Disclaimer: I do not or never will own Harry Potter or any of the other characters you might find in this little wonder. It's all JK's and I'll kindly leave the real stuff to her. ^_^

This is obviously meant to be a longer fic. I started it out intending it to be a one shot but silly me, I just can't contain myself in 1,000 words or less. So, excuse me if it gets crack toward the end. (teehee... i couldn't stand the build up anymore...)

Liberation

When the lights went out, Harry rolled over to face the wall. Tonight wasn't a night to satisfy Ginny. At least it was lucky she was too tired to even cuddle tonight. Flying with the Harpees was beginning to become a strain. Emotionally and physically between her and Harry. To be completely honest, Harry took it as a blessing. Between his work as an auror and hers in Quidditch, they barely had any time to spend together, let alone with their kids. When Ginny had suggested she retire from the Harpees, Harry restrained his disappointment. And it wasn't because he thought she was too good a player for the team to lose. In fact, he was afraid of her finding out who he was.

Harry had undoubtedly changed within his ten years of marriage. Their children he saw as a triple blessing. But they had been products of a love and era that had long passed, whether Ginny was aware of it or not.

Only Ron and Hermione knew of his deepest secrets. Quite frankly, Hermione, although sympathetic, was appalled. If he was no longer happy with Ginny, he should at least have the common decency to try to communicate with her, not shut her out in favour of someone else.

In fact, that previous comment concerning Harry's work was a lie. In truth, when all this mess happened, he'd been demoted to a simple desk job. He'd been slacking off and neglecting his case missions. And for what? Well… You'll barely believe me when I tell you.

Draco Malfoy.

That's right. Draco Malfoy had been his downfall. But no more did he cause Harry's downfall than he gave him liberation. Harry had once upon a time been assigned a case defending Malfoy from his father, freshly escaped from Azkaban. Of course, there was little motivation for Lucius Malfoy now that his Dark Lord was long gone. He still had some semblance of hope coming home to a family in the very least. What he did come home to were two blood traitors, including a son who had quite deliberately divorced his pureblood wife after the briefest of marriages.

Harry had received the memo that said Draco Malfoy was in need of a body guard of sorts. He'd initially considered handing it off to another auror on more neutral terms with the man. A last minute impulsive decision had him take it on instead, in hopes of mending a relationship that had long been broken by the decisions made by the sorting hat seventeen years ago. Had Harry chosen Malfoy over Ron the day of the sorting ceremony, this rivalry would hardly have existed. Perhaps they'd be on much better terms with one another.

The day he started his mission was the day he was going to test this theory; change what could not be undone.

Harry apparated to a secluded alleyway near to what appeared to be a muggle apartment complex where he would find Malfoy's address. Surprised beyond belief that Malfoy of all people would choose to live in a muggle neighbourhood, he hesitated before ascending the wrought iron staircase toward number seven. He considered briefly that this might be a trap- that Draco Malfoy would rather get trampled to death by a stampede of angry hyppogriffs before he be caught living as a money starved muggle. He mulled this theory over for some time before making up his mind with a bemused shrug. It couldn't be that bad, whatever the ferret might be plotting.

He knocked.

Beyond the door, a man with silvery blond hair and sharp, thin, slightly predatory facial features peaked through the peep hole of the thick front door. With a pitiful sneer, he reached for the various chain locks on the door with an enthusiastic tug in order to greet his visitor.

"Potter," he addressed the man with deeply disheveled jet black hair looking more than a little lost, standing on his doorstep. Harry Potter pushed his rounded spectacles further up the bridge of his nose.

"Malfoy," Harry sniffed, attempting to keep the closest form of professionalism in his voice. "I hear Death Eaters are after you?"

"No, not in the slightest, Potter," Malfoy muttered in a bored fashion, leaning lazily against the door jamb. "Just my father, I'm afraid. He wouldn't be capable of summoning any of the Dark Lord's old supporters to aid him; they're either dead, brain dead in Azkaban or far from trusting Lucius as a competent leader. I'd go as far as to say you're wasting your time, Potter."

"I think I can make that judgment for myself, thanks, Malfoy," Harry scowled distastefully, having fully expected this sort of snarky comment from the blond. Of all the nerve. "After all, you were the one who sent me over here, you know."

"I don't think you understand my situation, Potter," Malfoy sneered, running long, elegant fingers through his hair, causing gleams of light to cascade, gold from his aristocratic silvery locks. "You see, I didn't request your service for protection. I think you'll find I need you for quite a different reason," he smirked as he said it, running his free hand sensuously up and down the doorjamb.

Harry gulped at this, hoping Malfoy didn't mean what he thought he meant, although Malfoy's somewhat provocative position in the doorway told a different story. His mouth went dry and he licked his lips as he watched Malfoy gazing at him as if he were a succulent dessert he just had to get his hands on. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry wondered what kind of sick joke Malfoy was trying to pull here. Whatever it was, wasn't funny. At all.

"Oh Potter," the silver tongued former Slytherin prince purred, slithering an arm up and around Harry's neck to pull him toward him into his home. "You have no idea how long I have yearned for this very moment." He closed the door, slamming Harry up against it.

Harry's head hit wood and it occurred to him that perhaps now would be the time to draw his wand. "I… um…" Harry fumbled helplessly. "You do realize I'm married, don't you?" he begged as Malfoy's hands departed from his neck to more inventive places. His breathing hitched as those slender hands roamed.

"Does it look like I'd care about something as trivial as that?" Malfoy smirked, raising an emmaculate brow. "All I want is you for as long as I pay for and the Weaslette will never have to know."

Harry's lips quivered. "But… I love Ginny!" he exclaimed, more weakly than he intended.

Malfoy forced a laugh. "Don't fool yourself, Potter. Not even you believe that any more. You just need…" he trailed off as his clawlike hands clamped forcedly onto Harry's increasingly tensing crotch. Harry let out a yelp of surprise, both at the deft gesture and the blood beginning to pool low in his groin. He bucked.

"…release."