herumtreiber

Title: The Lord Appellant 21/37
Chapter: Walking bridges
Author:

herumtreiber
Genre: Slash, romance, adventure, dark!fic
Pairing: Draco/Blaise, one sided Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Warnings for the fic: It's a dark fic, rape is mentioned several times. Dementors appear and not for show. Character death (not Harry, Draco or Blaise). Evil!Ron, powerful Hermione, Pansy and Bellatrix. Sympathetic to Slytherins.
Epilogue compliant? No
Chapter length: ~3,060 words
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or related characters. Nor do I make any money from writing these stories.
Summary: After the events of HBP, the Minister of Magic wants to finish the Malfoys but Draco uses a Wizengamot procedure to fight back. Veelas and Siddhe appear in the story as Draco uses political means to contest the pureblood's allegiance to Voldemort.
Notes: I wrote this before DH was published, so please no picayune comments about canon.

Table of contents

20. Pranks and smut

That night, after they separated and cleaned from their lovemaking, and Blaise had sunk down to sleep like a stone, Draco still had something in his mind. He Summoned a piece of parchment and ink and began a letter to the Minister of Magic:

Dear Amelia Bones,

I'm writing to make a suggestion regarding Tonks. I know what she did was in very poor taste; still, the situation is that she is a Black. It is my sworn duty to protect her as befits my station of Lord Black. Even if this condition did not obtain, I would still like to protect her, she reminds me of myself in my earlier and obdurate pranks.

Amelia, I humbly ask you, nay beg you, that Tonks remain an Auror, at which job I've heard she's shown exceptional talent. Perhaps weekly counseling sessions with a specialist would help in centering her talents. Of course the Black Estate would take care of the expenses.

I ask you that you do not tell her of this letter. Let her believe what she will, as she thinks so little of me.

Sincerely,

Lord Malfoy and Black

Then Draco whistled a special tune, which people knowledgeable with Muggle culture would recognize with shock as "Happy Days," and presently his magnificent Eagle Owl, his black and brown feathers preening and ruffling, flew in from the window.

Draco said, "Ham, I want…" He stopped himself as the Eagle Owl screeched and hooted indignantly, finally he continued exasperated, "OK! Hammersfall, I want you to take this letter to Minister Bones, preferably just before she leaves for the Ministry. I'm sure you know her address, but the timing will be tricky."

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Ron was seething. He could see now that Harry had drawn back from him with a vengeance. He no longer told him his secrets, his dreams. He'd ceased being his confidante.

What made it worse, though, was that when Ron confronted Harry about his sudden lack of trust, Harry had turned up the charm works, and managed to take Ron's mind off of his suspicions.

It was those fake smiles, admiring glances, and put-upon sighs that unmasked the truth for Ron, because they were exactly the same things he did when he wanted to deceive Harry. To be truthful, the things he'd done since the very beginning to handle and manipulate Harry.

So he sat by the side as Harry drew away. Ron noticed that when Harry and Hermione thought he was away, they spoke freely of the Slytherins, whom they considered their "friends." As if one could be friends with snakes!

So the slimy gits had gotten Hermione, too!

But it was Harry who made him so angry, so angry that his blood boiled! Harry was his ticket to fame, and he couldn't be that when stuck to the slimy wankers.

A thought haunted him. He'd observed these changes in Harry beginning right after his attempted rape of Malfoy. Since then, he'd seemingly gotten more open, he hung around the Slytherins, he'd begun to wield political power. He looked more assertive and freer.

But what if it was all a façade? Ron knew that afterwards Malfoy had put Harry under Crucio and Legilimens. What if he put him under Imperio, too, and ordered all these changes?

Or what if he was blackmailing him, threatening to divulge how he'd almost raped him if he didn't do exactly as asked. It was something Malfoy would do.

And the Wizarding World would never know. It would naively walk to its doom.

It was necessary then for Ron to break cover and take direct action. But he had to have more. People would ask for proofs, testimonies, and Ron had not seen this, he had only heard Harry tell it. He needed the help of the four that had gone with Harry that day. The Twins would never act against Harry, in fact they'd go back to him the minute they finished and babble all about this plan, so that left him with two.

But they were more promising; Seamus and Dean had always resented Harry, and clutched that resentment close to their hearts and never shown it. Still, the ever shrewd Ron had felt it.

So that was why they were here, at this ungodly hour of the night, in a Wizarding pub in London, plotting to destroy two of the most important figures in the Wizarding World. That these figures were the famed Children of Prophecy mattered not to Ron, for he was a man that did not believe in fate and would rather make up his own. That they held the best chances against Voldemort bothered him not in the least, for he thought that with the troublesome duo out of the way, the Wizarding World would rally behind the Liberator, that is, him, and carry on their tasks and kill Voldemort.

The meeting with Seamus and Dean was uneventful enough, they agreed on the goals, and the means to get them. They settled on the testimony they would offer. Ron had set up a Privacy spell, one strong enough to withstand even his snooping brothers, but not wily enough to successfully resist a very curious house elf. Kippsy had recognized the redhead as the boy who was friends with Harry Potter, and since Dobby was always harping about how good Harry Potter was, she wanted to learn more.

There were many terms and words that Kippsy did not understand, but she got the gist of the meeting: they were conspiring to hurt Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

Harry she did not have the pleasure to know. Once in this very pub, Draco had been drinking with some young men, when Dobby suddenly appeared, wearing Donkey's ears and appearing very flustered, obviously the victim of a prank. Draco calmly proceeded to restore the ears to their proper shape and size, talking in Dobby's ear and successfully calming him down. Then they all paid and left. What stuck in her memory were the caring gestures of Draco and the smooth tenor of his voice as he calmed Dobby.

She resolved that the Wizarding World, and her, could not afford to lose this young man. She prepared to go to Dobby and tell her the story; maybe they could use the contraption they had: Pensize? To view the memory.

The next morning they were taking breakfast in the Manor's dining room. Blaise and Draco were holding hands and just glowed, especially Draco. Pansy looked quite smug as she received a small money bag from Millie.

Draco whispered to Blaise, "I guess Pansy made a killing betting about us."

Blaise replied, "You would think the oafs would get a hint that she knows us the best, but they don't! At any rate, I'm happy, for that means she won't be mad that she didn't get to see."

Draco answered, "I wouldn't be too sure about it, Blaise. She's been experimenting with those bug things the Weasley Twins produce, and has even improved them. Supposedly they tape rooms, so she might have."

Blaise's brow was covered in sweat as he imagined what they must have looked like. He slurping on Draco's cock like a lollipop, then Draco feasting on his behind as if it was the last meal, then him riding Draco's cock and taking all 10 inches, impaled on Draco's cock as he walked to the couch. He was completely erect now and dripping pre-cum. Heck! He would buy the thing himself, just to see him like this again. This got him into thinking about getting recording devices and using them. He really wanted to see how they looked from the outside.

Draco recognized Blaise's lust attack because he was suffering one of his own. To distract him, he told him about the letter he'd sent to Minister Bones about Tonks. The Slytherins were contemptuous of Tonks with the notable exception of Millicent Bulstrode. She turned to Draco and said, "So this all started with her reentry into Black House, where it seems the Blacks have a penchant for pranks, as evidenced by Sirius Black's past as a pranksting Marauder."

Draco nodded wearily, "Yes, that is so."

Millie went on the attack, "But you wouldn't consider yourself a prankster, would you, Draco?"

Draco denied vehemently, "No, I'm not. Well, I used to be, but realized that was wrong and don't do it anymore."

Millie doggedly went on, "But what about your political plans?"

Draco answered suspiciously, "What about them?"

Millie countered, "Aren't they considered very shrewd? I've seen them in action and know that when all is said and done, the wrongdoers will be left alone and bereft, with the maximum theatrical effect possible, with the least cost."

She continued, "That could be interpreted as the definition of a prank."

"Face it Draco, you are a political prankster, causing mayhem to miscreants with your cunning plans. There's such a thing as a prankster tendency in the Blacks, and you most assuredly did not escape it."

"But tell me, if you could persuade Miss Tonks of this fact, if you could draw her into political pranksterism allied with yourself, you would win a very talented Metamorphmagus, sharing with you Black blood. I can tell you would make a good damn political team!"

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Meanwhile, Minister Bones had an appointment with Tonks first thing in the morning. She'd decided to retire her from Auror duty, until she read Draco's letter. This had led her to thinking, and he saw a way in which she could cause a small improvement in the cousins' relationship.

So when Tonks trepidantly knocked on the door and then timidly sat down, Amelia said, "I will be blunt, Tonks. I was about to let you go, to terminate your appointment to the Aurors, when a letter came.

"The letter humbly asked me to let you stay, when the customary tenor of the letter-writer is imperious at best. He offered good reasons to let you stay, not the least of which was that you reminded him of himself. He even offered a practical course to take to calm down your peculiarities. The sad part is at the end, I'll read it: "I ask you that you do not tell her of this letter. Let her believe what she will, as she thinks so little of me.""

"The letter-writer, your cousin Draco, Lord Black, offered the Black Estate to pay for any medical expenses incurred when treating your condition. It's due to his forbearance and love that your appointment with the Aurors continue."

"Tonks, when I asked you to come, I did it because you are his next of kin. That boy has always had very strained relationships with the people who are supposed to take care of him. No one knows where Narcissa Malfoy is, Lucius treated Draco so bad that it eventually became a well-known fact; heaven knows how Draco and Bellatrix would interact! And he was prohibited from seeing you or his aunt, your mother."

"So I expected that you, as his next of kin, might feel compelled to welcome him into your heart with open arms. I'm sorry, but surely not as bitterly sorry as Draco. You can go, Tonks."

Tonks got to the door and opened it, trembling. When she'd closed it, she broke down crying. She felt strong hands supporting her, and opening her eyes, beheld Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"What's up Tonks?"

"Just realized I'm an utter moron. I hurt someone who'd helped me immensely and that person, instead of retaliating, worked for my welfare, just like he said he would."

Shacklebolt said, "So what are you going to do about Malfoy? Do as he says and avoid him completely?"

Tonks answered, "I will do so, but I will also write him a letter, hopefully with more ability."

Draco and Blaise were in the music room, and Draco was playing a Nocturne by Chopin on the piano. The work was somber and set a wistful, contemplative mood; which was ideally suited for Draco right now. He could sense Blaise's curiosity, he moved his shoulders just so, and stuck his hands in his pockets.

He made a private bet with himself that Blaise would pop the question within the next 5 minutes.

Three minutes later Blaise asked, "Why?"

Draco looked dumbfounded. Blaise answered, "Don't play with me! You know what I mean! Why did you react so strongly to Tonks posing as Narcissa? It's not as if you haven't been pranked before." "But you looked so full of hope, as if your mother showing up here were quite the possibility, until you realized it was only the bitch, and then your hopes fell."

Blaise continued, "What do you know about Narcissa to fill you with hope? Is there something I can do to help? Is it another harebrained scheme of yours?"

Draco weighed his options, by telling the truth he could hurt Blaise, could maybe even lose him. But he also knew that being told lies wasn't healthy for any relationship. He knew that telling the truth took real courage, and he hoped Blaise could see his love by his true words.

He answered, "I have told you about the mental sea, in whose winds I used to lose myself to avoid thinking about Potter when that damned Veela Bond tried to force me to do it. I would take a mental current and be swept away under that thought's auspices and the Bond could not interfere."

"So I used that all the time to safeguard my sanity."

Draco continued, wearily, "What no one knows, what you don't know, Blaise, is how tempting those mental winds became. I now call them Bridges, in my mind, they are adamantine, sparkling as new diamonds, extending at any direction I want, and they have the beauty of strength and truth. I know they won't let me down."

"At first, when I was exploring and riding the Bridges, I found out that every inch of that space would seem to be throbbing with life, or rather, potential life. I instinctively knew that most of the places hadn't existed yet, they were possibilities only, a window showing what the possibility trapped therein represented, only for a conscious mind to decide, but I could make them real."

"Also, when riding the Bridges, I knew deep in my bones, that I must not delay too much in staring at a determined Spot, or it would become real and I would become trapped in it."

"Then came a winter day at Hogwarts when I was at a low point. I was weary of my daily ordeal with the Veela Bond, with dealing with Lucius, Voldemort, Dumbledore and Potter. I was emotionally exhausted and sought succor with the Bridges. I stared at a Spot that was perfection indeed: a good life, good friends, travel, fame, good works, and at the end a bed to turn to with my spouse of 67 years. I decided to stay there, and make it a reality, and say goodbye to this one."

"The work was almost completed when Pansy found me. She thought I was killing myself, (which in a sense I was) I managed to convince both her and Pomphrey that I was so weak due to the loss of blood."

"After that I used the Bridges more cautiously, I was more attuned to them by then, and could create Bridges to the same place."

"There is no doubt in my mind that this is what the prophecy refers to when it says "The Child of Dark holds the balance of the worlds in his hands." "Soon I will be able to move to other Realms, but do not worry, sweet Blaise, for you will be with me always."

"Of great import for our discussion, I have begun to have dreams about the Bridges. I can ride them still when I'm asleep and it feels completely real."

"Furthermore, lately I entered a Bridge and then a Spot with no damage to my health, there I met my mother. She talked of inconsequentials as is her wont, but I could tell it was her. Abruptly the dream ended. And I glimpsed another reality setting in."

"I have had two other encounters with my mother in this way. That is why the whole Tonks episode didn't seem too strange for me."

"You must not fear that I will leave you behind, Blaise! I would rather die than do that, and you know it."

Blaise answered, "I'm sure, Draco. I do worry about you, but your leaving me behind when you could take me is not one of my worries." "We've had word from Goyle Sr. indicating the operating place. We attack tomorrow."

"Tomorrow we attack, and the music has grown too sad for my tastes. Whatever shall we do to entertain ourselves, Blaise?"

Blaise responded by kissing Draco, boldly opening his lips with his own, and hungrily sucking his tongue like he wanted to suck another part of him. At the same time, he managed to get Draco's robe off of him, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

While Draco had been doing the same things, he was thinking why Blaise had not used a banishing spell, Oh, yeah, right. They weren't in his bedroom and could conceivably be seen, in which case it would be well to have the clothes nearby. Good thinking Blaise.

Draco proceeded to leave a trail of kisses from Blaise's mouth to his collarbones, his chest, ending on his nipples, which he was busy taking care of, alternatively biting and sucking.

They were so caught up in themselves that they didn't hear the door open until a loud squeak could be heard, following by vehement cursing.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I'm too early, if I had known I would have come 10 minutes later," said Pansy.

Draco replied, "Early? What do you mean?"

Blaise answered, "If she had waited 10 minutes more she would have found us in a more compromising position, Draco," while he was dressing himself.

Then Blaise approached Pansy and said, "I know about your bugs, Pansy. Did you get anything last night?"

"So you can take it all away, even if it was so wet?"

"You can have one copy, for your use only. I want a copy for myself."

Pansy sniffed, "I'm so proud of you, my boys are growing up!"

"Your boys?"

"OK, my big brothers then. You're still growing up."

22. Black sister rescued