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{7}

Harry and Draco were settling in after a quiet dinner, talking rather idly of nothing much more than what was happening around them. Draco had Harry's thigh clasped gently in his hand as his body leaned towards him, looking with an affectionate pair of eyes into Harry's own green set. His husband saved moments like these for when he was most comfortable. Of course, that meant affections were spared for the mere hours they spent alone, or in Severus' sole company. Harry didn't mind, he knew Draco was still hard of heart from all the years his father had traduced the world around, a world Harry loved and had made free for them all. Sometimes he was even sure that his husband resented him. While he may have spoken for Draco and his mother, Harry couldn't have hardly cared for Lucius. Draco Potter, née Malfoy, said that he hated him, but no one really hated their parents. So, Harry chose to cherish times like these where Draco made him itch for more, for when he blatantly showed him every true desire that laid in his heart. By Merlin, Harry loved his husband who soon pushed his hand further up his thigh and leaned forward, the talking ceased.

And just when Draco was about to press his lips to his husband's, a violent knock rapped on their door.

"Don't answer it," Harry threatened with only half of what he could have. Draco just shook his head and removed every single inch of contact between them making the boy-who-lived groan audibly.

"Coming!" He called, waltzing towards the door.

"Not quickly enough for the thrice-damned things I know!" A rather flustered Pansy Parkinson replied on the other end of the door.

Draco shot an inquisitive look at Harry who shrugged, not entirely sure what was going on either.

"Alright, Pans, what is the—" before Draco could get another word in, the surprisingly well-dressed witch spoke clearly over him.

"Ron erased Snape's memory!"

As if Harry hadn't heard any of that sentence but his best-mate's name, he wondered aloud: "Ron? When did you see Ron to have this conversation."

"Potter," Draco interrupted, scorning his husband.

"You missed the point!" Pansy screeched, "He erased Severus' memory, Harry!"

Getting up from the warm sofa, Harry attempted to wrap his head around the fact that Ron could have done something so cruel.

"But why?"

Pansy glared at him for no reason, but after a few seconds Harry caught on.

"He still loves Hermione."

She nodded.

With a heavy sigh, Harry looked at Draco as if for guidance on what to do. Maybe there was a special circumstance that they could let him off on, for he certainly didn't want to send the ignorant prat to Azkaban any more than any of his Aurors would. What other choice did they have though, if he truly did commit such a horrid crime against someone he was supposed to be getting along with? It was too confusing to think of right then.

"We'll report it in the morning," Harry determined.

"I agree."

"Of course you agree with your husband, Draco," Pansy seemed frustrated, "Why not just nab the traitor right now."

"Because have you looked at the time... why are you so pressed to arrest him?" Harry wondered suspiciously. As a part of being an Auror, he needed to be able to read people clearly, and something was off with Pansy just then.

"You fancy Weasley," Harry's other half immediately noticed, stoic as ever even if Weasley was his worst enemy.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at Draco who simply stared back blankly.

"What?! You act like I haven't known you, Pans, our whole damn lives! You blow in here like a bludger and expect me not to see right through you? Who in hell do you think I am?" Draco worded quite quickly, articulating his every word so that she at least understood his imperative speech. Though Harry had always assumed that no one ever made fast friends in Slytherin house, he could see that past the irritation Pansy and Draco really did care for one-another. It wasn't superficial, why would it be when he just bit her head off?

"Draco Malfoy?"

"Draco Potter," Harry cut in quite obnoxiously, asserting the fact he'd obliterated Draco's last name and a few other things the wizard no longer possessed.

"So I fancy Weasley! That's all over now, isn't it? Tomorrow morning he'll be in at least a ministry cell at the bottom of that pit of hell," Pansy regarded.

"I work there, you know, Pans," Harry interceded again, walking over to the conversation.

"Sorry, mate."

He shrugged. There would always be those who didn't trust the government, and he simply happened to know most of them. Harry understood, however, even working as one of the top Aurors he had his doubts. Then again, with Hermione creeping slowly into the Minister for Magic position, he could tell faith was being restored in it.

"Yeah, well, I reckon we all get some rest because tomorrow will be an interesting day to say little."

Pansy nodded and seemed content to slip out her wand from her sleeve and apparate from the premises.

Harry sighed heavily when she left however, having to take a seat now that his boisterous friend was gone. He couldn't begin to fathom that Ron would attempt hurting Hermione that way. It was simply unforgivable to even think of erasing Severus' mind like that, for no matter how temporary it could have been, it still did damage beyond repair.

The only problem left was finding out what exactly happened to Hermione. Surely Ron couldn't have done it to her either, correct? Pansy surely would have gotten it out of him if he had admitted to it, Harry was sure.

"Are you alright?" Draco came up and asked, carefully maneuvering himself so that on his spot next to the couch, he wasn't touching his husband at all.

"I can't believe Ron did this!"

Carefully, Draco leaned forward and took Harry's chin between his thumb and finger, pulling their eyes to meet.

"People do mad things when they are in love, Potter."

"Potter: Don't Potter me! I knew there was a bloody good reason I didn't want you to answer that door," Harry said and sat back, not allowing the contact to continue.

"The only reason you didn't want me to answer that door is your sex drive, Harry," Draco accused first and foremost, settling back as well.

"I don't want to get upset at you for this, really," Harry said lightly, looking at him with a bit of a softer demeanor.

"I know that, you prat. Yet I also know you. So why don't you come to bed and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

Following his sentimental speech was a proffered hand that was taken by the opposing body. Harry smiled as Draco brought him into a rare hug, their muscles pressed into one-another with respect and love.

"Listen," he whispered, "We will figure this out tomorrow, yes?"

"Yeah."

Draco nodded and did something Harry hadn't expected that night. He kissed him, passionately, and took away all of Harry's worries from the past few days.

-

Ron had conceded that it wasn't going to be tonight he'd be taken in when it hit midnight. After Pansy had left and he'd returned home, he prepared everything for his long trip away from home, then waited for Aurors to kick down his door and look ashamedly at him. Them not coming only made everything worse, however. Ron's guilt was immense in that time, for he had just wanted it all to be over with. It would be easier if he were to rot in a cell, would it not?

He eventually went to bed around one in the morning, miserable beyond comparison. Ron's chest felt heavy, like someone was compressing it down with large weights. Maybe this last night of sleep in his own bed would do him well, for he knew that it would be a very long time before he was ever in it again.

-

When Harry woke up next to his bare husband the next morning, everything felt right. He hadn't been like this in a few days. The sun was shining again, and it seemed like a wonderful day for the most part.

And then Harry remembered that his best mate erased his best friend's fiancé's memory and suddenly everything didn't seem so brilliant.

"We have to turn in Ron today," Harry groaned, flipping over so he could look at Draco.

"You... you have to turn in Ron today," Draco muttered back hoarsely, attempting to shove a pillow over his face.

Harry yanked the pillow away and stared his husband in the eye.

"We."

"Fine. Bloody Golden Boy always getting whatever the bloody hell he wants," Draco lazily ranted closing his eyes and laying against the mattress without a pillow.

"I love you," Harry replied earning an annoyed hum. "But seriously, I'm going to need you for this. Have you ever turned in your best friend?"

Draco opened a single, gray eye clearly stating, "Does condemning your father to Azkaban count?"

"No," Harry replied back, moving forward over the pillow he'd snatched and placing his lips against the blond's.

It lasted a few minutes as Harry attempted to delay the inevitable happenings of the day. Of course, all good things must come to an end, so with Draco's hands pressed against his shoulders and force initiated, the contact ceased.

"Get up, love, shower and wear black if this is going to be so bloody hard for you."

"I reckon we should go to the ministry first? Let the aurors do it?"

"You are an auror, Harry."

"Yeah, but could you arrest your best mate?" Draco looked at Harry as he pulled on a pair of boxers, simply watching.

"If it was the right thing to do," he determined, "I would have much pleasure in arresting Pansy."

Harry just chuckled and threw Draco's boxers at him.

"Put these on."

"How did they even end up over there?" The blond inquired, slipping the pair of underwear on as he got up from the bed.

Harry shrugged, slipping from the room into their bathroom and turning on the hot water. He knew they were being rather easy in demeanor for what was about to happen, but what did it matter?

Soon enough, Harry was in his professional clothes for when he spent time in the office, and Draco was attired normally.

"Maybe you should just phone them, you look a wreck," Draco told Harry as he stared into the wall-mirror in their room.

The brunet shook his mess of hair and straightened his attire.

"I can't."

Uncharacteristically, Draco's features softened and walked forward, crossing their carpeted floor to stand directly behind his husband.

Harry was crying, of course he was, and he felt so powerless in it all. Couldn't Ron not have been a complete pillock and just accepted the fact Hermione had moved on? Besides, what happened to the ease that he'd had before his shower? He wanted that fake confidence back, no matter how false.

Warm arms wrapped around him, and Harry was almost startled at the broad daylight affection.

"I can't claim I like Weasley, but I know this is the last thing you wish to see happen to him," Draco hummed, "Let's just do it quick, hm?"

The hot kiss pressed to Harry's perspiring skin calmed almost every nerve in his body.

"Let's go."

They took a floo to the minsitry, Draco holding Harry's hand the whole way through it. Either one couldn't have been more thankful for the other. Harry's reason was obvious, but his husband's was of pure fear. The public rather hated him, and while he acted confident around his friends, he felt suffocated. Especially at the minsitry. Harry's rassuring grasp made everything better, however, even if the Golden Boy himself was going through a tough time.

"Harry, sir, what are you doing here?" One of his aurors asked him as he appraoched with a sad face, but he shook his head and seemed to find something important filed away in his mind, "Wait, before you answer that, we found out who took Granger's memories."

Harry stopped in his tracks. They what?

A/N

Hehehehehehe. Whoops.

Have I ever mentioned I love cliff hangers?

Hope you enjoyed your promised update!!! See you Saturday!!!

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