The Boy Who Lived

Reasons for Rogue Magic

Draco opened the front door, heavily laden with bags, to hear a vague 'thud, thud-thud, thud' sound repeated over and over from the sitting room. Mr Hercules was laid outside the sitting room door and he looked balefully at Draco. Draco quietly pushed open the door to see Harry, stripped down to just a pair of shorts, taking out his apparent aggression on his punchbag which had reappeared in the room. The other furniture was temporarily vanished. Draco stood quietly, watching, fascinated. Harry had his back to him and his lean muscles rippled as the bag was jabbed and pounded; defined biceps, sculpted triceps, v-shaped dorsi, broad shoulders, moulded trapezius, tight glutes. All glistening with sweat as a visible haze of magic swirled around Harry in a terrifying whirl of iridescent air. It was amazing, Draco thought, to actually see magic so clearly beyond the brief blazes from casting spells. He danced on the balls of his feet as his arms moved in quick succession; 'right, left-left, right', over and over until the magic slowly dissipated and the tumult around Harry faded to nothing. Eventually he stopped, holding the bag, his forehead resting against it as he caught his breath.

'You shouldn't be in here when I'm like this,' he muttered, his voice muffled by his position.

Draco walked towards him slowly, he wanted to rest a hand on Harry's back but his semi-nakedness made Draco too self-conscious. He was shocked to see those scars again, now Harry had stopped moving. The dampness of Harry's exposed skin made them look worse, as if he'd taken a whipping at some time in his life. He added it to the list of things he desperately wanted to know about the man.

Instead of asking, he tenderly took one of Harry's hands, turning it over, inspecting his bloodied and bruised knuckles. 'Shit, Harry, why don't you wear gloves? Why do you do this to yourself?' He began to slowly heal the grazed and broken skin, softly, gently, caring for Harry. It was, he felt, something he could do in return for this man who always seemed so self-sacrificing for others.

Harry watched him intently, his chest still heaving from the exertion of his exercising. Draco tried not to notice the spattering of dark hairs that sat between his distinct pecs or the trickle of sweat that was making its way down his clearly-formed abs and mingling with the line of dark hair that ran down from his navel in a suggestion of hidden promise. He tried not to glance at the v-line caused by the sartorius muscle over his pelvis. He wished he was an artist so that he could draw the sculpted man stood before him. Instead, Harry passively let him take hold of his other hand and start to slowly heal that one too. Draco carefully avoided the letters carved into his hand but his eyes were drawn to them time and time again.

'Are you going to tell me all what this is about?'

'No,' Harry said abruptly, pulling his hand away suddenly and turning to swipe up a towel that had been flung in a corner. With a flick of his hand the sitting room was transfigured back to normal and the punchbag had disappeared, just leaving its ceiling hook. 'I'm going to grab a shower, then I'll cook us some dinner. Teddy's in his room, he'd probably like to see you.'

They didn't talk about what had happened or why. And dinner, somehow, was a jovial affair with the three of them sitting around the table and Hercules at their feet and Iolaus and Otrera watching on from near the French doors.

Draco didn't fail to notice that even though Harry cooked, Kreacher appeared and went to town with full silver-service table settings.

'It's a true Black back in the house...' Draco overheard him muttering gleefully to Harry more than once as the kitchen filled with the glorious smell of tomato and vegetable sauce and pasta.

Harry had scowled at the House-Elf and moved Draco's setting so it was next to his and not at the far end of the table in some ridiculous high-class farce. Kreacher mumbled as he opened a quality bottle of wine and poured two glasses and got a glass of apple juice for Teddy.