Stop All the Clocks (This Is the Last Time I'm Leaving Without You)

chapter 24

“Sectumsempra!”

Harry threw himself aside, but not quite fast enough. The curse caught him across his left shoulder and upper arm, the bright rush of pain such a shock that he could only grunt. He staggered, slumped against the wall, and the wizard who’d cast the curse continued sprinting down the hallway.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Draco cried, but his spell went wide. The other two Aurors in pursuit raced by him as he turned back to Harry. “Fuck, he got you.”

Harry pressed his right hand to the wound, blood flowing over his fingers. “Not as bad as it looks,” he ground out. The fingers on his left hand had gone numb.

He held still while Draco cast a few healing charms on it, not enough to take away the pain entirely but the bleeding slowed to something a little more manageable. He stood shakily, and Draco steadied him.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, flicking a glance down the empty hall. “They can’t handle him.”

Harry knew he was right. The Aurors had warded the place so there was no escape. Once the wizard figured it out, he’d turn nasty. Draco and Harry had the most Dark Arts experience and at least one of them needed to be there. He nodded, still gritting his teeth.

“Go,” he said, and Draco hesitated, his eyes flickering back to Harry, and it struck Harry what he was waiting for. “I won’t do this again, Malfoy. This is the last time I’m leaving without you.”

Draco quirked a grin at him. “I bet you say that to all the boys, Scarhead. We’ll have this discussion later.”

And then he was racing down the hall, his robes billowing out behind him, and then he turned the corner and was gone. Harry turned away and hurried back the way he’d come. His wound throbbed with every step, and it was a welcome distraction from the old familiar worry for Draco that gnawed at his gut. He knew Draco could more than handle himself, but being an active Auror was a dangerous job and anything could happen.

This was exactly why he’d never take McGonagall’s offer. As much as Draco wanted him to take it and as good as Harry thought he’d be at teaching, he couldn’t stand to live with this worry day after day after day. It was bad enough on the few occasions they had to split up like this. Harry needed to be Draco’s partner because he didn’t trust anyone else to keep Draco safe. He pictured himself at home, trying to focus on marking essays while he waited for Draco to come back to him safely, dreading the chime of the Floo where an Auror wearing a carefully compassionate expression called him to St Mungo’s. No, he needed to be here at Draco’s side. He didn’t think their relationship would survive any other way.

He passed another four Aurors, pressing himself up against the wall as they rushed past, then hurried out of the warehouse and into the warm summer evening. The wards crackled menacingly as he passed through them and headed straight for the small triage station set up over to the side.

“Potter,” Robards said, jogging up and falling into step beside him. “Report.”

“Hopkins is holed up on the second floor. Aurors Cross and Hardy are dismantling the wards he’s cast, with Aurors Frost and Lambert assisting. I was injured in pursuit of Rowe. Aurors Malfoy, Ross, and Burkins are still after him. And…” Harry paused, dredging up the faces of the four Aurors who’d run by him. “Aurors Nelson, Barbs, Lynch, and… bloody hell, I can never remember her name. Lynch’s partner, blonde girl.”

“Auror Gibbs,” Robards filled in, eyeing Harry’s bleeding arm. “When we get Rowe, he’s going away for a very long time. Cursing an Auror carries a heavy sentence.”

Especially when said Auror was Harry Potter, but with his shoulder screaming in pain and his hand still frighteningly numb, Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to complain about preferential treatment. “Did we apprehend Morton?”