It had started two months after completing the Auror academy, Harry had come face to face with Rodolphus Lestrange, while on his first mission. Rodolphus had made the first move, striking Harry across the chest with a stunner. Harry tried not to let his temper get away with him when the man spoke.
“How’s your boyfriend? All alone out there in his little London flat. Be a shame if something happened to his pretty blond face, and those pretty pink lips,” the man laughed, and Harry saw red. He didn’t remember killing the man, only that the next thing he knew, he was covered in blood, and Rodolphus was on the ground, dead. They’d been alone in the ramshackle hut Harry had tracked him down too. Harry swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe as the full extent of what he’d done hit him. He needed to do something. But what? Taking a deep breath, Harry did the only thing he could think of. Turning on his heel, Harry apparated to Draco’s flat and knocked on the door.
A moment later, Draco answered, wearing only flannel pajama bottoms, when he took in his boyfriend's appearance. “Harry?” for a long moment Harry was silent, as Draco pulled his boyfriend into the flat. “Who did this to you? Are you alright?” he demanded.
“It’s not mine,” Harry whispered.
Draco stared at him for a moment. “Wh—whose is it?” he asked.
“Rodolphus,” Harry replied. Draco nodded. He had never much cared for his masochistic uncle and he couldn’t say he was particularly upset about it.
“I see,” Draco nodded. “Right, want some ice-cream then?” Harry stared at his boyfriend.
“Didn’t you hear me? I just said I killed someone. Your uncle! And you’re asking about ice-cream?” Harry asked, incredulous. Draco merely smiled at his boyfriend.
“Would you rather have a full meal? I don’t think we should dispose of the body on an empty stomach, and I was just about to settle in with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie when you came in,” Draco said with a shrug.
“Dispose of the… Draco I’m an Auror!”
“Who killed a Death Eater. I really don’t see what the problem is.”
“You were a Death Eater.”
“I was acquitted thanks to a certain sexy Auror and savior of the wizarding world.”
“But,” Harry tried weakly.
“Harry, listen to me. Is this going to become a regular occurrence?” he asked.
“No,” Harry could barely look at his boyfriend, as the blond made his way over to him.
“Then let’s have something to eat, and dispose of the body, what else are Slytherin’s for? You didn’t leave him somewhere where he’d just be stumbled upon did you?” Draco asked, suddenly looking worried.
“No, he was in a hovel in Leeds,”
“Oh good, we could conceivably leave him there, let the Aurors sort him out, not like they’d ever investigate it.”
“What if they find my magical signature?”
“You didn’t kill him by hand? With all that blood I would have thought,” Harry shook his head, and Draco eyed him.
“Sectumsempra?” Harry cringed at the memory but shook his head.
“Then what the hell got so messy? We’re going to have to burn those clothes. Honestly, never send a Gryffindor to do a Slytherin’s job,” Draco said, holding out his hand. “Clothes off.”
Harry merely stared blankly at his boyfriend, before shucking off the clothes and handing them to the blond. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, I can pick up some lye from Sev’s old supply. Neville might have some man-eating plants we can borrow, I can’t believe how unprepared I am for hiding a body,” Draco admonished himself, as Harry merely stood in his pants and stared at his boyfriend who seemed to be taking the fact he’d just killed his uncle in stride. “Go get showered,” he said. “Get all the blood off of you, lord knows what that man was crawling with. I’ll dispose of the clothes,” he tossed the clothes into the fireplace and hit it with an incendio. The clothes burst into flame and Harry merely stared for a moment before Draco snapped in his direction and Harry ran to the bathroom, shaking somewhat as he showered.
By the time Harry had finished showering, Draco had managed to procure the necessary items, shrunken down in an indestructible bag, slung over his shoulder. “Right, let’s go,” he said. Harry nodded, apparating the two of them back to the shack where Harry had left the very dead Rodolphus. The black haired man was still laying on the ground in a pool of blood. Quickly, Draco set to work. With a series of spells, he’d managed to hack apart the body, feeding more useful bits to the man-eating plant, and dissolving the larger bits in a barrel of lye, he’d knicked from Severus’s old stores, while Harry merely watched in horrified fascination. A quick spell vanished the blood from the ground, and any trace of it, while another spell, vanished both of their magical signatures from the room upon their disapparating.
That night, Harry went to bed, wholly unsure how to feel about himself as he lay beside his boyfriend, who was sound asleep, totally unaffected by the events of the day. Harry had determined he would never again kill someone, even a Death Eater. Unfortunately for Harry, the mad-blood lust had caught up with him again. Not three months later, Harry had found himself once more with a dead Death Eater on his hands, apparating to Draco’s flat, covered in blood.
Draco merely sighed, as if he’d been expecting this, and waved Harry in. “You don’t seem surprised,” Harry said, calmer than he had been the first time. Draco laughed.
“My boyfriend the vigilante? You never did play by the rules so, no I’m not really surprised,” Draco said. “Who is it this time?”
“No one you know,” Harry replied smoothly. Draco nodded.
“I’ll get my equipment.” Since that first time, Draco had been more prepared for the eventuality that Harry would snap again it would seem. He now had several man-eating plants of questionable origin, more lye, and several barrel drums that contained powerful dissolving potions. “You should really consider wearing a more practical outfit if you’re going to be killing people,” Draco said.
“I’m not making a habit of this,” Harry argued. His boyfriend merely smiled.
“Of course not,” he said, and Harry didn’t like his sarcasm in this situation. Draco disposed of the body efficiently and Harry was definitely not turned on by his boyfriend’s ability to simply not question any of this.
Over the course of the next month, Harry frequently appeared on Draco’s doorstep needing assistance getting rid of a body, and Draco would help him, eagerly and without question.
Then, out of the blue, just before the New Year, Harry vanished for six weeks. Draco was nervous, half convinced his boyfriend was suddenly dead, he knew he hadn’t been arrested, that would have made headlines, and considering the deaths of random Death Eaters, and the occasional Muggle criminal hadn’t made much in the way of headlines, few had even noticed they were missing. Draco was starting to panic.
Bloody Potter, I’ll have to get rid of his body next. He thought bitterly.
It was nearing 1 AM when Draco heard a knock on his door, and he shot out of bed. Swallowing and barely allowing himself the hope, Draco opened the door. Harry, he thought with a grin, staring at his boyfriend. He hadn’t meant to stare but after a month and a half away, Harry had finally returned looking particularly haggard and Draco couldn’t help but stare. He ought to be used to this by now, he thought. Dating an Auror meant odd hours, and many nights away, but thus far this was the longest Harry had been away and Draco hated how nervous he felt.
“Malfoy,” Harry said, knocking Draco out of his thoughts. Draco eyed him, in his disheveled state, covered in blood.
“Is that blood?” Draco asked.
“No?” Harry replied, sarcastically.
“That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question Potter,” Draco spat.
“Why would you ask something so ridiculous.”
“Well let’s see. My boyfriend goes missing for six weeks and then turns up at one in the bloody morning, covered in blood, what am I supposed to think?” he demanded.
“Well you can stop worrying, and stop staring. I’m fine!”
“You don’t look fine,” Draco countered. It was true, Harry looked like shit. He was ashen, and covered in blood that Draco couldn’t be certain wasn’t at least a little bit Harry’s this time, given his complexion.
“Then stop looking.”
Draco sighed. “Potter I am, inexplicably I realize, your Healer, and your boyfriend. And you come to my flat, on my day off I might add, after NOTHING for six bloody weeks, dripping with blood, no visible cuts anywhere on your person, and you expect me not to stare? Forgive me I thought you’d died.”
Harry frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Can you help me?”
Draco eyed him, “You know I can.”
“Will you help me?” he amended. Draco sighed.
“Get rid of the body or provide an alibi?” Draco asked. It was a fairly common question all things considered.
“Both,” Harry replied. Draco sighed shaking his head.
“It’s a good job I’m a Slytherin. Who is it you’ve killed this time?”
Harry smiled at his boyfriend, “No one you know,” he replied. Draco nodded. It never was anymore. Voldemort’s followers, even three years after the war were still fairly numerous, and a rash of neo-Death Eaters had started cropping up, and wreaking havoc, leading to an outbreak of Muggle injuries or deaths, thus Harry had begun working overtime on his new hobby. Draco had never really asked much about who specifically Harry was killing anymore. If they were Death Eaters, Draco didn’t recognize them by the time Harry got done with them, and if they weren’t, well, the less Draco knew the better.
Not that Draco worried Harry would get caught. Harry was the poster child for the post-War Ministry and the face of the new DMLE. He was an upstanding citizen, and the savior of the Wizarding World, not to mention a well respected Auror. Even if the DMLE had any desire to investigate the few Death Eater deaths they knew of, (and they wouldn’t) Harry would never have been a suspect. Their deaths were too clean, too well executed. Harry was getting better at covering his tracks even without Draco’s help.
Draco was impressed. “I’ll get my tools,” he said as he disappeared into his flat. “Try not to track blood all over the wood floors, I’ve just waxed them,” he said.
“Of course,” Harry replied as he stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind him.
Draco hummed to himself as he gathered the necessary tools, as Harry smiled watching him. “Given your penchant for killing Death Eaters, should I be worried?” Draco asked.
“I only seem to kill the ones who actually killed people themselves,” Harry said. "To my knowledge, you did not." Draco nodded and made his way towards his boyfriend still in the midst of their living room. Draco kissed his boyfriend’s lips, softly.
“I only ask because I’d like to know what’s coming. I’m not really a fan of surprises.”
“How would I hide the bodies if I killed you?” Harry joked. Draco smirked.
“You know all my tricks. I imagine you’d find a way.” Harry waved him off.
“I promise. I’m not going to kill you.”
Draco sighed. “Well, I promise you this Harry Potter, if you go missing again like that, I will kill you.” Harry nodded, as the two disapparated to deal with Harry’s latest project.