FIC--Reconstructing Draco: Behind Enemy Lines (Draco/Asteria)

[ficsbydeenas]

Title: Reconstructing Draco
Rating: R
Pairing: Draco/Asteria
Words: approx.5140
Betas: queenb23more and paukenfrau
Summary: Draco's life is not what he had imagined it to be. Change comes in unexpected ways.



Reconstructing Draco

Part Two
Behind Enemy Lines



"Malfoy!" grunted Knorkak, ten feet away from Draco's office door.

He shook his head; why goblins didn't install a modern communication system was beyond him. "Yes? You bellowed?"

The goblin now stood in the doorway. "Appointment."

Draco checked his calendar; he wasn't expecting anyone today. "Did I miss something?"

"Just came in. Demanded to see you."

"Fine, just give me a minute to straighten up my desk." He hated not having a tidy desk.

"No. He's here now. Can't keep him waiting." Knorkak turned around abruptly and left the office.

Draco growled and began shuffling papers around, quickly clearing off the top of his desk.

"Malfoy."

Draco stiffened and set his jaw. That was not the voice he wanted to hear. With a deep breath, he looked up. "Potter. What do you want?" he asked harshly, sitting back in his

"May I sit?" Potter pointed to the empty chair in front of Draco.

"If you must." Draco watched Potter slide effortlessly into the leather chair. Somewhere in the past five years, Potter had developed some grace in the way he carried himself. "Now tell me what you want so I can get rid of you."

Potter smirked and shook his head. "I'm not playing that game anymore. I have an offer for you."

Raising an eyebrow, Draco answered, "An offer? To reduce my restrictions? That would be most welcome. I'd like to go home."

"Or to Teri's?"

"Oh shut up." He was not going to have this conversation with Harry Potter. His private life was his own business

Of course, it would make things easier for him. It had been a little over a month since he met Asteria and he supposed she was his girlfriend. Or more precisely, his lover. They saw each other frequently and it was more often than not that she stayed over at his flat.

His flat. That was what annoyed him the most about his restrictions. It was the second floor of a row house on Penshurst Road and quite possibly the smallest place he'd ever lived. Even at Hogwarts, when he had to share a dormitory, he had more room for his things. The bedroom barely had room for his double bed and the kitchen was smaller than a Hogwarts broom cupboard. But it was what he could afford and within the damnable radius of Diagon Alley. He would have preferred, of course, the west side, but on his salary, the East End was his only option. His father always told him, "Only the riff-raff live east of Hyde and Regents." If he had been alone, that remark would have made him chuckle with the image of his father turning round in his grave.

"The Ministry wants to offer you a job," Potter explained bluntly.

Draco almost tipped over his chair from leaning back so far.

"You all right?" Potter smirked again.

"This is a joke, isn't it?" Draco looked around the office. "Asteria told me about Muggle programmes and how they play practical jokes. It's not funny."

Potter leaned forward and clasped his hands on Draco's desk. "It's serious. We have a need for some new consultants."

"And you thought of me? How charming. No."

"You're actually the kind of person we need," Potter explained.

"What—a former Death Eater on the outs of society?" Draco raised an eyebrow in doubt.

"Actually...yes."

Draco stood and leaned over Potter. "I don't appreciate being the butt of Ministry jokes. I've grown quite tired of it."

Potter stood, meeting Draco's stare. "Will you at least let me explain? Come on. Humour me."

"Proceed." Draco was actually quite pleased with his behaviour. Normally, he would have decked Potter. "I'm all ears," he answered as he sat.

"Thank you. The position deals with infiltrating and investigating organized crime and terrorist cells."

"Is that the new name for Dark wizards?" Draco couldn't help but chuckle. "You've gone soft, Potter."

"Good one," he said with his own chuckle. "Seriously, there's been an influx of crime families in the wizarding communities. And with the Muggle war in the Middle East, more and more wizard terrorists are fleeing the area. London just happens to have a history."

Draco had to admit that sounded very interesting and a hell of a lot more exciting than working at the damn bank.

"Okay, you've got my attention. But why me?"

"As you've so conveniently pointed out, you have a history and the ability to use subterfuge to cover up your true task."

Draco shook his head. "Wow. I never would have thought you'd call what I did 'subterfuge'."

"Personally, I think what you did was stupid, cowardly—"

"I get the point, Potter," Draco said with an edge to his voice.

"But professionally, your ability to carry out a great deal of your plan right under the noses of a castle full of brilliant witches and wizards is something not everyone could have done."

"Who are you? You're not the Harry Potter that I know and loathe. What are you playing at?" Draco stood over his companion again.

He watched as Potter pushed back his chair and smiled. "Oh, it's me, Draco. You ran like a scared little girl out of the Forbidden Forest with Fang trailing behind you."

Draco scowled, not wanting to remember that particular incident from his youth. "Fine, it's you. But it's not something I'm all that interested in. Nor do I think I'm qualified. NEWTs never happened, you know."

Potter shook his head. "I'm proof that you don't need NEWTs to work in the Ministry."

"Well, we can't all be heroes."

"In this day and age, we could use a little help from the other side, too. At least think about it. Our intelligence says there's an attack forming, and we need someone soon." He rose and walked quietly the door. "We'd be lucky to have you."

Draco stared after him as Harry left the office as quietly as he had come.

---

Draco reappeared at the end of his street and began walking toward his door. He pulled the collar of his coat up to shield him from the cold winter wind that stung his skin. Blowing hot air into his hands, he climbed the steps to his door, retrieved his wand from his coat pocket, and unlocked the door.

"Bugger!" he said to the entry way and hung his coat on the peg before climbing the steep stairs to his flat. Teri was supposed to be coming over for dinner tonight, and Draco smiled at the thought of a nice warm romp in the sheets before she had to leave for Luxembourg in the morning.

At the top of the stairs, he smelled something cooking, knowing instantly that she was already there. He turned the knob and walked into the tiny kitchen.

"Hi," he said in a low voice, taking the three steps necessary to get to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "How was your day?"

She stopped chopping the salad greens and tilted her head to the side, allowing him to kiss her neck.

"Long. I'm not looking forward to leaving tomorrow."

"Me neither," he murmured, hoping that she'd forget about dinner. His hands went to her stomach and slid inside her shirt. "I hate when you leave."

She let out a snort and turned in his arms. "You are such a man. You either think with your dick or your stomach." She punched him playfully in the stomach and he feigned injury.

"I do not. I think with my brain," he answered with a chuckle. "I had a lot to think about today." Draco reached around her, grabbed a carrot, and began to chew it as he made his way toward the table.

She gave up on the chopping and turned toward him, leaning against the worktop. "Really? Like what?"

He really didn't want to talk about it, but he knew she'd be able to get it out of him no matter what. "Someone from the Ministry came to see me."

"I know."

He lifted his head quickly. "You knew? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Of course I knew. I work with Harry, remember?"

He scoffed. "How can I forget? Between you and Blaise singing his praises, I'm surprised you don't have 'Potter' tattooed somewhere."

She merely rolled her eyes. "You mean you haven't found it yet? And here I thought you'd explored every millimetre of my body already."

"Very funny."

Asteria knew what a sore spot Harry Potter was for him and by now, she'd learned to deflect his anger somehow. But this wasn't just about Potter; she knew about the job offer and probably put them up to it. He wasn't a charity case, and he'd be damned if he let his girlfriend be the one to get him a better job; he would rather work for Hagrid.

"If I were you, I'd be interested to know why they want you. It's a compliment, Draco," she said calmly, trying to soothe him by putting a hand on his, but he snatched his hand away as if burned by her touch.

"A compliment that my girlfriend asked her boss to give me a job? Ashamed of me now?" He leaned back and crossed his arms.

"I did no such thing! How dare you say that to me! I only found out this morning at the staff meeting. Harry brought it up and I said nothing." She paused, almost as if waiting for him to say something. "And I resent the implication, Draco."

She made to get up but Draco sprang from his seat and caught her. "Don't. Don't leave, please."

He locked eyes with her and began rubbing his lips together, wanting her to see how he felt. There weren't many times when he wanted her to use her ability on him, but he did now. He wanted her to see that he was flattered by the Ministry offer, yet sceptical about why; he wanted her to know that he believed her but found it a little strange that it occurred soon after they began seeing each other.

"You believe that?" she asked breathily. "You think I went in search of you as...as a recruitment mission?" She wiggled her way out of his grasp and made for the door, this time beating him to the door.

He heard the pop of Disapparition and swore. Knowing he'd be arrested or some other kind of rot, he Disapparated to her flat.

---

Draco opened his eyes and looked around, desperately hoping he was where he wanted to be. The building in front of him was number fifteen all right, but there was no way of knowing if it was Wintergreen Place. He walked down the sidewalk, looking left and right, hoping to find a sign or someone to ask. It wouldn't be long before the Aurors found him and that was the only thing he was sure of at the moment. Thankfully, he saw an old woman pulling a granny trolley.

"Excuse me, but is this Wintergreen Place?" He hoped he didn't appear as stupid as he felt.

"Aye, tis, laddie," she answered with a slight Gaelic lilt. In fact, she sounded a bit like Professor McGonagall.

"In...in Wanstead?"

"Me boy, if ye don' know where ye are, per'aps ye need a map." She huffed and continued on her way down the street.

Once she had crossed the street, Draco turned around ran back toward the place he had Apparated to. A few houses down from his destination, he stopped short at the sight of five Aurors standing right in front of Teri's flat.

"There he is!" one of them shouted and ran after him.

Draco spun around, going back the way he'd come and turned the corner, running right into someone and sending them to the pavement.

"Bloody fucking hell!"

"Watch where you're going!" shouted his victim.

Draco looked down to apologize and shouted, "Asteria?" He held out a hand to help her up.

When she was upright, she yelled, "What are you doing here?"

"They're after me." He took off down the street again, knowing that he couldn't outrun them but kept going. Panic had taken over.

"Stupefy!" someone shouted from behind him and he fell down, a colourful string of curse words forming in his mouth but never coming out.

The sound of footsteps drew nearer and he dreaded looking up and seeing his captors. When he did open his eyes, all he saw were five wands pointed at him, ready to send him to hell.

"Ennervate," someone muttered and a hand was outstretched in front of him.

Draco looked at the proffered freckled hand and groaned. "Weasley, I don't need your help." He swatted the hand away, rolled to the side, and stood up.

Weasley cleared his throat and announced, "Draco Malfoy, you are in violation of—"

"I know, I know," Draco interrupted, holding out his hands, awaiting the anticipated handcuffs. He felt the cold metal around his wrists and the sound of the fastening made him wince.

"Ron, please!" Asteria pleaded, stepping between the two men. "Can I just talk to him please?"

"Step aside, Greengrass," Weasley said with much bravado. "He broke the terms of his release."

She stepped up to him, looking up at him with no fear in her eyes. "He didn't leave maliciously or whatever it is you're thinking, Auror Weasley. He was coming after me. Now please, let him tell me what he wanted to say!"

Draco's eyes darted between Asteria and Weasley, wondering which of them was going to flinch first. Weasley had pulled himself to his full height, which made him appear intimidating for the first time Draco could recall. Asteria, meanwhile, squared her shoulders and set her jaw with determination, her hands placed firmly on her hips. Time stopped as they stared each other down.

After several long seconds of the confrontation, Weasley huffed and shook his head.

"Fine. Five minutes," he ordered as he held up his hand then turned to the other Aurors. "You four can leave. Greengrass and I'll take him in."

"Yes, sir," said a round-faced Auror. He and the others turned and Disapparated away, leaving the three of them on the sidewalk.

"Go ahead," Weasley said with his arms crossed.

Draco couldn't believe his ears. He knew that Weasley was an uncouth pauper, but this was ridiculous.

"Not with you standing there gawking at us," Draco pointed out.

Asteria turned toward him. "I'll take care of it." She then took out her wand and glanced over at Weasley with a raised eyebrow.

"Go ahead. Just don't do anything disgusting."

Asteria waved her wand and whispered, "Muffliato. Okay, explain why the hell you risked your freedom to come out here?"

He took a step toward her and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

She furrowed her eyebrows at him and shook her head slightly. "What?"

With his cuffed hands, he took hers and held them tightly. "I'm sorry. I've never said it much in my life because I was always right before."

Asteria snorted and her gaze softened. He could have sworn there was a tear or two forming.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Weasley pretending to vomit; he couldn't hear, but he could see. Draco rolled his eyes and gave Weasley a two-finger salute.

"Oh that's mature, Draco," Asteria retorted. "But really funny." They both laughed like little kids.

"I'm serious. I didn't mean what I said back there. I was surprised, irritated and annoyed."

"I know."

"And I'd do it again, too."

"Why?" She began rubbing the side of his hand with her thumb, encouraging him with her touch. "What's the reason?"

He knew what he wanted to say, but not when they were standing in front of Ron Weasley with a time limit and his inevitable journey to prison. There would be no time with her, and she deserved that.

"Time's up!" came Weasley's voice and the spell was broken. "Sorry, Malfoy, but I've got to take you in." He grabbed Draco's hands and pulled him away from Asteria.

He nodded and took one last look at her.

"I love you, too, Draco," was the last thing he heard before Weasley took him away.

---

He lay on the uncomfortable cot in the cell, staring at the ceiling. Some time ago, he began counting the holes in the acoustical tile that lined the ceiling. He'd reached forty-two before he was interrupted by a guard bringing him his breakfast. That was an hour ago and he seriously considered beginning counting again.

Draco supposed he should be grateful that he was in a holding cell at the Ministry rather than in the expected cell in Azkaban. He'd once had nightmares about there being a cell marked 'Malfoy' specifically for him and his descendants, which sometimes made him laugh while scaring him to death at other times. Instead, he was in a well-lit, eight by eight room, lying on a cot rather than a cold floor and staring up at a ceiling, wondering how to occupy his time.

Rather abruptly, his thoughts drifted back to the previous night and Asteria. As he and Weasley were Disapparating, she'd confessed her feelings and voiced his own. Draco never thought that he would love anyone again as he did her, especially since Pansy.

Pansy Parkinson.

She hadn't been part of his life since the war ended. During that dreadful year at school, they'd become very close. She comforted him when he went into his dark spells, as she called them: times when he wouldn't speak to anyone and skived off classes on the pretence of being ill. She snuck up to his dormitory and took care of him, ignoring her own studies. Sometimes she would just lie next to him and hold him as he stared off into space. Sometimes, she would make love to him for hours. On those occasions, his mind was clear and he was focused on her rather than himself.

He told her loved her before the Easter holidays as they held each other in the dark. His roommates had long accepted and ignored her presence in his bed; it was the only time Draco was tolerable to both himself and others. She cooed those three words back to him, stroking his hair. They began planning their wedding, even though he hadn't asked her or even thought about marriage; they were still kids, pretty much. In those hours of peace, his heart softened and he allowed himself the promise of a future.

It was the Easter holidays that changed all that. That was when Potter and his sidekicks were dragged to his house. Draco knew that it was Potter from the moment he was thrust in his face. Despite his upbringing and his father's and aunt's mantra of protecting the wizarding bloodline, he lied to save Potter's life. It was at that moment when Draco knew he couldn't continue on the path that was laid out for him. Seeing someone, even if it was Granger, tortured like that was bound to make an impact. Unfortunately, his desire for self-preservation won over when he went into the Come and Go Room with Crabbe and Goyle and made him huddle in fear when everyone else was fighting.

Pansy wanted him to jump right back to the old Draco: proud, haughty and self-assured. But he just couldn't. He'd witnessed torture, allowed it, even, and saw people die right in front of him. When he had told her that he wasn't the same, that things had changed inside him, she had called him weak, stupid, cowardly, and pathetic. She had figuratively cut out his heart and ripped it to bits. Since then, he was wary of getting too close and letting himself be vulnerable.

That is, until her.

Asteria Phoebe Greengrass.

She was perhaps the best thing to come into his life. Whereas Pansy wanted someone she could coddle and take care of, Asteria gave him hell when he was being a stupid git and was fiercely independent. She didn't let him wallow in self-pity and called a spade a spade.

Draco sighed and turned onto his side. He didn't know when someone would come and see him, which he assumed would happen, whether it was to let him go or transfer him to Azkaban. He hadn't heard anyone else come down the corridor, so he indulged in daydreaming.

They arrived at his flat and she pressed him against the wall, melding her mouth with his and moaning deliciously. Her hands fumbled with the fly of his trousers as his went to work on the zip at the back of her dress. She spread the material and reached for his cock inside his pants, making Draco groan. As they continued to kiss, he pushed down her dress and ripped her tiny knickers.

"Fuck, Teri, you're so damned beautiful." He put his hands under the swell of her arse and lifted her while he turned so her back was against the wall.

"Liar." Asteria tugged at his cock and lifted her hips to align him with her entrance. With a swift thrust of his hips, he was inside her, slamming her against the wall while she panted as he thrust.

"Every...thing...about you," he grunted. The pressure built up inside his balls and his eyes began to roll back. It was always like this with her and it was fucking glorious.

"Damn, Draco...don't stop!" Asteria arched her back as she came and he dug his fingers into the ripe flesh of her bum.

With a howl, he released his load inside her before peppering her throat with kisses and sliding them down onto the floor.

Draco groaned as his erection strained against his trousers and felt a deep compulsion to reach inside and relieve the pressure. He was just about to lower the zip when footsteps and the jingling of keys came down the corridor.

"Get up, Malfoy," growled the portly guard. "You've got a meetin'." The man waved his wand, releasing the magical lock silently, then reached down and used a large silver key to unlock the cell door.

Draco rose from the cot and the guard grabbed his wrists while magical bonds wrapped tightly around them. In silence, the two of them walked along the grimy tile and into the lift. This particular one didn't have the cheery voice announcing the floors and when the doors slid open, Draco knew this was not going to be a fun time.

Standing outside the lift were Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"Thanks, Miles," Potter said to the guard, who nodded and returned to the lift. Potter took Draco by the arm, leading him into an office with Weasley close behind them.

"Sit," Weasley ordered, pushing him onto an empty chair roughly.

"I take it you're playing bad cop today, Weasley?" Draco said bitterly.

Potter sat down behind his messy desk and Draco took a moment to look it over; you could tell a lot about a man from his desk. Several quills were standing in a Holyhead Harpies mug. A pile of Ministry memos lay next to the quills, held down with a plaster handprint with the letters 'TRL' scraped into it. A toothpick frame held a picture of a little boy with bright purple hair between Potter and his wife; Draco felt a pang, realizing that the kid was his cousin's son. Next to the homemade frame was another photograph of Potter on his wedding day. The couple stared at each other before moving in for a deep, almost embarrassing kiss. The Daily Prophet lay on the corner of the desk with a steaming cup of coffee holding it down. In the middle of the desk blotter, the only clean spot on the desk was a blurry picture with a white and grey blob. He stared at it for a moment, wondering why the blob deserved such a prominent place on the desk.

"It's a sonogram," Potter said wistfully.

Draco lifted his head and saw Potter pick up the picture of the blob and smile. He handed over the picture and Draco looked down. It took him a moment before he realized it was a photo of a baby. Furrowing his brow, he looked up and saw Potter's face light up.

"It's..."

"My son." If it was possible, Potter's grin grew wider.

Draco pushed the son of gram back and sat back in the chair.

"I'd rather not hear you go on and on about your perfect life. I have a cell to get back to," Draco reminded him. Deep down, a twinge of jealousy flared up inside and he reverted to his guarded facade.

"Cut the crap, Malfoy," Weasley retorted from the left. "We're not here to send you to Azkaban or anything."

"Could have fooled me."

"Anyhow," Potter quickly stepped in, "we're here to discuss last night's little trip to Wanstead. You deliberately violated the terms of your agreement."

"I know that. I had my reasons."

Weasley snorted, earning him a scowl from both Draco and Potter. Weasley cleared his throat and muttered, "Sorry."

"Now, you left your prescribed boundary, correct?" Potter asked over the rim of his stupid glasses as he read a parchment.

"Correct."

"So you admit to wilfully breaking the conditions you agreed to on 17 October, 1998?"

"Yes," Draco answered. "And before you ask, it was personal. And I'll remind you that in my five years of restricted Apparition and Floo transport, I never once left the boundaries before, no matter how much I wanted to. I never complained during my quarterly evaluations and went along with every bloody detail you threw at me. So please forgive me for chasing after my girlfriend after having a row, oh Mighty Auror Potter."

Potter sustained his composure and ignored the statement."Ms. Greengrass informed us of the circumstances." He shuffled around in the file folder and withdrew another sheaf. "However, you did break the terms and must be censured."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Get on with it then."

"I hope you recall our conversation yesterday."

"How could I? It was the reason I went after her."

"You should know that she had nothing to do with the offer and the Ministry would be willing to waive your punishment if you were to take the job."

Draco's mouth dropped. "You're resorting to bribery now? That's pretty desperate, Potter."

"That's what I told him," interjected Weasley. "I'd rather work with Devil's Snare than work with you."

"Thanks," Draco quipped.

"Which is why Ron wouldn't be working with you," answered Potter quickly. "If you both would let me finish..." He glanced at the two of them with eyebrow raised, almost waiting for an interruption. "So, what's the answer?"

"What would I be doing exactly?" Draco's interest was piqued now. He was a Slytherin, after all, and even if it meant working with Potter; self-preservation was rather important.

"Investigating and infiltrating suspected cells and assisting in the capture of the suspects."

"Undercover? Spying? You're kidding."

"Well, you did know Snape rather well," pointed out Weasley in a much friendlier tone.

Draco turned to him. "And you think what? That he taught us Advanced Espionage in our free periods?"

"Dunno," Weasley shrugged. "Wasn't there seventh year. Don't know what went on."

"That's a bunch of bollocks, Weasley, and you know it. You Aurors poked your noses into everyone's business after it all." Draco took a deep breath and turned to Potter. "You spent half your life despising me and thinking the worst. And now, you want me working for you?"

Potter cleared his throat and leaned forward on the desk, looking straight at Draco. "I told you. You have skills that we need. You may not like sharing how you got through that year, that's fine. We want you to put your strengths to work for us. We haven't ignored you for the past five years. You've proved that in a less than desirable position—"

"Like at Gringotts," added Weasley.

"Yes," Potter answered. "In that position, you do your job and have actually impressed the goblins with your work ethic."

Draco was shocked. He thought they merely tolerated him.

"You adapt to each person you interact with, adjusting your approach to get the results both sides want. People have changed their perceptions after meeting you and are grateful for the work you have done. That's the kind of person we need. Someone who can think on his feet and sway someone's behaviour."

"Malfoy, he's right," added Weasley, who had dropped the bravado and actually sounded sincere. "As much as it kills me to admit it, we could really use you. Unless, of course, you want to work at Gringotts forever and be arrested every time you want to see Asteria."

"Let me get this straight," Draco said with much trepidation. "I work for the Ministry, I don't have to work with Weasley, I can Apparate and Floo wherever I want, and I have to play the bad guy while really being a good guy?" He looked from Potter to Weasley and back again.

"Pretty much it," Potter confirmed.

"Can I think about it? When do you need to know?" Draco would have liked to talk things over with Asteria, but he reckoned she'd already left for Luxembourg that morning.

"We need to know by tomorrow and you'd have to think about it in your cell. If you decline the offer, it's two months in Azkaban and another year of travel restrictions," Potter said.

Draco's temper flared. "You might've told me that beforehand, Potter!"

Potter snorted. "My mistake. I was hoping I didn't have to bring that up. I want you to take the job because you want it, not because you were faced with prison time."

"I'll get back to you by this evening."

"Not too late," Weasley stepped in. "I want to get home at a decent time."

Draco shivered to think what Weasley wanted to get home for.

"How about five? Early enough for you?" Draco looked at his watch; he'd have six hours alone to think things over.

"Sounds fine," Potter answered. He reached for a piece of parchment and began writing. Once finished, he tapped it with his wand and it shaped itself into a paper aeroplane and zoomed out of the office. "Miles will be up to get you."

"Wonderful," Draco answered with thick sarcasm. "He's such a pleasant bloke."

"Oi, he does his job. He doesn't have to be pleasant," said Weasley.

"So does that mean I won't have to be pleasant to you, Weaslebee?"

"I'd be your superior," Weasley answered with palpable pride.

"Only at work, Weasley, and don't you forget it."