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[saeva.livejournal.com]

Title: The Thin Ice - In the Flesh, One of My Turns, The Trial, Outside the Wall.
Author: Saeva/Andrea.
Pairing: Harry/Draco.
Rating: PG-13 (for language).
Summary: Life often doesn't turn out how you meant it to.
Challenge: Harry/Draco. Post-Hogwarts. Fluff preferred.
Link:

1. In the Flesh

"Potter."

Harry groaned, burying his face in the pillow. Not *this* again. He didn't have the energy for this, after a fourteen hour shift that had turned into a wild goose chase for dark wizards. And Draco only ever used that tone with his surname when The Rant was coming. Again. For what had to be the 1, 895th time. Perhaps he should start keeping a count.

"Don't ignore me! I have a complaint!"

"I'm not ignoring you, I'm sleeping," Harry said. Or at least, that's what he meant to say. With his face buried in the pillow it came out more like 'M ought ickoring ewe, 'm eeping.'

Either Draco understood and didn't believe him or he intended to continue regardless of what Harry had said.

"I'm sick of you working nights."

Harry thought it was the latter.

The pillow was hot and damp against his face now and he had to move or he wouldn't be able to get fresh air; he knew, though, from experience that as soon as he moved, Draco would strike and The Rant would begin. He stayed as still as possible, taking shallow breaths and started to shift his head just slightly. If he was lu --

"I know you're awake." Draco stomped -- that was the best word for it -- over in ridiculously expensive shoes that he insisted on having despite the fact that he could get the same for half the price if he didn't insist of them being custom-made and pulled the duvet away from Harry, allowing the bright sunlight from the window to invade his eyes despite his shut eye lids.

Harry cringed. It was too bloody late to be faced with sunshine and a storming Draco Malfoy.

"See, I knew it!" Draco crowed triumphantly, sitting down on the bed next to Harry, who was rapidly trying to curl the fuck away from the sun. "Now, as I was saying, this working nights schedule has to stop."

"Aren't you going to be late for work?" Harry mumbled, hoping it were true and he could get back to sleeping.

"No. No. I have plenty of time. And stop trying to distract me, I was ranting."

"Whinging."

"Ranting."

"Whinging."

"Ranting!" He stomped his foot again.

Sometimes, Harry wondered why he put up with Draco Malfoy.

It wasn't the sex. Well, the sex was good, very good. Draco screamed very nicely and begged for more -- it was the only time Harry thought he'd ever, ever see Draco beg for anything -- and even when they weren't having sex like *that* it was good. But it wasn't the sex. It'd be easier -- and cheaper -- to find a high-end rent boy if Harry wanted sex like that, for god's sake. So, right, it wasn't the sex.

He wasn't even certain if it was the company, half the time. Draco was whingy, temperamental, childish, and generally pouted when he didn't get his way. Of course, Harry had known that from the first day he met Draco, so it was hardly news. He didn't play well with others, including Harry's friends. Ron regularly asked, and Harry could quote by now -- including volume, pitch, and intonation -- 'why the bloody hell do you stay with that git and have you gone barmy?' but little else could be expected of Ron. Ron and Draco bickered like children when they were in the same room, which, Harry had to admit, was amusing. Amusing enough he, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna had a pool running about who used what sort of insult first, or drew wands, or resorted to physical violence. Usually, Draco was the safe bet on everything but fists. So, it wasn't the company.

More than once, in the aggravating, I-know-absolutely-everything-there-ever-has-been-to-know tone that she had, Hermione had suggested that Harry kept up his relationship with Draco -- that had started with too much fire whiskey and revenge sex one night -- because it amused him, whereas someone he actually had things in common with and could go a day without having a row with would bore him within weeks. Not that Harry had ever tried that theory. He wasn't one much for committed relationships and hadn't been since leaving Hogwarts -- right after Susan Bones decided to rip out his heart and stomp on it (Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal, for god's sake!) -- nearly four years ago now.

He wouldn't call what he had with Draco committed -- or a relationship.

His hand went up automatically as Draco was about to smack him upside the head. "Hey!"

"You weren't listening to me! I can tell. Your eyes were unfocused."

Harry raised his eyebrows and repeated the last thing Draco had most likely said. He couldn't be certain, but Draco rarely changed The Rant around very much.

Draco pouted and ruffled his hair as though it were made of feathers and Harry had upset his perch. "Fine."

He couldn't help it, he laughed. "Are you done then? I made you breakfast, it's on the table."

Draco glared down at him, making wide gestures with hands as he spoke. "No. I'm still upset at you. I hate that you work nights. We don't even have time to shag anymore."

Oh. That explained why The Rant had been more frequent. Draco was sick of wanking and too lazy to pick someone up.

"Well, I'm beat. Afraid I can't help you there. When you come home from work?"

"You'll already be gone to work by then, like normal." Draco was definitely pouting now, save the fact his bottom lip wasn't stuck out. He drew his legs to his chest, staring down at Harry.

With that, it finally dawned on Harry that Draco was really upset about this.

Harry turned over onto his back and stretched out, his shirt riding up on his stomach so that his skin was warmed by the sun. After realising he wasn't going to be sleeping until this was resolved, he asked, "Why are you even upset about this, Draco?"

"What?" Obviously Draco didn't expect Harry to actually be involved in the row. Maybe he just liked to hear himself talk.

"Why are you upset about this? We're sharing a flat, all right, but it's convenience more than anything." It was Harry's flat, anyway. Draco didn't pay board at all, actually, but Harry never really expected him to, after the number the Ministry had done on the Malfoy accounts. He still had money, but not enough that he could get away with not working.

"Living with *you* is not convenient."

He glared at Draco. "You can move out any time you want; I'm hardly holding you prisoner."

"Who said I wanted to move out? I was merely pointing out that living with you isn't easy. Honestly. You're always forgetting to clean up after yourself and refuse to get a house-elf even though mine offered to work for you, you work *nights* which I hate, your annoying Weasel is over half the time when you are here and not sleeping -- doesn't he have a job or something? -- as well as that... Granger, and you snore!" As Draco spoke, he ticked off each thing on his fingers.

"Dobby is not your house-elf." Harry sat up so that he could glare at Draco more evenly. "Like I said, you don't have to be here if I annoy you that much. In fact, why did you move in? It's not as if we're in a relationship; you're just a fuck."

Draco stopped suddenly, even as he opened his mouth to retort, and blinked at Harry once and then twice. Then suddenly he jumped off the bed, his shoe soles thudding against the wood-panelled floor, and stalked over to the cupboard. His shoulders were stiff and when he turned, Harry could see that his jaw was clenched.

"What are you doing?"

"Fine, if you don't want me here then I'll be gone. You'll never see this 'fuck' again. I'm through playing your sex toy, which is obviously all you see me as, you stupid bastard!" he snarled, slamming doors opened and closed as he first collected his suitcases and then started spelling his clothing and belongings into them.

Harry groaned. "You're overreacting."

Draco turned on his heel and sneered at Harry, his hand clenched tightly around his wand. His other hand was in a fist and stuck tightly to his side. "Shut it, Potter!"

Sighing, he moved out of the bed, hissing at how cold the floor was against his feet. He had a feeling the sunny morning wouldn't last very long, but when did weather ever in England. Draco had turned back around and was furiously throwing things -- just throwing, no magic involved -- into his bags with no order, muttering under his breath. Harry heard the words 'bloody eunich when I'm done with him' clearly and drew his legs together, stopping where he stood.

"You're really overreacting. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Overreacting? Overreacting to you, for all that you didn't 'mean anything by it,'" he sneered as he said that, "saying I was just a bloody sex toy! Next you'll be calling me a rent boy!" Draco was obviously deeply offended by that, for some reason. Funny, Harry figured Lucius used those sort of boys all the time before ending up locked tightly in Azkaban.

And it wasn't as if that was what he had meant either. "That's not what I said."

"You said that I'm 'just a fuck.' That we're not in a relationship and I'm just a fuck." The last three words were enunciated clearly, Draco's voice growing quieter with each one. He wasn't looking at Harry, but instead staring at the wall off to the side of Harry's hip, his jaw clenched and his mouth pursed.

All right. He had said it. There was no denying that then. "I was angry?" he tried.

Draco made a noise that sounded just like an angry dragon and threw the shoe he was holding at Harry's head, looking at him for the first time since Harry had made the comment. His eyes were angry and gave off the impression of flashing like they always did when Draco was very angry, which Harry had always found odd. "Get the fuck out and let me pack in peace!"

"It's my room."

"And you're lucky I'm not going to demolish before I go. Probably. Now, get out."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes! GET OUT!" Draco's cheek were bright red and he stomped his foot again as he spoke, before raising his wand.

"No! Stop acting like this!" Harry shouted, grabbing Draco and pushing him back against the cupboard door. His hand was around Draco's wrist and twisting it before he could get a hex out and he dropped his wand.

"Let go of me right now or I will fucking kill you," Draco hissed.

"For god's sake, calm down, Draco, and stop acting like a bloody child."

"I am not ACTING LIKE A CHILD!" He struggled against Harry's hold, trying to punch him or reach his wand, but though they were the same height, Harry had more muscle and years of physical training on his side.

"Maybe I'd believe you if you could go ten words without screaming at me."

"I'm just doing that because you're a sodding bastard who deserved his balls hexed off." Draco spat out the words and jerked against Harry's hands, trying to pull his wrist free.

Harry sighed and leaned against Draco's wrists as a particularly violent jerk nearly made him lose his grip. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, looking at Draco's face. Draco had overreacting to an innocent comment, but maybe it wasn't *all* his fault. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"What I want to hear is the sound of the door hitting your face on my way out." Slowly, his breathing started to calm down and he stopped struggling though, so Harry thought the worst of it might be over. As he stilled, his shoulders stumped slightly and he shut his eyes, leaning back against the cupboard.

When Draco had stood there calmly for nearly a minute, Harry released the other man's wrists.

And was promptly sucker punched.

"That works too," Draco commented at Harry's groan.

Fucking twat. Fucking melodramatic twat. Harry straightened and glared at him. "Better?"

"Yes." He didn't sound delighted, though, as Harry expected, just upset.

"Good. I'll be in bed." He walked over. Bloody hell, Draco could punch harder than he should be able to.

When he had laid down and stretched out, hand still protectively over his stomach, Draco walked over and looked down at him, frowning slightly. Harry thought it might even be concern. "D'you want breakfast in bed then?"

Right now he wanted dinner to stay down. He glared.

Draco's jaw was set in a firm line, in that stubborn way he had, but he was looking at Harry's chest instead of face, so Harry didn't think the screaming was going to start up again. Good. He didn't know if he could take it. "I'm not going to apologise, if that's what you're thinking. You deserved it."

And Draco Malfoy definitely deserved to be smacked upside the head. A few dozen times.

"I take it you're not moving out then."

"Oh, no. I rather like it here. The view's positively brilliant and the rent is cheap." Draco grinned cheekily.

Harry groaned. If Draco was a sex toy, he certainly wasn't a cheap one. Not that he was. That wasn't what Harry had meant. It's just... they weren't in a relationship, really. He was fairly certain you had to talk about it to be in a relationship and, unlike Susan, Draco, thankfully, never wanted to talk about it.

Draco leaned over and kissed him before pulling away. "I still want to talk about this job thing."

Oh, for god's sake. He made up for it but wanting to talk about everything else though.

"Now, I have to be at work." He made a face. "I'll see you tonight if I catch you." Looking around, he found his wand and his briefcase, grabbing both. "I'll clean this up when I get home."

Harry watched him, glancing about the room and how out of skew it seemed with Draco's things not in their rightful place. He sighed. Draco had nearly walked out today because of a stupid argument. At least that was something Harry could fix. "I'll ask about being put on the day shift tonight."

Draco grinned at him, opening the bedroom door. "I knew you'd see it my way." With that he left, closing the door loudly behind him.

He sighed again. Draco was just going to gloat about that for weeks. Of course, a ball gag could always shut that up. He grinned. And if he was working day shifts, they'd both be home at night. Draco was right about one thing: they weren't having enough sex.



2. One of My Turns

One of My Turns

"You've gone barmy. That's the only explanation!" Ron exclaimed, setting down a round of pints on the table.

Draco glared at him from his seat and took his drink. Harry had just managed to convince him that no, he did not want a sea breeze like the women at the table next to them were drinking. At the moment he was counting himself lucky that Draco was unaware of the names of Muggle drinks and therefore hadn't discovered that he could order things like A Long Hard Fuck or Screaming Orgasm. As soon as he had, they'd have to stop going out to Muggle pubs.

"Did you *have* to bring him along?" Ron was muttering. "This was supposed to be a night of fun."

"I can hear you, you know," Draco protested, taking a sip of his bitter. He made a face. "I think I would have preferred the pink drink."

"He nags like a girl."

"Do not!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Draco."

"I don't." Draco frowned and settled down. "Next round I'm getting the pink drink. What was it called again?"

He groaned and took a sip of his own drink. "Draco, drink your beer like the rest of us."

"I don't like it." Draco set the pint down and looked up at the telly, which was broadcasting a game of football. After a moment, he settled down, staring at it intensely, as if --

Oh. This was the first time Harry had brought him out on one of these nights with the blokes. They didn't have a telly, because neither of them would have watched it, so he'd probably never seen a football game before.

"That's a stupid game," he announced after a few minutes.

Harry rolled his eyes again. "You're the one that wanted to come along, Draco."

"I didn't know we were going to a Muggle pub!"

Ron scowled. "It's where we go every time. Why don't you leave?"

"Ron," Harry said quietly. "Listen, can't you two get along with an hour? Relax. Have something to drink. If you're really determined to drink the 'pink thing', Draco, it's a sea breeze. Talk about the last two weeks of our lives. I get enough fighting at work."

Draco, unsurpisingly, didn't look a bit contrite and sneered right back at Ron. Only once Harry poked him in the side with his elbow did he say 'fine' and slide down in his seat to sulk.

"All right. But I still think you're barmy for inviting him along."

"I think your opinion's been noted, Ron. Multiple times, at many volumes," Neville commented before taking a full swing of his drink. When he set it down, he raised his eyebrows at Harry and gave him a small smile.

Ron was sulking now as well.

Felix, who was Hermione's boyfriend and an academic and so often baffled at Ron's behaviour, seemed as bemused as ever as he watched them bicker and sulk. "They are always like this I presume?" he asked, his accent -- which was a weird mix between French and north German, according to Hermione -- making the words slide together as always.

Harry nodded and grinned at Draco, who frowned at him and raised an eyebrow.

"This is mature for them," Neville replied.

His words were met with identical objections of 'hey!' from Ron and Draco. They turned their glares on each other soon afterwards.

"So, how's the research into, er, bonah upas going?" Harry asked Neville.

"Bohan upas," Neville said, grinning. "No one's died yet." He quickly launched into an explanation of what they were doing with the tree, which mostly consisted -- from what little Harry could figure out of what Neville was saying -- of classifying the poisons, toxins, and narcotics and their possible uses.

The only one who seemed to be following with any degree of success was Felix.

"Right." Ron nodded, as if he'd understood all of that -- he had a lot of practice doing that with Hermione, they both did -- and grinned. "Did I tell you we finally got the last of those Death Eater bastards at work this week?"

He had. More than once. But Harry doubted that'd prevent him from telling the story over again, many times, especially since Ron and his partner, Procella Rainford, had been key in the capture of Montague.

Draco shrunk down in his chair and stared at the drink he had barely touched, fidgeting slightly. He was always uncomfortable when Aurors came up, especially as, years ago, he'd been on the wrong side of Rainford's fists more than once. That was before Harry and him had started fucking though, as far as Harry knew. He supposed they'd finally realised that Draco had never had a sodding thing to do with the Death Eaters, aside from being related to one, at threat of disinheritance from his mother who had surprisingly managed to keep the some of the Black estate intact.

Ron started the story again, after discreetly doing a deflection charm on the table so anything overheard would seem like normal Muggle conversation, with loud words and big gestures, going over exactly how it had happened -- with a few added details, Harry was certain. He grinned along though, nodding at all the loudest parts, and slid his hand down so that he could squeeze Draco's thigh. Draco continued to stare at the pint and then took a long pull of it, making a face again once he tasted it.

"And then I tackled him!" Ron exclaimed with glee.

Draco stood and looked around, probably for a toilet. Harry pointed to the far left corner and he nodded, starting that direction.

"What's his problem?"

Harry would have hexed Ron, if the question wasn't completely innocent. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact you're talking about someone he was on the Quidditch team with and you know he has a problem with Aurors anyway."

"That's his *own* fault. Wouldn't have one if he wasn't a slimy Slytherin too interested in the dark arts!"

"I thought you were over that shit about Slytherins, Ron."

"Oh, I am about *Slytherins.* That Slytherin? No, Harry. I know you fuck him, but that doesn't mean *I* have to be nice to him."

Harry glared at him. "Get over it, Ron."

"Why do you keep him around? He can't be *that* good a fuck to stand him the rest of the time."

"Drop it, Ron. It's none of your business and I don't have to justify my choices to you."

"Funny, I thought I was your best mate and my opinion'd matter." He glared back and took a drink.

"And he's my --"

"What?"

Harry shook his head, uncertain what Draco was exactly, and took a drink.

"I've never understood why you protected the pampered git," Ron commented loudly, taking another drink of his own beer. They were only on the first round. "He'd be rotting in a cell next to Montague were it not for you?"

"What?" Protected Draco? Had Ron started drinking at home?

"Malfoy. The git. Even if you weren't *Harry Potter*, you're still a damn good Unspeakable. So long as the snake's with you, he's untouchable, as I'm damn sure he knows. On top of that, you pay rent! He's ended up with a right brilliant set-up there: protection and being kept and all he has to do is spread his legs."

Harry shook his head. What was Ron going on about?

There was an angry noise that Harry recognised as Draco and then he was storming the table, his wand at Ron's throat in a second. "You bloody worthless brainless -- Doloris," Draco hissed even as Ron was grabbing for his wand.

Ron shouted in pain and fell back in his chair, knocking it over. Harry jumped up and grabbed Draco, pulling him back, even as Felix and Neville both did an Ending Spell. Ron was curled up on the ground where he'd fallen and when he made his wand up, quickly, meaning he wasn't too hurt, he had his wand pointed at Draco's chest.

"Stop it!" Harry shouted.

Fuck. The Deflection Spell better have held.

Draco was fighting him, trying to get to Ron, and Harry disarmed him quickly, slipping Draco's wand in his back pocket.

"Let me go! The fucking bastard --"

"Calm down now!" Harry ordered into his ear, using the tone that he usually only used with new Unspeakables who thought they'd be hotshots and nearly get themselves killed.

Draco stopped at the tone and stood stiffly. Once Harry released him, he sat down in his chair and placed his hands in his lap. Harry could see where they were clenched into fists right before they disappeared under the wood.

Ron's face was as red as his hair as he stood there, scowling at Draco and breathing heavily. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't hex you so badly you need to go to St. Mungo's."

There was a pause as silence filled the area and then Draco looked up at Harry, obviously expecting him to help.

"Ron, put your wand down," he said quietly. "Draco, apologise."

Draco sneered. He obviously had no intention of apologising.

"Apologise or I let him hex you."

That threat worked. "Sorry." It almost sounded sincere.

Ron continued to scowl. "Let me?"

"I could stop you if I had to, Ron. Don't make me." They both scowled at him, though Draco's scowl was more at the table than Harry himself. Harry sat back down and sighed. "Ron, that comment was out of line and completely baseless."

"What?" Ron shook his head. "Oh, no, Harry. That comment was completely *true* and he knows it."

"Draco?"

Draco didn't reply, glaring at the table. "I'm leaving." He stood up. His light blond hair was disshevelled and he ran a hand through it shakily, his cheeks pink with what was obviously barely contained rage.

"Sit."

He shook his head shortly, in a tight movement, his shoulders squared. "No, Harry. I'm going home. I shouldn't have come. Stay with *your* friends." With that, he slid his hand down Harry's back to take his wand back and turned, leaving the pub quickly.

Harry groaned and turned to glare at Ron. "What in the bloody fuck was that about? You made him sound like some... some... rent boy."

Ron made a face. "I just tell it like I see it, Harry. That's exactly what he is."

He gaped. "How..." Had the entire world gone mad? First Draco assumed that was what Harry had meant, then Ron had actually said it. Draco wasn't... their relationship wasn't like that. That was bollocks. He looked at Neville for support.

Neville was looking back but then he glanced down at his drink.

"You can't think that as well, Neville."

"Harry, you have to admit. It sort of looks that way."

"What?"

"Well, he does stay with you for free and you are the reason everyone leaves him alone. It makes sense."

"I'm *not* the reason people leave Draco alone. He's innocent. He was never a Death Eater or connected to them aside from his father. In his sixth year, his mother threatened to disinherited if he so much as considered becoming one."

"That wouldn't have stopped the Aurors," Neville pointed out. "No offence, Ron."

Ron grunted and drank his beer.

"That's... bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Fuck." Harry banged his head against the table and then muttered 'ow' quietly, reaching up to rub his forehead. That explained Draco's reaction from earlier that week completely. He thought it was true. Moron. He sighed and took a quick drink of his pint before standing up. "I should probably, uh... I'll talk to you later. We're still on for dinner tomorrow night at Hermione and your place, Felix?"

Felix nodded. "Yes. She is excited about it."

Of course she was. Hermione delighted in dinner parties for some unfathomable reason and now that Harry was working days, he actually had to go to them. Nodding once, Harry set down in his drink.

"Running after him." Ron scowled.

Neville elbowed him in the side none too gently. "Go on, Harry."

Harry gave him a small smile before turning to Ron. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Ron, and if you bring this up at the dinner, assuming Hermione doesn't hex you, I will. You're my best mate, but that was out of line. Draco is my... something. Boyfriend, I suppose. Either way. He's not my rent boy." Taking a slow breath, Harry walked out of the pub quickly and went to the alley way next to the pub that they used to apparate from.

Within seconds he was next to the flat building and then at the front door, trying to find his damn keys. He needed to start tying them to his wrist or something. Finally, he found the right key and made it up the building and to their flat. The door was locked and Harry realised Draco probably didn't expect him home for hours.

He entered the flat quietly, slipping his keys back into his pocket, and took off his shoes and socks, setting them near the door. Making his way to the front room, he found Draco curled up in front of the fire with a book on his lap, but he didn't appear to be reading. Harry smiled and gingerly walked up behind Draco before setting his hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Eee!" Draco jumped off the couch and spun around, breathing heavily.

Harry grinned at him. "Eee? That was a girly-scream."

He glared sulkily. "It's not girly. I was startled! You're lucky I didn't curse you instead!"

"Poor ickle Drakkiekins was scared by the Big Bad Harry."

"Oh, sod off!" He sat back down on the couch and curled up, collecting his book. "What *are* you doing home anyway?"

Harry walked around the couch and sat down on it, taking off his jumper as the fire warmed him. "What Ron said. Er. It wasn't true."

"Of course not." Draco sneered.

"He shouldn't have said it."

"Yes."

"So, yeah, it was bollocks. Glad that's settled."

"You're an idiot."

Harry sighed. "You don't, uh, think I think of you like that, do you?"

"Everyone else does," Draco replied, staring at the flames in the fireplace.

"Yeah. I sussed that out."

They sat there quietly for a long time before Draco set his book away and scooted over to curl up against Harry, his chin on Harry's shoulder.

"All right?"

"All right."

Good.



3. The Trial

Draco shifted uncomfortably as Harry knocked on the door to Hermione's house and then turned and started straightening Harry's outfit for maybe the fifteenth time in the last half-hour.

Harry glared. "It's straight."

"As your hair," Draco retorted, fixing the collar.

He reached up and grabbed Draco's wrists, bringing them down to waist level. "It's. Straight. Draco."

The door opened then, with Felix on the other side holding plates. In the background, Hermione was saying something about settings and guests who didn't understand the concept of on time. All right, they were a bit early, but Draco had been driving him mad in the flat. He'd been fidgety all day and had only worsened as time went on and the dinner party approached. Harry could only figure he was nervous about the first dinner party of Hermione's that he was to attend. He'd never been to one before because, after the fourth new boyfriend Ginny had brought, Hermione had decided that unless you were serious about the person you weren't to bring them along.

Maybe Draco should have been invited before, but he'd never thought about it. It wasn't as if the other man liked spending time with Harry's friends. Still, it was sort of nice having him here, even if he kept fidgeting madly. At the very least, he could always talk to Felix; they had things in common, Harry was fairly certain.

Harry held up the wine he'd brought with one hand and continued holding Draco's wrist with the other as Felix nodded. "In the kitchen. I would avoid Hermione at this time were I you."

He grinned; she'd ruined another cake then. "I'll do that. Draco, I'll go put the wine on to chill. Go help Felix with the settings, would you?" He kissed the other man quickly and started for the kitchen. As he left he could hear Draco taking some of the plates and asking where they were set.

When he entered the kitchen, he wasn't surprised to find Hermione there, glaring at the oven as if it had morally offended her. A quick glance revealed a burnt cake of some sort and he snickered to himself as he quickly gathered a container and ice to chill the wine.

"I can hear you, Harry Potter," Hermione huffed, turning her glare onto him.

"Has the cake insulted you?"

"I don't know what I did wrong. I followed the instructions perfectly," she replied, grabbing the oven mitts and pulling the charred cake out. This had to be the third ruined baked good in as many visits.

"Maybe the oven needs to be checked?" he suggested.

"Everything else turned out well." Hermione huffed again and the cake pan thudded down on the counter.

"Then maybe it's time for another book of dessert recipes." Harry set the wine on the ice. It didn't need to be opened quite yet; they were early, after all.

She turned to look at him again and leaned back against the counter, removing the mitts. "What are you doing here so early, Harry?"

"Another half hour alone in the flat with Draco and I would have gone mad. He's been antsy and impossible all day."

"Why do you think that is?"

He wondered if Felix had told her what had happened at the pub the night before. "Did Felix tell you?"

"That Ron's a complete prat? Yes."

"It's probably just that then," Harry said casually. "Draco was a bit upset."

"Was?"

"He seemed all right when we went to bed."

She peered at him with that Look. The one she gave him when he'd forgotten Susan's birthday.

"What?"

"You're such a *boy*, Harry." Hermione sighed. "'He seemed all right,'" she mimicked him. "Did you think, perhaps, you should *ask* if he was all right? And maybe *discuss* what happened."

Harry blinked at her. "I said it wasn't true."

"Oh, right, and Draco has no reason to believe you would lie to him if it suited your purposes." She snorted and started tossing out the cake.

"Why would I lie about that? It *isn't* true. Ron was just being a prat."

"Oh, Harry." Hermione sighed and stopped what she was doing, grabbing Harry's hand and tugging him over to the table before summoning tea and two cups. When the cups were full, she continued, "If Draco feels it's true or even feels that most people believe it's true, does it really matter if it isn't? To him, I mean. Personally, I think it's silly to be upset about what other people think about you, but Draco's pride is very important to him. It's enough that he has to hear it at work."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Surely you know... do you talk to Draco at *all*, Harry?" She tsked. "I'm not even in the same department as him and I've heard the rumours."

"What rumours?"

"That he's your..." She pursed her lips and paused. "That he's kept."

"Kept? Kept what?"

"Oh, honestly! That he's your rent boy, Harry." Hermione shook her head. "Draco's attractive enough -- he inherited that from the Black side of the family -- and people know about your rivalry from school, though they hardly seem to realise how one-sided the attention was. Given your... behaviour as an Unspeakable -- what little has been released -- and what you did to a number of Death Eaters upon capture during the war, people have been saying since Draco moved in that you enjoy keeping him as a bit of revenge. After all, what better way to get revenge on a Malfoy than to keep him as your... as that." She frowned. "And the more subdued he becomes, the more they believe it."

Harry blinked at her, trying to make the last things she had said make sense. After a few moments, he shook his head. "No."

"Oh, no what, Harry? No, people don't say that or no, it's not true." She raised her eyebrows.

"It's *not* true and people have no reason to say it."

"People have every reason to say it. The few times you've stopped by Draco's department when he was on break certainly didn't help either. You order him around, Harry, and you do it regardless of whether you're in public or not. The first time you did it, at his *job*, the gossip was all over the Ministry within hours."

Harry couldn't remember Draco ever bringing his visits up or mentioning anything like that. It didn't make sense. "I don't order him around." Well, outside of bed, at least. He sighed.

"Oh?" Her eyebrows raised even higher. "Telling him to help Felix set the table wasn't an order."

He started to reply and then stopped. "I didn't mean it that way."

"I'm certain you never do." Hermione sipped at her tea for a moment before standing up. "I have the rest of dinner to set out. Will you help?"

Harry stood as well, nodding. "Of course." After she directed him on what to do, he grabbed the platter of ham quickly and took it out to the dining room.

Draco and Felix were sitting on the couch in the nearby living room, drinking something and discussing numbers. He set the platter down and went over to join them.

"It's actually really simple once you recognise the pattern to the permutations," Draco was saying. "Though, of course, figuring that out is a right bitch." He grinned as Harry sat down next to him. "How was your talk with Granger? Seems like she kept you in there for quite a bit."

"What do the people at your work say about us?" he asked and then winced internally. That wasn't how he'd meant to ask that.

Draco stiffened and swirled his drink -- scotch, Harry noticed -- as he frowned at the table. "It's hardly important."

"It is if Hermione's right." And Harry had never known Hermione to be wrong yet.

"No, it's not. I know what they say. I ignore them. It's a good job." His jaw clenched as he finished speaking.

Harry frowned. Hermione was right then. "It's not true."

"You've said that."

"Well, it's still not."

Draco nodded and set his drink down. "Does Granger need help still?"

He glared at the other man and leaned back in the couch. "Fine. I'll drop it."

"Good. It's not important."

Harry wondered exactly when Draco had changed so much. He was used to seeing the tantrums and the moodiness, not Draco acting like an adult. It's not normal and Harry found he didn't really like it, this sort of behaviour. It made him uneasy, because it's so unlike *Draco* to drop things, especially insults. That's what the gossip was: an insult against him.

He wrapped an arm around Draco's waist and relaxed more when Draco leaned into him, tucking his head under Harry's chin as Felix purposely didn't watch. It made the other man uneasy, like Harry liking boys used to make Hermione uneasy. He never said anything though, Felix was too polite for that.

"How is the translation and deciphering of the Aevus Caudex coming along?" Draco asked Felix, acting as if the conversation had never stopped.

Felix nodded and smiled, starting in on an explanation of what they were doing with the item and how it was going. Or, at least, that's what Harry thought he was talking about, given Draco's question. He was certain the man was speaking English, with some Latin here and there, but it might as well have been in German for all Harry understood what he was saying. He frowned. Listening in on conversations between Draco and Felix always made him feel dumb, despite the fact he knew it was just because this wasn't his area. Draco often had a blank look when Harry started going on about warding and curse-breaking, anyway, so it wasn't as if they weren't even that way. They had different areas of study, was all.

It still made him feel like an idiot.

Harry took Draco's glass out of his hand and sipped at the scotch before handing the glass back.

"Get your own," Draco complained. "This is mine."

"That's what I'll say next time you decide to raid my Honeydukes drawer," he replied easily, grinning.

"I was under the impression that drawer was for both of us."

"You mean, in the sense that it isn't locked up where you can't reach it?"

"Mhmm." Draco grinned and turned his head to kiss Harry's neck. "Yes."

There was a knock on the door then, distracting Harry from what he was going to say, and Felix moved to answer it. As soon as it was open, four people, two of them with strikingly red hair, tumbled in, removing their coats and jumpers as they came.

"It's cold enough to freeze a witch's tit out there," Ron complained, plunking his hat off and throwing it in the general direction of the coat rack.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded from the kitchen.

"What? It is!"

Ginny laughed.

Luna shook her head, her hat jingling along with her as it was covered with butterbeer bottlecaps. "Actually, a witch's tit has to be kept at a temperature of negative fifteen degrees geglihein to be useful in spells and potions. I don't think it was that cold."

Neville was a bright red colour as he leaned over to whisper something in Luna's ear. He was often embarrassed by his girlfriend. Harry grinned.

"Ronald Edward Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed, storming in the front room and towards Ron, kitchen spoon in one hand and her wand in the other. "You are an insensitive, idiotic, unreasonable, unthinking wanker!" She reached him and, with the hand holding the spoon, grabbed his arm, dragging him into the kitchen, insulting him all the way. They could still hear her shouting from in there.

Draco had stiffened against Harry's chest and turned to stare at the closed kitchen door. "Wow. Granger can shout."

Ginny snickered. "You should see her when she's *really* angry. Reminds me of Mum. Which is why Ron and her never would have worked out."

Harry rubbed Draco's stomach, since that was the body part that he could reach easiest without having foreplay in public, and kissed the top of his head. "You see, even Hermione sees that Ron is wrong, and you're hardly her favourite person."

Draco blinked up at him. "Was that *meant* to be insulting?" He shook his head. "Weasel's a prat who talks out of his arse. I *don't* care *what* he says."

He frowned. It was obviously bothering Draco, even he could see that. Why wasn't he bitching about it, loudly, like he usually did with things that bothered him?

Draco swirled his drink again and offered the rest to Harry, who took it as the shouting in the kitchen seemed to be dying down. He sipped at the drink, enjoying the feel of it sliding roughly down his throat, and ran his nails over Draco's stomach, who made a pleased noise. This was comfortable, actually.

Ginny plopped down on the armchair and swung her legs over the side, sliding into a prone position. "I cannot believe I'm saying this, and I'll deny it under veritaserum in the future, but you two look adorable together."

Draco made a strangled noise and puffed his chest out. "I am not, nor is anything I do, 'adorable.' Malfoys don't *do* 'adorable.'" Harry snickered, making Draco turn and glare at him. "I suggest you shut it, Potter, if you don't want to spend the night on the couch."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh? I think, if you don't want to sleep in the same bed as me, you can take the couch. It's *my* bed."

He made a face and relaxed back into Harry as the kitchen door opened.

Hermione entered the dining room, followed by a very embarrassed looking Ron. She was still speaking, "If I ever hear of you saying something like that again, your *grandchildren* will be regretting it."

Ron muttered something that Harry couldn't suss out and sulked his way to the table, sitting down in front of the mashed potatoes. After he was settled, Hermione called everyone else to the table, placing Draco at the opposite end from Ron. Harry chewed on his lip a moment before taking the empty seat next to Draco. Ron gave him a betrayed look and then turned to Luna, who was sitting next to him, and started a conversation.

Bugger.

Ginny was sitting on the other side of Harry and she made a noise of disgust. "He's such a baby sometimes. Not that Malfoy's my favourite person in the world," she glared at Draco for a moment to make the point, "but it's your business who you're fucking and who you love."

Harry swallowed. "Er. Yeah. Thanks."

"So, how's your work been going? I heard you changed shifts." She must have been told by Ron.

"All right. It's boring, really. All the good work comes in at night, but it's still a good job."

Draco leaned against Harry's side. He was frowning slightly. "Well, boring's good. It means your life's not being threatened. And you managed a full week of coming home on time, instead of having your shift extended to twice it's scheduled length, which I can't see as a bad thing. Aren't you less tired?"

"Reckon so." He was less exhausted, but that was because he hadn't had a good chase or fight since his last night shift the Monday before. All he did on the day shift was sit around doing paperwork. It was rare a mission came in calling for a noon ambush, after all.

"Same pay. Half the risk and half the hours. See, changing to days was a good thing."

It seemed to have made Draco happier, certainly, even if it did leave Harry bored. He decided to change the subject. "So, Gin, what about yours?"

Ginny grinned at him and launched into a story about her latest practices and game as the Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies. He listened, grinning along. At least someone was having fun at their job.




4. Outside the Wall

Harry ran one hand through his hair and plucked his wand from the inside of his sleeve using the other. Quickly, he changed his work robes into jeans and a jumper, setting the spell for only a few hours -- much longer than he planned on keeping the spell on, but short enough the Improper Use of Magic Office wouldn't be on his case. He'd had enough letters from them to last a lifetime, as it was. Smiling to himself, he took a last look in the mirror in his locker -- it thankfully didn't speak -- and then checked his pockets for his wallet and office keys. Once he found them, he dropped them back in and shut the locker door.

"Hey mate, going to lunch?" Deimos Tavistock, his new partner, grinned over at him. "Want company?"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Deimos, I'm planning on company already."

"A lunch break *and* a date. Two new things in one day! Who's the lucky girl?"

He groaned inwardly and wondered how to avoid the question. With the Daily Prophet still pairing him up with any female he stood in the presence of in public, he'd been on the recieving end of a lot of jokes as the adjusted to the day shift. The women and blokes on days seemed to be a lot more relaxed than those on nights and more social as well; it was taking some adjustment. And a lot of creative thinking to avoid the questions without seeming anti-social; the last thing he needed was to alienate himself from his new work group.

Winifred Pritchard walked into the locker room, her partner Andrew Millerson close behind her.

Deimos was still grinning. "Well?"

Harry sighed and then tried to smile to make it look good-humoured. "I'm hoping my boyfriend's free for lunch." There, maybe that'd get them off his back.

"Uhh."

A wolf-whistle came from Deimos. "You must be as good as they say if you've managed to keep that away from the vultures at the Prophet," he said, slapping Harry on the back and shaking his head before turning back to his locker.

Winifred looked curious. "Is your boyfriend Ministry?"

He nodded slowly.

"So's mine. We should look into having lunch together sometime, when our breaks coincide," she said, smiling at him. Win was, by far, the friendliest person he had ever met. It was sort of hard to believe she'd been in Slytherin.

Harry swallowed. "Uh..."

She raised her eyebrows, still smiling. "We don't have to."

"Er. It's not that! Really. It's just... I don't know if he'd be interested."

"Oh. I see. Well, why don't you ask him today and get back to me?"

"Win knows hers is willing. He's well-trained," Andrew commented.

Win smacked him on the back of the head and opened her locker.

"Er. I'll do that." Harry gave her a small smile. "It's just the... everything's pretty new."

"Oh. You just started seeing each other. No wonder the papers haven't caught on." Deimos shook his head in mock disappointment. "And here I thought you were just that good."

"Not exactly? We've been living together awhile, but this is... new." He flushed. "Uh. I should go. See if I can catch him." He grabbed his bag and ducked out of the room quickly, to the laughter of his co-workers.

It wasn't difficult to make his way up from the ninth floor to the first, where the Department of Research and Education was tucked away in its own set of offices while most of the floor was dominated by the more mundane functions of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Hermione and Felix were on this floor as well, in the Archaic Artifacts Office, which was situated next to the department Draco worked in. His job dealt with how magic was effected by pattern-based constructs -- or that was how Draco explained it at least. Harry understood a bit of that and how it applied to the way wards were put up, but most of it went over his head.

Harry reached the area Draco shared with a few other people in the Office after only two wrong turns and knocked on the slightly ajar door.

"In." That was Draco's voice.

He walked in but Draco didn't look up from the paper he was scribbling on. All three of the other members Magical Permutations Office were sitting at their desks and one, a girl with a squashed looking face, was eating a sandwich. Harry hoped they hadn't ordered in, meaning Draco had already eaten. He sat down in a chair in front of Draco's desk and waited for his... boyfriend to stop writing.

"What is it?" Draco looked up. "Oh. Harry. What are you doing here?"

"I was going to take you out to lunch. You haven't eaten already, have you?"

He frowned at Harry and looked back down at his papers again. "No, but I'm not hungry. I have work to do."

"I think you're entitled to a lunch break. Come on. There's a restaurant I've been meaning to show you. This'll hold an hour, shan't it?"

"Harry, I said I have to work."

Harry frowned at the top of Draco's very blond hair and plucked the quill out of his fingers deftly. "It'll hold."

"Go on, Malfoy. Your keeper's calling."

Draco's jaw clenched and Harry turned on the girl -- woman -- who had said that. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked calmly. Very calmly.

The woman raised her eyebrows. "I was suggesting that he go with you, Mr. Potter."

Harry frowned at her and then turned to Draco, sighing. "It's Draco's choice. If he doesn't want to go to lunch with his boyfriend, then I suppose I'll just have to be disappointed." And frustrated. He'd really been hoping for a quick shag after the food.


Draco looked up at him and smiled. "I suppose this could wait an hour." He quickly started setting things away. "That's how long you have for your lunch break, right?"

"Around that, yes." He grinned back and stood up, grabbing Draco's jacket from the rack. "Mmm. I had a Muggle restaurant in mind. Mind changing?" He handed Draco the jacket.

"Why don't we eat at home today?"

That worked for Harry. Especially as it made shagging look more likely. "Brill."

The annoying woman at the next desk wasn't doing anything, save listening to them, and Harry frowned at her again, but decided it wasn't worth delaying anything. After a moment Draco seemed satisfied everything was in order and gestured Harry out of the office, closing the door behind them.

"By the time we're back that will be all over the Department, you realise."

Harry looked at him. "What?"

He was grinning at Harry. "Nora is the worst gossip on the floor."

"Oh." Draco didn't seem to be upset by this. "I can't believe she called me your keeper."

"Mmm. It doesn't matter." He was still smiling at Harry as they neared the lift. "So, lunch or sex?"

Harry grinned. "Sex. I can eat at work."

There was a quiet ding and the lift door slid open, revealing an empty compartment. His grin widened as they walked in. As soon as the door was shut, he kissed Draco, pushing him up against the wall as Draco hit the button for the Atrium.

A moment later Draco pushed him away and removed his glasses. "Pokes." He threaded his free hand in Harry's hair and pulled him back in for a kiss, opening his mouth.

Harry groaned and pushed a knee between Draco's legs, thrusting his tongue into the other man's mouth. The lift stopped suddenly and the door started to slide open.

Fuck.

They pulled apart quickly and Harry grabbed his glasses, slipping them back on as a middle-aged man with peppered hair and a stern expression stepped into the lift.

Harry recognised him immediately. His boss. Bugger! Not fair.

"Potter."

"Mr. Redford."

Draco was snickering and Harry elbowed him. "Hey!"

"And who might this be?" Mr. Redford raised his eyebrows.

"Er."

"I'm Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you. You're the Head of the Harry's department, Mr. Redford, correct?"

Mr. Redford puffed his chest out noticeably and nodded in a manner Harry was certain he thought was gruff. Redford liked people noticing him -- which was a bad thing for most Unspeakables. It'd caused trouble for Harry often enough, with his damn scar. There was a joke that Redford landed the job because he was the most competent person not to end up dead. Which, given the death rate of Unspeakables, wasn't saying much. Though the day shift was quite a bit safer, overall.

"Harry's told me a lot about you," Draco continued, even though Harry was certain he hadn't even told him Redford was his boss. "Good things, of course. He really loves being an Unspeakable, you know, and only hopes to make it as far as you have."

Redford smiled and then quickly pretended that he hadn't, but he was looking over Harry more closely now, appraisingly. "I see. Well, work hard and be clever, and you'll go a long way, Potter."

"Yes, sir." He nodded.

The lift stopped then, on the eighth floor, the Atrium, and Harry nodded again. "This is our stop."

Redford nodded back and Harry quickly pulled Draco out of the lift and then out of the building. Once they were on the street he stopped and turned on him. "What was that?"

Draco blinked at him. "It never hurts to compliment the boss, Harry."

"I know I've never told you about Redford."

He took Harry's arm and started walking him along. "Of course not. Granger has though and Nora says that he's shagging a real cow up in Sports and Games." At Harry's look, he shook his head and made a face. "No wonder you haven't moved up in your department. You have the record and reputation for it, but these things take effort."

Harry frowned at him. "I'm not going to toady to him, Draco."

"Why not?"

"Because it's rather pathetic."

Draco rolled his eyes. "All right, Harry. Granger was right. You do need someone to explain these things to you." He shook his head. "It's good sense, is all." His grip had slid down from Harry's elbow to his hand and after a moment, he pushed his fingers in between Harry's and held.

Harry looked down at their hands for a second, distracted, but then replied, "I don't."

"You're never going to get anywhere if you don't learn who to charm."

"I don't plan on to 'charm' anyone." He frowned. He didn't understand why Draco felt the need to either. Especially *his* boss.

"Well, you should. You could have his job in a few years if you did. The whole destroying Voldemort incident is only going to take you so far."

"I'm good at my job. If I'm better than the others, then I'll be promoted."

Draco laughed. He actually laughed! "Right. And crups'll fly. Honestly!"

Harry scowled.

Draco leaned over and kissed him quickly. The woman walking near Harry made a noise and stepped over to the far side of the pavement from them as Draco frowned at her in puzzlement. He shook his head and the grin returned as he looked at Harry in amusement. "Obviously, you need me to explain this all to you. Perhaps give you lessons. You can't just be good at your *job* if you expect to get ahead in it. Though it's cute that you think so."

His scowl turned to a glower.

Draco laughed again. "Oh, did I tell you I was thinking of redecorating? I really hate the colour of the walls in our flat. I was thinking a nice dark green for the front room and just a frost for the bedroom. After all, my mother plans to visit." Harry blinked at him and he continued. "Well, when she visits, she should like that scheme as much as I do. Otherwise, she might decide to stay and fix it."

Oh. God.

He hadn't even seen Narcissa Malfoy since he was fourteen.

"Oh, stop looking at me like that!" Draco scowled at Harry and elbowed him in the side. "She merely wants to meet you. Properly this time."

"Er."

"And you'll be polite *and* charming."

"Uh."

"And wear dress robes when she comes over for dinner."

He squeaked and then quickly covered that up with a cough.

"Which will be next Saturday. We'll have to order in food, I suppose, unless you're going to cook something proper."

When had Draco made all these plans and why hadn't Harry been told? *Before* they were made.

"I'm certain she'll like you. After all, I do," Draco continued as if Harry wasn't panicking next to him.

Bugger.

He was doomed.

- End -

Well, I hoped you enjoyed it! Comments and thoughts appreciated.

- Andrea.