Summary: Draco Malfoy, shunned by the masses and turned away from the Aurors more times than he'd care to admit, is taking out remnants of the Dark Lord's fan club himself – by being the best assassin money can buy. When the stone-cold killer happens upon a body lying in the alley, however, he can't leave the man for dead. When the man turns out to be Harry Potter, he does what anyone in his position would do – he brings him home.
Word Count: ~21K
I can't believe I have never gushed about this delightful story. It is even written by one of the best ever H/D writers. It is also my dracotopsharry prompt from the last fest. I adore the way she wrote Draco, he was all things brilliant. Cold blooded, yet sweet and kind when he needed to be. Their banter was fun and engaging to read, she has a way of writting them the words just flow.
Harry and Draco needed each other and I always have a soft spot for H/C stories. (Draco makes a sexy assasin)...Do yourself a favour and read this asap you will be so happy you did. :D
He Levitated Potter to the spare bedroom and laid him on the bed. He tried to shake away thoughts he hadn't had for some time. Thoughts of Potter in his bed, but under much different circumstances. He'd thought the fantasies he'd had back then were in response to Potter saving him from the Fiendfyre -- hero worship and all that business. After a few of his more racy fantasies had seen him wanking to images of Potter beneath him, begging for Draco to fuck him harder and faster, Draco had forced himself to push them aside. He may be many things, but a masochist he was not. He knew nothing could ever happen between him and Potter, so he'd satisfied his needs with other men, real rather than imagined, men who didn't detest the mere thought of him. But now, with Potter here, in his home, he couldn't prevent those feelings flooding back.
As Draco willed himself to think about how much he'd hated Potter in school, he found himself less irritated by memories of Potter catching the Snitch than fascinated by how Potter looked atop his Firebolt. Feelings of jealousy over Potter participating in the Triwizard Tournament were replaced by interest in the man who, as a boy, was able to successfully dodge a dragon chasing him. Image after image appeared before Draco's eyes, only to morph into something he couldn't say was memory, but rather wishful thinking.