𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐒 2008

Tuum Est (2/2)

Tuum est Part 2 of 2

Fifteen hours before his second, pre-arranged rendezvous with Harry, Draco stumbled out of the fireplace at the safe house in Park Row, hissing even as he pushed away the wand that his partner had whipped out in surprise. "Put that thing away, Potter. And get ready to move out. There’s been a change of plans."

Harry stared as he brushed off his robes. "Malfoy? What's happened?"

"We delayed too long—I delayed too long," said Draco, marching toward the kitchen. He made a quick perusal of the room before systematically casting Reducio on the documents and surveillance equipment strewn about.

Harry followed, confused, though he too copied Draco’s movements. "What’s going on—Reducio—Malfoy? I thought—no, no, I might need that—I thought that—Reducio—we weren’t meeting until—don’t forget the files in the drawer—until six tonight?"

Draco ignored him. "One of the team members in Costa’s inner circle let slip that the operation will commence at ten o'clock. Tonight. So I checked the storeroom during a guard change. Everything’s gone, Potter: potions, stealth cloaks, black market wands and brooms." He paused, unconsciously tightening his grip around his wand. "I have to find out what their target is now, before it’s too late."

Harry hesitated before moving to stand next to him. "Hey," he said, reaching out to place a hand on his partner’s shoulder. "It’s not just you. We’re a team, right?"

Draco stiffened, shrugging away from Harry’s touch. "Sure, which is why I need you to send headquarters a message. Make sure they’ve got an Auror contingent ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice. I’ll keep working on Costa. He’s given me access to his rooms—that’s why I came through the Floo this time. I wasn’t going to use it and prove you right, but I decided the situation was dire enough."

Harry rolled his eyes, but the look he turned on Draco was concerned. "What do you mean he’s given you access to his rooms? You haven’t—"

"Oh, give it up, Potter! Get it through that thick head of yours—they’re moving out. I agreed to delay any kind of move on my part for forty-eight hours, and now I’ve got less than seven to get the intelligence we need." He raked a hand through his hair, still brown and wavy in its Polyjuiced form. "Merlin, if I had known you were going to be such a prude about the details, I would’ve asked Shacklebolt to assign someone else to be my backup. We could’ve been out of here days ago, Potter!"

Harry stared. Was Draco right? Was he the one holding back the progress of this mission? He wanted desperately to believe that they had alternatives, that there was some other way for them to save the Muggles and Muggle-sympathizers who would undoubtedly become casualties if the Blue Mystics were to succeed. And yet, even as he struggled against what was shaping up to be inevitable, a very different thought crossed his mind—a memory, his face pressed into the dusty carpet of the office… down the steps and out into the darkness…his limbs working without conscious instruction…he stumbled and slipped towards the end of his life, towards Voldemort…

When Harry finally met his eyes, Draco was startled out of his anger to see that instead of the stubborn look he’d been expecting, there was only a look of understanding. "Potter?" he enquired, hesitantly.

Harry gave his head a shake, and the smile he shot Draco was tired, but warm. "Perhaps you and I are not so different after all," he murmured, and before Draco could demand what he meant by that, he pulled something from his robes, forcing it into his hands. "Here, for you."