HEY! THIS IS A SEQUEL! DON'T READ UNLESS YOU'VE READ THE FIRST BOOK IN THE SERIES CALLLED 10-4! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

10-22: Disregard

Harry stared at the counter. Blood stained Draco's hands, the bullet casing landing on the marble counter with a metallic clink that seemed to echo throughout the entire house, the thud of Ryan's wand landing shortly after. 

Harry could hear his heartbeat between his ears as he stared at the two objects, not even looking up at Draco as he spoke. "Draco, you- you didn't-"

"I did, yes," Draco replied, his voice cold and even. "You don't have to go back now. You can do whatever you want. Do you want these or can I get rid of them? They're technically evidence, so I'd burn them I were you."

Harry stared for several long moments before carefully picking up the two items, hands shaking. "He's... Dead. He's really dead?"

"Yes."

"You killed him?"

"Yes."

"For me?"

"Of course."

Harry swallowed. "I should feel like shit right now. But I'm... I'm happy."

"Of course you are. He'd been- Well, he'd not been kind."

"Yeah but... He's dead."

"And going to hell, like he deserves. Don't fret about it. There's no evidence and me and Scorpius are your alibis."

Harry blinked at the items in his hand, tears welling up in his eyes, before he finally let out the sob that had been building up as he threw his arms around the back of Draco's neck, holding him close. "Thank you, Draco. Thank you. You've saved me."

"I'm a cop. That's my job."

Draco hugged him back, though his hands never touched Harry, and he quickly realized that it was because of the blood. "Don't worry Harry. I've got you. You're safe."

Harry allowed himself to be held for a few moments longer before pulling away, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hands. "You should go shower. You smell like blood."

Draco frowned at his hands, glancing at the bullet and wand on the counter. "I suppose I do. Alright. There's a spare bedroom upstairs, second door on the right. My bedroom is the first on the left- if you want a change of clothes, just get into my dresser."

"Okay. Thank you again Draco."

Draco simply nodded curtly, his expression the same stoic frown it had been since he'd walked in on him and Scorpius playing Uno, as he left for what Harry presumed to be the bathroom.

Harry took a deep breath, looking down at the wand and bullet casing on the counter, thoughts running through his head at a million miles an hour. Dead. Draco killed someone. Shot somebody. 

He was a cop, Harry supposed- he'd probably killed before, and definitely shot people. How long did Draco say he was a cop for?

Harry couldn't remember, but he knew this used to be a bad neighborhood- Ron and Hermione hated moving here to take care of Hermione's parents because they were scared of the gangs and crime that ran rampant, but the crime had gone down drastically since it was last reported on and Ron and Hermione felt much better about moving in. That was before they knew that Draco was part of the law enforcement. 

Harry took another deep breath, casting an incendio on both the wand and bullet, until the wand turned to ash and the bullet melted into an unrecognizable puddle, careful to make sure he didn't do any damage to Draco's counter. 

For fucks sake. 

How did he get mixed up with Draco Malfoy again?

And why did the thought of Draco killing someone not make him uneasy?

He sighed, swiping the ashes into the trash. He didn't know how he was supposed to tell Ron or Hermione, or where he was going to go.

He heard the sound of the shower starting upstairs and glanced up the stairs. After a few moments, he decided to go see Scorpius. He climbed the steps, looking around the rooms at the top of the stairs. The door to the right had a light shining from under the door, and he could hear the sound of water hitting the tile from beyond it. 

"Scorpius?" Harry called, just quiet enough that Draco wouldn't be able to hear it from within the shower. 

A small version of Draco popped it's head out from the second door on the left, and Harry smiled slightly. "Hi Score. Just wondering if you needed any help with your homework while your dad showered."

Harry walked over to Scorpius, who looked uneasy. He didn't say anything, but grabbed Harry's hand and tugged him toward his room, making Harry stumble for a second before dutifully following the young, six year old kid into his room.

"Daddy got icy," Scorpius spoke, his fingers drumming on his desk mechanically. "Icy means daddy got someone, but daddy didn't work today."

"Icy?"

"He looks icy, doesn't he? That's why he showers after. To warm up. And not be icy."

"After... After what?" Harry questioned, feeling a bit nervous. This was supposed to be calming him down, but it was doing the opposite.

Scorpius leveled him with a stare that was so serious that Harry almost couldn't believe the kid was only six. "When he takes someone, and the someone goes away. Forever. He got someone today, didn't he?"

Harry swallowed thickly. "Scorpius, I don't..."

"Please," Scorpius pleaded softly. "Daddy doesn't talk to me about work."

"That's because his work is scary, Scorp," Harry sighed. "I don't think you should be worrying about it. You're still a kid."

Scorpius chewed his bottom lip, still frowning deeply. "But daddy gets icy," he protested softly. "I don't like it when daddy gets icy."

"I'll talk to him about it, okay? How does that sound?" Harry wanted to comfort the kid through a hug or something, but knew that Scorpius didn't react well to being touched as a form of comfort, so settled for just trying to smile and be authentic. "We'll try to make sure he stays warm as possible."

Scorpius, still gnawing at his bottom lip, slowly nodded. "I am tired. I'm going to lay down."

"Okay Scorp. Anything I can get you before bed?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Harry left the room, closing the door most of the way but leaving the light on for Scorpius to turn off when he felt like it. He sighed, and jumped slightly when the bathroom door creaked open and Draco stepped out into the hall, steam billowing out around him. 

He glanced between Scorpius' door and Harry a few times, frowning. "Is he okay?"

"He's... Okay. A bit upset, but he said he's going to bed."

Draco nodded slowly. "What's he upset about?"

Harry followed Draco upstairs before he began to talk. "He's worried about you getting... Icy. I think he knows when you... When you kill someone, and it bothers him."

"Unfortunately, it's part of my job," Draco answered easily, frowning. He was wearing simple linen drawstring pants and a thin white t-shirt as he retrieved an empty glass, placing two ice cubes in the bottom. "Drink?" He then asked, holding up some honey whiskey. 

Harry only hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I need it."

Draco got another glass. "Ice or no?"

"No, thank you."

Draco filled the glass about a quarter full of the amber liquid, sliding it over to Harry before filling his own glass about halfway and knocking it back as if it were a shot, leaving only small traces clinging to the slowly melting ice cubes. He shuddered slightly, then filled it back up while Harry stared at his own drink, swirling it in the glass before taking a sip. It was bitter, but at the same time, surprisingly easy to go down. 

"Don't you have to bring Scorpius to school tomorrow?" Harry spoke nervously, watching as Draco continued to empty his second drink.

"Are you a wizard or not? There are hang-over cures everywhere." Draco leaned back against his fridge, tilting his head back against the stainless steel surface. "Right now, I want to get wasted."

Harry sighed and, reluctantly, agreed. Getting drunk and forgetting about the entire day seemed like a perfect plan for right now.

Which was how Draco ended up half-hanging over the couch, stumbling as he planted his arse down on the cushion, which he almost ripped of the couch in the process, cursing. "Fuck. I'm drunk. Are you drunk?"

Harry hiccupped and gave a slight nod. "Tipsy."

"Not enough alcohol. Here, finish my drink," Draco demanded, shoving his drink into Harry's hand. He shrugged and obediently downed the drink, coughing a little as he plopped down next to Malfoy, their knees bumping together. "What are you gonna tell Ron and Mione?" Draco asked, looking over at Harry, his eyes wide and pupils blown. "About R-Ryan?"

"I don't know. I have to tell them about... What he was like. I know that much. But... I don't even know where I'm going to go. I don't want to intrude on their lives, I suppose I could get an apartment but-"

"No, you won't" Draco interjected, still slurring his words, despite sounding so defiant. "You'll stay here. With me 'n Scorp. Scorp likes you. I like you. I have an extra room. We can... We can go out. Get you new things. Yeah?" 

Harry found this outrageously funny for some reason- Draco Malfoy? Offering Harry to live in his apartment?- And burst into laughter, leaning into Draco as he did so. Oh, he was definitely a bit more than tipsy. 

"That's outrageous," Harry gasped between bits of laughter. "Merlin, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, getting along! Living together!"

Then Draco started snickering too, leaning back against Harry with a shoving motion. "It does sound quite silly. But I'm serious. You should stay. We can... Me you and Scorp... We can go shopping. Get you things for your room, get the food you like, anything." Draco sounded sort of desperate, and on the verge of begging. 

"Maybe," Harry conceded, finally done laughing and now wiping the tears from his eyes. "Maybe I'll stay."

"How can I convince you?" Draco asked, his voice beyond serious as he leaned in toward Harry, flicking his tongue out to wet his bottom lip. "I'll do anything."

Maybe it was the tone of his voice, so deep and serious, or the desperate expression on his face, or the way he wet his bottom lip, or the smoldering mercury color of his eyes, but Harry found himself leaning forward and trapping Malfoy's face between his hands and kissing like he'd never kissed before. 

Draco let out a soft surprised noise that quickly settled into a low moan, leaning forward into Harry as lips, spiced with whiskey, pressed and separated, tongues quickly joining the mix, so overly wet from their mouths trying to compensate for the spice and dryness of the whiskey but so fucking perfect. Harry didn't even find the wet noises coming from their mouths off-putting as he normally would.

Draco pushed Harry back slightly, which was all he needed to drunkenly fall onto his back with his legs spread open, tugging Draco on top of him. The blond groaned as he laid on top of Harry, rolling his hips down against Harry's. Draco was only half-hard while Harry was nearly about to burst. 

"Draco," Harry groaned, pulling the blond closer. "Fuck, I'm- Oh..."

Draco quickly withdrew, pulling at the button and zip of Harry's trousers with one hand. When he finally got them open, he didn't bother pushing them any further down than around the middle of his arse, instead just pulling Harry's swollen cock out of his pants and squeezing, hard. 

Harry's back arched and he cried out, his hips trying to jump to get some friction, but at the same time he was so drunk he wasn't sure how to even move his hips right.

Draco didn't seem to mind, though, and moved his hand along Harry's length, holding his hips down so that Harry would no longer try to mindlessly move. 

"Oh, Draco," Harry groaned, throwing his head back into the couch cushions. "Oh, fuck, please-"

"So fuckin' hot," Draco muttered, watching Harry's prick with morbid fascination. "You're... fuck..."

Harry moaned in agreement to whatever the fuck Draco was saying, so close to the edge he could hardly see, yet alone understand words. 

"Draco, Draco, I'm- Oh, fuck!"

Harry's back arched spectacularly off the couch as he came, cum shooting out a few ropes before simply drooling down the side of his prick with each pulsation of his orgasm, watching the white, sticky liquid drip down Draco's perfect fingers, which were still rocking minutely against Harry's shaft. The blond's face was nothing short of pure awe, as if he'd never seen such a person as Harry before.

"Oh, god, you're so hot," Draco groaned, taking the hand that was covered in Harry's cum and frantically undoing his own pants with his clean hand.

He cursed when he struggled a bit, but finally got it and shoved his sullied hand down his pants and arching into his own touch, throwing his head back against the couch with his mouth hanging open, eyes fluttering shut.

Harry could hear the wet, squelching noises and tiredly pushed himself up into a sitting position so he could see easier; watching Draco's hand flying up and down his prick while using Harry's cum as lubrication. It had to be the hottest thing Harry had ever seen.

He, however, quickly corrected himself that Draco's orgasm face was the hottest thing Harry had seen, all lax and half-lidded and his expression both screaming out in pleasure while being most nonchalant thing Harry had ever seen. 

Harry collapsed forward, onto Draco, to kiss him, not even caring that they were both sweaty and sticky with cum, listening to the blond's pleased hums as he licked his way into Harry's mouth.

Draco eventually, somehow, despite his drunken state, managed to get a cleaning charm cast on the both of them and their pants done up before collapsing back against the couch, panting heavily and staring straight ahead. 

"I feel like that was probably really stupid."

Harry sighed, also out of breath, staring in a similar manner at the wall across from the couch. "Probably. We're drunk. It's fine. Right? Just don't act weird on me tomorrow, even if you do regret it."

Draco rolled his head against the cushion to look over at Harry. "I'd do far stupider things for you, Harry, and I'd never regret it for a second."

"You make it sound like you fancy me," Harry said, intending for it to be a joke. 

"I did," Draco replied instead, and Harry blinked at him blankly. Draco grinned. "During school. Head over heels obsessed."

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked, his mouth suddenly going dry.

"Because I want to tell you, even if we don't remember it tomorrow."

"I'm not that drunk."

"It has nothing to do with drunken-ness, Harry," Draco spoke, shaking his head. "I'm going to obliviate us."

Harry recoiled. "What? Why on Earth-?"

Draco smiled sadly, his eyes unable to clearly focus on Harry. "Because this is a bad start for us, don't you think? If we're going to do this, I want to do it properly. Not drunk while we're mourning our own losses. I want to make you fall in love with me."

"You can't take back that it's done," Harry spoke weakly, his voice breaking slightly. "It's too late."

"Is it really done if neither of us can remember?" Draco asked, eyes raking over Harry's expression. "If no one knows, how could it have happened?"

"Draco, this isn't- Obliviate doesn't-"

"Sorry," Draco apologized, not sounding all too sorry as he held up his wand and whispered 'obliviate'.