted away the irksome truth of his thoughts.

Harry had been used to a certain level of excitement when it came to his work. 'He's looking for shadows that aren't there,' Draco tried to convince himself.

Draco heard Brody curse under his breath. "Fine. She can stay there, but keep it to yourself."

"Yeah. That'll work," Draco replied dryly. He was supposed to be driving around with Dee to pick up donations for a future upcoming holiday boutique the other teacher was planning. "Bring her when you're ready." Draco hung up the phone and turned to face Harry.

The Auror had pulled on his trousers, but hadn't fastened the button and they hung low on his hips, exposing the fine line of hair arrowing downward from his navel. His arms were crossed over his bare chest, and his biceps bulged.

It was distracting just to look at the Gryffindor. He might joke about feeling old, but in Draco's opinion, he looked hard, fit and impossibly perfect. "I'm going to mind Megan Paine for the rest of the day," the blond told him. "Her dad's in a bind."

"So he calls you," Harry intoned with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm probably one of the few people he knows around here, because of Megan's schoolwork," Draco dismissed. "Want coffee?" The blond headed toward the coffee maker sitting on the counter next to the stove.

What Harry wanted was an answer to the reason Draco kept avoiding his eyes, and he wanted to keep the Slytherin away from Brody Paine. Not only because he'd seen the way the guy looked at Draco, which the blond seemed completely oblivious to, but because the man was a complete unknown. Despite Harry's efforts to learn something, anything, about him, Brody Paine remained a total mystery.

Given the timing of his arrival in town and the reason for Harry even being there in the first place, it was a coincidence he didn't like. Brody Paine could easily be connected to the Death Eaters, even though the Gryffindor had yet to find proof.

"I don't like him," Harry told the blond.

Draco laughed, slightly high-pitched, as he filled the coffee filter, in his nervousness he hadn't even thought to make the coffee magically. "Brody? For Merlin's sake, Harry, I've told you. There's nothing between us."

"Keep it that way."

Draco pushed the filter in place and jabbed the power button with a little too much enthusiasm. His eyes were the color of a frozen over lake when they turned Harry's way. "Excuse me?"

Harry dropped his arms and moved next to the blond at the counter. Draco was no longer clutching his robe together at his chest and it had fallen open, revealing a wedge of smooth, satiny skin that had the blood warming the Gryffindor's veins. "There's something wrong where that guy is concerned and I want you to stay away from him," Harry demanded.

Draco shoved the canister holding the coffee grounds back against the others that matched it. "Are you that bored that you're conjuring up Death Eaters at every turn, or are you just afraid that he might try to get me into bed?" the blond responded scathingly.

"He'd be a damn fool if he tries that, and as it happens, I'm not bored."

Draco looked disbelieving. "You're telling me you're satisfied acting like some muggle cop? Stopping a speeder now and then and writing reports for fender benders in the shopping center's parking lot? Please, you thrived on the hunt, Potter. Before we know it, you'll be heading on, looking for something a lot more interesting than whatever Little Whinging's got to offer."

Getting into an argument wasn't going to solve anything, particularly when Draco was right about one thing, Harry did have plans to move on, whereas the blond was quite satisfied with his life here. "Trust me on this, Draco," Harry beseeched. "I'm asking you. Please, stay away from him."

Draco's lashes lowered and the high color of indignant anger in his cheeks slowly retreated. "I've already agreed to watch Megan for him. What's one afternoon? She's a sweet little girl who's lost everything that mattered to her."

"Except dear old dad," Harry scoffed.

"Except Brody," Draco agreed. The coffeemaker hissed softly between them. "I wouldn't turn my back on Eli," the blond pointed out after a moment. "I won't do that with Megan, either."

Harry scowled. "What's he got to do that's so important he can't take care of his own kid?"

"I have no idea." Draco pulled down two white mugs from the cupboard above his head and rested his palms over the tops of them, giving Harry a look. "You've left Eli alone with the babysitter and you've been here all night since we...since we..."

Harry circled the Slytherin's narrow wrist with his fingers and lifted his hand. Draco's fingers curled downward and the Gryffindor pressed his index finger over the blond's pulse, feeling the beat. "That's different. I let the babysitter know where I was."

"You don't know that it's different. You're just assuming that Brody doesn't have a perfectly valid reason for needing someone to watch Megan," Draco returned.

"Your pulse is racing," Harry breathed.

Draco moistened his lips, looking wry and pained at the same time. "Pardon me. I'm not so used to having a half naked Auror in my kitchen."

Harry lifted Draco's wrist until it was above the blond's head and slowly revolved the Slytherin around until he was facing him, his back pressed against the counter top. Draco's other arm was free and the sleeve of his robe was falling loosely off his shoulder. "You meant it then, that there hasn't been anyone?"

Draco bent that arm, crossing it over his chest and halting the descent of the fabric. "Did you mean it?" he questioned the Gryffindor in answer.

That he hadn't been with anyone since Ginny? Admitting it in the cold light of morning was a far sight more difficult than it had been in the dark, drugging warmth of Draco's inviting bed. "Yeah," Harry intoned softly.

Draco's lips softened from their harsh line and the ice-lake grey eyes thawed. "I'm sorry you and Eli had to go through losing her. Nobody should have to lose someone that's special to them."

"She knew about you," Harry admitted. "Ginny felt badly about everything. She told me that I needed to get in touch with you."

Draco was silent, absorbing that fact. The long line of his throat worked as he swallowed. "But you didn't."

"I couldn't," Harry corrected. He closed his fingers around the edge of Draco's robe that the blond was pretending to wear and slowly pulled on it. It began sliding downward between his bent arm and his chest. "Walking away once was all I could manage."

Draco's eyes hadn't merely thawed, they glimmered sheer and wet. "Don't tell me things you don't mean. I can take nearly anything but that."

"I mean every word," Harry vowed as he continued pulling the edge of the robe. Beneath the blond's arm, the pale skin of his chest was revealed. The Gryffindor kept up the pressure, slowly and inexorably drawing the fabric aside, until Draco's nipple, tight and raspberry sweet, peeked free above his forearm. "Now you. Did you mean it?"

The coffeepot behind Draco gurgled and sighed its last drops of brew and the Slytherin's gaze lifted to take in enticing green eyes. "I've occasionally dated...I...but we haven't..." The blond broke off, his cheeks flushing. "Theres only been you," he finished huskily.

It humbled the Gryffindor, he realized, hearing Draco confirm it. He slid his arm beneath the robe, circling the Slytherin's waist, fingers spreading over the gentle flare of hip. Harry lifted the smaller wizard and Draco gasped as the dark haired Auror settled him on the counter's edge.

Harry dropped his head, finding that taunting nipple with his lips and dragged the robe from the blond, tossing it away.

Draco let out a shuddering sigh, his fingers flexing, kneading against the Gryffindor's shoulders. Harry's hands slid along the blond's slightly muscular thighs, slipping between, nudging them apart, making room for himself.

"Harry, Merlin's beard...we're in my kitchen!"

"And I'm starving," Harry growled sexily. The skin of the Slytherin's inner thigh was the smoothest thing he'd ever felt in his life, the hair at the apex the softest, the rising flesh the sweetest.

Draco jerked when Harry touched his manhood and then moaned when the Auror dropped to his knees and tasted him there. His hands scrambled against the flat countertop, finding no purchase and knocked into the Gryffindor's shoulders then finally settled into his dark hair, holding the Auror to him. He moaned again, shuddering as Harry sucked on his throbbing organ, taking it so easily into his throat. He couldn't stop quivering as the Gryffindor quickened the pace of his bobbing head and then finally, too quickly, too slowly, he was convulsing as he let loose his seed into that wicked mouth.

Harry looked up at the blond. His lips, soft and rosy, parted as the Slytherin dragged in long breaths. His eyes still had tears in them, but they seemed to gleam with a deep blue flame. His white-blond hair was tickling at the back of his neck as Draco's head was bent back so that Harry could actually see his heart beating through the pale, delicate skin at his throat.

Draco's gaze tangled with the Gryffindor's, and watching the blond, never breaking that contact, Harry kissed the flat belly and felt it spasm beneath his lips. He began to rise, kissing his way upwards and when he kissed over the blond wizard's left pectoral muscle, he could feel the Slytherin's heartbeat pound against his lips. When Harry reached those lips, they were moving, chanting his name again and again. He would never get enough of this blond Adonis.

Harry pulled him off the counter and Draco's legs came around his hips as the Gryffindor turned to go to the bedroom. It was Saturday, he reasoned with the few remaining reasonable cells functioning in his brain. His son was taken care of by the babysitter. He wasn't on police duty because Tommy Sawyer had offered to take the shift. The guy always wanted extra shifts which fit in well for Harry's needs. He could spend the entire day making love to...

"The doorbells ringing," Draco muttered against his mouth before quickly snapping back to reality. "For Merlin's sake, they're already here!" The Slytherin was suddenly pushing against Harry, swinging his legs free.

Harry either had to let him go, or they'd both end up in a tangle on the hall floor. All he caught was a glimpse of toned, nude derriere as Draco scrambled into his bedroom at the end of the short hall before the door slammed shut, leaving him standing there, hard and alone. "Damn it." He could have said a lot worse as he saw Brody Paine peering around the side of the window next to the door, trying to see through the curtains hanging there. Thank Merlin Harry knew it was a lot harder to see into the house, than it was to see out of it.

The Gryffindor strode into the kitchen and grabbed the door, flinging it open. He glared at the man standing on the porch.

Brody's gaze went over Harry's state of undress, noticing the bulge in his trousers that the Auror wasn't even trying to hide. "Draco here?" His voice was mild, but he did step in front of the skinny girl hovering behind him.

Harry turned away, annoyed, horny, suspicious and quite possibly jealous. His attitude didn't make for a welcoming demeanor. "Draco," the Gryffindor barked.

"I'm here, I'm here," the blond called as he came skidding back into the room on stocking feet, having thrown on a deep blue sweat suit that looked like it was made for lounging on the cover of a fashion magazine rather than for working up an actual sweat.

Draco was dragging his fingers through his hair to settle it into place and if there was any sign of the man who'd just come apart in his hands on the kitchen counter, Harry would be damned if he could see it.

Avoiding Harry's eyes, Draco hurried past him to the door and pushed it wide. "Hi, Megan, Brody, come on in."

Harry stomped down the hall to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Yeah, he was acting about as mature as Eli, but at the moment, he didn't give a flying flip. He pulled on his shoes and socks. Draco was obviously going to be busy watching over the girl. And Harry, like it or not, had a job to do.

Brody was heading somewhere that day. Harry was going to find out exactly where as well as putting an end to this cat and mouse game that he had going with Snape. Then maybe he could close the file on this town. For some reason, that possibility was losing its appeal. He pushed off the tumbled bed, grabbing his shirt and putting it on. After he had finished doing up the last button he slowly picked up the pillows that had fallen to the floor. He pressed one to his face. It smelled of Draco.

Harry set both pillows on the bed and left the room, his manhood no longer trying to break free of his pants. Draco and Brody were facing each other, the full distance of the living room between them. Megan was hovering behind her father, misery practically screaming from her narrow shoulders, clad in a knitted sweater that looked about a full size too large. Her dishwater blond hair hung lank alongside her solemn face and her too big brown eyes followed every movement Harry made.

The Gryffindor picked up his coat and eyed Draco for a moment. "Remember the locks."

The blond nibbled his lip and nodded.

Ignoring Brody altogether, Harry left, going out through the back door. Who the hell was he kidding? The Gryffindor knew why closing the case and getting out of Little Whinging didn't fill him with joy any longer. The reason was inside that tiny house, lying his sweet Slytherin ass off to him about what he was doing.