Title: Coffee, Two Sugars
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, Pansy/Theodore Nott
Summary: Auror Harry Potter has just been given the case that could make his career. He must go undercover to find who is responsible for the brutal deaths of three pureblood wizards. However, he must live as Alex Selwyn, who Draco Malfoy, the CEO of Malfoy Corp., thinks is simply his new secretary. However, when sparks start to fly between the two, Harry must decide if he should tell Draco of his true identity...if someone doesn't take the opportunity away from him first.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Crime-scene report descriptions of rape and murder aftermath, kidnapping, violence, hidden identity
Epilogue compliant? No.
Word Count: ~10,800
Author's Notes: This was really different for me to write, as it’s a bit longer and a different genre from what I normally do. However, it was a lot of fun despite the challenge! I altered the prompt I was given a little, but I think it still captures the general idea of the prompt. I hope you enjoy it, mab! Also, I would like to thank my beta g_bowneyes, for doing such a wonderful job!
“Sir,” Harry said. “I’m not sure I’m right for this job… I’ve never really worked undercover before. I’m sure you’re aware that I’m pretty recognizable.”
Harry stood in front of the desk of Gawain Robards, head of the Auror Department. Beyond the closed door to the office, the Auror Office was bustling as always, full of new cases. Robards steepled his fingers and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table. He was in his mid-sixties, with grey hair and piercing brown eyes.
“You can always use glamours, or Polyjuice. Anyway, that’s not quite true; you broke into the Ministry during the war undercover. This isn’t so different,” Head Auror Robards said, leaning forward, and balancing his chin on his fingertips. “Now, tell me, why are you so loathe to take this case? It’s a high profile murder… solving it could make your career. It could even set you up to become Head Auror in a couple of years when I retire.”
“But don't you think this is a bit of a conflict of interest? I mean, I'd be going undercover as Draco Malfoy's secretary. I'm sure you've heard of our... history,” Harry tried to explain.
“Harry, you are one of the best Aurors on the force. I'm sure you can put aside a schoolboy feud to investigate a serial murder,” Robards said. He gave him a sharp look. “Any other excuses as to why you can't take this case?”
Harry shrugged. “Well, I’m a little tired. I just finished an assignment yesterday. I was hoping for some time off, so I could spend some time with my godson. I was actually going to ask you today.”
Robards held out the report to Harry and said, “Listen, read over the file. If you really don't want to take the case, I won't force you. I can give it to another Auror. However, I think you're going to want to take it.”
Harry took the file. “Okay, I'll read it over.”
“Thank you,” Robards replied.
Harry walked back to his cubicle. He sat down with a sigh, and leaned back, looking at the picture of Teddy on his desk. He was nearly seven years old now; he would be in just under a month, on the 29th of April. Teddy was getting so big that Harry didn't want to lose any more time with him.
Harry saw Ron peek around the wall of his cubicle. “Hey, Harry,” he said. “What did Robards want?”
“He wanted to give me a new assignment," Harry said.
Ron winced in sympathy, "Oh that sucks." Harry had told Ron of his plans.
"Yeah," Harry sighed in response.
"Well, if you need any help with it, don't hesitate to ask," Ron said.
"I might ask you to interview one or two of the victims' families, if I take it," Harry said.
"Whatever you need," Ron shrugged. He ducked his head back into his cubicle.
Harry wheeled more closely to his desk, and opened the folder. He began to read:
Crime Scene Report
Date of Discovery: 20/03/2005
Made by Auror Davies
On the evening of March 20, 2005, Squad Six of the Auror Office was dispatched to where the body of a young adult witch was found. The body was discovered by the witch's boyfriend, Adam Young. The body was later identified by Millicent Bulstrode (the victim's cousin) as being Virginia Bulstrode, aged 19. Both Young and Bulstrode were hesitant to give any information to the Auror Squad when questioned.
Virginia Bulstrode's body was found naked in her bathtub. Her neck had been sliced open by what appears to have been a knife. According to Dr. Peters, an Auror Office coroner, Bulstrode died from that injury. It appears that magic was not used in the murder. On the bathroom mirror, the words "Blood Bigot" were sprawled in red ink. There was evidence of rape in and around the body; further details of which can be found in the coroner's report.
Harry flipped over to the next page...
Crime Scene Report
Date of Discovery: 23/03/2005
Made by Auror Rogers
On the evening of March 23, 2005, Squad Three of the Auror Office was dispatched to where the body of a young adult wizard was found. The body was found by the victim's cousin, Theodore Nott, who later identified the body as being that of Reginald Nott, aged 37. Theodore Nott was hesitant to give any information to the Auror Squad that questioned him.
The body was found in the victim's living room, on his couch. His left arm was turned to reveal his Dark Mark. There was heavy bruising found around the body's neck. Dr. Johnson, an Auror Office coroner, deemed that asphyxiation was the cause of death. There is evidence of the body being physically beaten, both before and after death.
The apartment was in disarray; however, nothing of value appears to have been taken. The words “Blood Bigot” were spray-painted in red paint on the living room wall behind the victim’s couch.
Harry flipped to the final Auror report of the file.
Report on the Discovery of a Dead Body on 27/03/2005
Made by Auror Davies
On the evening of March 27, 2005, Squad Six of the Auror Office was dispatched to where the body of a young adult witch was found. The body was found in an alleyway next door to a nightclub, “Pleasure Island,” owned by the Zabini family, and personally run by Blaise Zabini. The body was later identified as that of Jane Gant, aged 21, by her older brother Steve Gant.
The body was found by a passerby, Terry Boot, who had heard screaming coming from the alleyway. He ran to assist the victim, but was too late. She was dead upon his arrival, and the murderer had Dispparated. The body was lying on the ground of the alleyway. There is evidence that the victim had been raped prior to her death, as is further detailed in the coroner's report. The words, "Blood Bigot," were scratched into the victim's back. Her face was so heavily disfigured that it was difficult to identify the body. The victim appears to have died from a slit throat.
Harry leaned back in his chair, knowing that he was going to have to work this case...he had to for the victims. Damn, Harry thought. Well, I guess I'll just finish it up fast. Then, I'll have plenty of time to spend with Teddy.
Harry said, "Hey, Ron. Could you go talk to Millicent Bulstrode and Steve Gant?"
Ron called, "Yeah, sure. I wonder if Bulstrode is still ugly?"
Harry laughed half-heartedly; he was looking at pictures taken at the gruesome murder scenes.
The next day, Harry sat across from Theodore Nott and his new wife, Pansy Nott nee Parkinson. The two had grown more into their features since the end of the war; Nott had become less gangly and more assured in his movements, whereas Pansy had become more elegant. They were sitting in their new apartment; it was small, but homey. A tea set sat on the coffee table between them. Both were dressed in black.
"Thank you for having me here on such short notice," Harry said. "I am so sorry for your loss."
"It's no problem," Theo said smoothly, taking a sip of his tea. "Anything to help those actually trying to bring my cousin's murderers to justice."
Harry blinked in surprise, "I see; thank you." He paused before asking, "I understand that Mr. Nott was your cousin. Were the two of you close?"
"We grew closer after the war," Theo said. "I helped him get his job at Malfoy Corporation."
"In the weeks before his death, did Mr. Nott do or say anything troubling?" Harry questioned.
Pansy took Theo's hand and said, "Reggie had received some threatening letters."
Harry's eyebrows rose, "I see. Those were not found in his apartment. Do you have them?"
"Yes," Pansy said. "Shall I go get them?" Pansy stood and went into the couple's bedroom.
Harry turned to Theo, "Why didn't you tell the Aurors about the letters when they interviewed you the night of the murder?"
Theo said, "Because they didn't 'interview' me, they interrogated me, Potter. They seem to think he got what he deserved being a Death Eater." He leaned forwards on his elbows and looked Harry in the eye, "I'm afraid, Auror Potter, that you are one of the few men I know who actually care about why a Death Eater becomes a Death Eater."
Pansy came back into the room, and Theo leaned back. Pansy gave the letters to Harry, and sat back down.
The letter was written in letters cut out of magazines like those he could remember from a muggle murder mystery book...
We are coming to get you so you can pay for your crimes.
The Society of Justice
Harry looked up from the letter, "When did he receive this?"
"A few weeks ago... about two weeks before he was murdered," Pansy said. "He brought them over here to show them to us. He was pretty worried."
"I can understand why he would be," Harry said. "I'm going to have to take this back to the Auror Office to run some tests on it that I can't do here." He paused, thinking. Then, he said, "But why didn't he bring it to us when he received it? We might have been able to offer him some sort of protection."
"Apparently, he did," Nott said. "But the Auror he talked to kind of just shrugged him off."
"Do you have the Auror's name?" Harry asked. "I'd like to report him."
"No," Theo said. "I don't have it. Even if I did, I don't think it would do much good."
Pansy took Theo's hand. "No one has done anything to punish people for attacking Purebloods since the end of the War. Most people tend to think that we're getting what we deserve," Pansy swallowed hard. "Perhaps some of us are... but many of us aren't. We weren't all willing, you know?"
Harry knew exactly what Pansy was talking about. Since the end of the War, many Purebloods had been victims of violent attacks, even if they weren't involved in the War at all. However, things had probably been the worst for those who had been minors that were forced to become Death Eaters.
Harry did not know what had happened to many of his Pureblood classmates after the war, but he had heard a few stories. He knew that Pansy had only signed up to avoid a marriage to Malfoy, and that she had lost absolutely everything after the War in the Tribunals. Theodore Nott had lost access to his inheritance until his father's death in Azkaban, which could be decades in the making. Blaise Zabini had run away to Italy with his mother, saving a small amount of his wealth, which he helped Malfoy use to revive Malfoy Corporation. He was now VP of the company, in addition to owning and running his chain of nightclubs.
He had heard a lot of rumors about Draco Malfoy. After the Malfoy Trials, Lucius Malfoy was sent to Azkaban, and Narcissa ran away to France to avoid persecution and to stay in one of their few remaining properties. Draco had somehow rebuilt Malfoy Corp. from the ground up, as it had fallen into disarray during the War. Now, Malfoy Corp. was back to being one of the top Companies of the Muggle and the Wizarding Worlds. It was also one of the few places that Pureblood and Muggleborn wizards and witches alike could get jobs.
"I know, and I'm sorry," Harry said. He cleared his throat, "Do you know if Mr. Nott was involved in anything else that could lead to his murder?"
"No," Theo said. "Reggie was a good guy. He wasn't into anything dangerous. No drugs, or gambling. He wanted to turn over a new leaf, after the War."
"I understand," Harry said. He stood, straightening his robes. "Thank you for your time," he said, shaking Pansy and Theo's hands. He went into his pocket and took out his business card. "Please," he said. "Don't hesitate to contact me if you remember anything else that could be helpful."
Pansy took it. "We'll be sure to," she said.
"Uncle Harry!" Teddy cried, running to Harry.
"Teddy!" Harry smiled. He knelt and let the little boy run into his arms. He stood and swung him around. "Feeling pink today?" Harry asked.
Teddy's hair was hot pink. "Yup!" he giggled. "Did you take down the bad guys?"
"Yeah," Harry replied. "I sure did."
"Boys!" a voice called. Harry looked over and saw Andromeda standing in the doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. "Come inside and wash up for dinner!"
Harry grinned as Teddy groaned. "Come on, you heard the lady," Harry laughed, as he carried Teddy into the house.
"He loves you, you know," Andromeda said. "God forbid anything ever happens to you."
"I know," Harry said, smiling at a sleeping Teddy. They had played all evening, and all the running around had worn Teddy out. Teddy was lying across the couch, his head in Harry's lap and his feet in Andromeda’s. Harry had his fingers in his hair, playing with the newly black strands. "I'm starting a new case, and then I'm going to take off two weeks or so to spend some time with him. It'll be part of his birthday present," Harry whispered.
"You spoil him," Andromeda said. "But...perhaps he could use a little spoiling."
"What have you been doing recently?" Harry changed the subject.
"Well," she said, "I've been planning this one's birthday party. I talked to 'Cissa today. Both her and Draco can come."
After the War, Andromeda and Narcissa had reconciled their differences, since they had both lost so much. They were now good friends, and Teddy even called Narcissa his "Aunt Cissy." They had made a lot of progress from the stony silence that had prevailed before the War.
"You will play nice with Draco though, darling," Andromeda said, giving him a stern look. "I won't have you two upsetting your godson on his birthday."
"Hey," Harry said. "I play nice. He's the one that doesn't."
Andromeda raised her eyebrows at Harry. "Whatever you want to think," she said. "But, still, don't start anything with him, okay?"
"Okay, Andromeda," Harry replied. "I won't."
Teddy stirred on Harry's lap. "Uncle Harry?" he said.
"Are you ready to go to bed?" Harry asked.
"Noooo," Teddy whined.
"Yessss," Harry chuckled.
Harry picked him up and took him to his bedroom. It was Tonks' old room; it still had the same blue paint that had been on her walls as child. On Teddy's bedside table, there were several photo frames. One was from his last birthday party with his entire family, both blood-related and not, standing around him. He had one just with him and Harry, and one of him and his grandmother. Finally, the oldest picture was of Tonks and Remus right after Teddy was born. The little family stood together. Remus and Tonks' smiles seemed to take up the entirety of their faces, while their baby slept in Remus' arms. They seemed so happy, a rare thing in those troubled days.
Harry laid Teddy down on his bed. Teddy automatically gravitated towards his black dog stuffed animal that Harry had given him. Teddy yawned, "Uncle Harry, could you tell me a story?"
Harry knelt next to the bed. "What one?" he asked.
"The one about the Marauders," Teddy said.
Harry smiled softly and said, "Okay." He cleared his throat, "Many years ago there lived four boys who called themselves the Marauders. However, only three would remain so forever. Their names were Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs and they went on many adventures together. However, most importantly, they became heroes..."
Later that night, after saying goodbye to Andromeda, Harry returned home to find Ron's owl, Pig II on his windowsill. After Pig had died in an attack by a wild animal, Ron had asked Ginny to go shopping for a new owl for him, since he was so busy with Auror training. He had, perhaps, made a bit of a mistake.
Somehow, Ginny had managed to find the original Pig's identical twin in an undisclosed location, and named him Pig as well. He already answered to the name; so, yet again, there was nothing that Ron could really do about it. Also, he had already spent all of his extra money from his paycheck on his new owl and other fun things.
Thus, Ron had been saddled with another tiny owl. (He wasn't quite as upset as he pretended, however. He really had missed Pig I, and was grateful to see his twin, even if he pretended not to be.)
Harry untied the letter from Pig II's leg, and allowed the owl to get a drink from his own owl's cage. Pig II drank, then flew quickly home.
Harry opened the letter and read,
I interviewed the two families today. The written forms are enclosed. Both of them seemed to think that the murders were hate crimes. I'm not so sure about that, but Hermione looked at the stuff (she's so bloody nosy, that one), and wants to tell you to be careful. I think that I agree with her. These murders seem really shady Harry. You might just have to do a little bit of body guarding, too. Malfoy is so high-profile and you're going to be his secretary. I know you hate saving the git, but work's work, you know?
Anyway, I have to be getting to bed. I have a wife waiting for me.
Harry put the letter down next to him, and fell back onto his bed. He was so tired, and he had had a busy day.
He now knew that he simply had to take the case; however, he needed to do one thing first.
The night before Harry was going to go undercover, Harry decided to see Robards once again, to tell him of his suspicions. He went into his office, and stood in front of his desk, much like he had two days previous.
“I'm glad to see you're taking the case, Harry,” he said. “I knew we could count you in.”
“Thank you, sir,” Harry replied. “May I ask you a question before I leave?”
“If you think it would help you, of course,” he said, steepling his fingers.
Harry hesitated, “Sir, why did no one say in the reports that the murders could be linked to anti-Pureblood groups?”
Robards stood and said, “I hoped you would ask that.”
“I believe that if we bring attention to the violent acts that anti-Pureblood organizations are committing against our fellow Wizards, we can prevent more crimes like these,” he explained. “I want you to bring to light as much as you can about the group that organized the murders, so that everyone can see how wrong these attacks are. It's also a great opportunity for you, Harry.”
“How's that?” Harry asked.
“Well,” he said. “If you can solve a case like this, you will become Head Auror, and soon. Then, you can really make a difference.”
“I know, sir, and that’s why I want to take this case,” Harry said. “However, I have some reservations about hiding my identity.”
Robards said, “I understand that you are uneasy about going undercover. But you must know that if you were to go as Harry Potter, you would never get any information.” Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Robards raised a finger, and continued on, “I’m not saying that as a slur; it’s just fact. There is still distrust between you and Draco Malfoy and his friends. Not to mention that you are a well-known Auror. No criminal would ever let you into their fold, nor Malfoy, for that matter. It’s a necessary evil, Harry.”
Harry knew that, and said, “Yes, sir. I will report to Malfoy Corp. in the morning, undercover.”
“Thank you, Harry.”
Malfoy Corporation was the largest and the most influential company in the Wizarding World. They made and sold everything: food, clothing, potions ingredients, and even hair products.
Before the War, Malfoy Corp. was influential; it had been since before the Muggle Industrial Revolution. There was even rumor that the Malfoys were responsible for that shift in Muggle history. However, during each of Voldemort’s rises, the Corporation had fallen into disrepair, as Lucius Malfoy was a poor businessman, and even worse at choosing the winning side in either War.
After Lucius' imprisonment, Draco took control of the company. He brought Malfoy Corp back from the brink of collapse, using what little wealth the Malfoys still retained. (There was even rumor that Draco had slept in his office because he was so poor. Harry wasn't sure how much he believed that.)
His hard work had paid off; his company was now at the top of the corporate world, and the Malfoy name had been restored in a mere seven years since the end of the War.
The image had, in part, been cleaned up by all of the good work that Draco had done in the years since the war, occasionally with company funds. He had given all sorts of money to charity, especially to many of them that were to benefit orphans and those left impoverished after the War. However, most remarkably, he had given jobs to people regardless of their blood status. This was especially incredible since, before the War, Malfoy Corp. was well known for only hiring Pureblood employees. He was now known to be one of the few companies that held no prejudices against any workers and hired only based on skill.
By most, he was loved for it. However, there were extremists on both sides that would rather see him dead. This especially included anti-Pureblood groups who believed that Death Eaters and other Purebloods did not receive enough punishment through the judgments of the Tribunals immediately following the War. Harry wasn't sure, but he had a hunch that such a group might be responsible for the murders.
The next morning, Harry sat in the waiting room of Draco’s corner office. It was cleanly decorated, and Harry’s knee jiggled in anticipation. He looked up towards the clock on the wall, and saw that it was 9:10 am. He had been forgotten, at least for the moment. Harry had placed a series of glamour spells upon himself in order to change his appearance. He had covered his scar, made his complexion lighter and his hair light brown, and changed his eye color to hazel. He had grown three inches. He had also cast a spell on his speech to make it so he spoke with an American accent.
Suddenly, the door to Draco’s office opened. Draco stood in the doorway, in a black bespoke suit. His hair was perfectly in place, and his grey eyes were as sharp as ever. Harry realized once again how difficult it was going to be to fool Draco that Alex Selwyn had nothing to hide. Harry had always found it hard to trust or like Draco, but he had to admit that he was observant. That much was clear to everyone.
However, despite his focused appearance, Harry could somehow tell that Draco was exhausted. Harry was unsure how he knew it (perhaps it was something he recognized from their sixth year, the same look was in his eyes, perhaps with a bit less desperation), but it was incredibly obvious to him.
“Mr. Selwyn,” Draco said, holding out his hand. “My name is Draco Malfoy.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” Harry took it, and they shook hands.
“If you would follow me,” Draco said, “I can ask you a few questions and we can get you set up today.”
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry responded.
They went into Draco’s office; it was large and had wall-length windows on two sides. Harry could see the whole of London from Draco’s perch above the city. It was almost as if Draco was a king, who could look after all he had from his tower. He had a large cherry desk that was cluttered with paperwork, and his throne was a plush green armchair. Draco sat in his chair, and Harry sat across from him in one of two wooden chairs.
“Mr. Selwyn,” Draco said. “I understand that you graduated from Salem Witches’ Academy, in Salem, Massachusetts…what brings you to England, and to Malfoy Corp?”
“My father lived in England before he moved to America after meeting my mother,” Harry responded. “I wanted to see where he used to live, especially after he died a few years ago. As for what brought me to Malfoy Corp…I really like the good works that the company does, and it is also very successful, unlike many companies right now.”
Draco nodded, “Now, you applied for the position of my personal secretary. As my personal secretary, you will not be able to leave for the day until I do, and I keep very long hours. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes,” Harry replied. “I understand.”
“Then we shouldn’t have any problems,” Draco smiled thinly. “All right, if you would follow me back into the waiting room.” They rose, and stepped back through the doors; Draco led Harry to a wooden desk in the waiting room, in front of Draco’s office. "This is where you'll sit," Draco said. "You've done secretarial work before, and I gave you a list of your responsibilities before you came, so you ought to kind of know what you're doing. Ask me any questions you might have if any come up."
"When do I need to get you coffee, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked.
Draco said, "I want it in about an hour. No milk, two sugars."
"I understand," Harry said.
Draco nodded at him, and disappeared into his office, his door shutting behind him with a click.
Harry sighed and sat down in his desk. These next few weeks were going to be just miserable, and Harry knew it.
Much to Harry’s surprise however, it wasn’t so bad working for Malfoy. All he had to be was organized, and he had learned that skill working as an Auror. Draco also hadn’t done anything bad to anyone around him; in fact, he seemed impartial to just about everyone.
The only people he was friendly to were his old friends in Slytherin. They all seemed to visit Draco. Nott and Zabini even worked for the company. Nott was in charge of publications printed by Malfoy Publishing, whereas Blaise was Draco’s VP of the entire company. Everyone knew that Zabini had helped Draco by investing in the company when no one else would right after the war, as he was one of the few Slytherin pureblood families that had retained his wealth.
Blaise arrived in Draco’s waiting room two days after Harry had started at the company. It was just past ten in the morning, when he arrived with his typical swagger. He was dressed flashily in bright green robes. His eyes lit up when he saw Draco’s new secretary. He smiled lazily and walked over to Harry’s desk.
“Why, hello there, sexy,” he said, leaning an elbow against Harry’s desk.
Harry raised an eyebrow, “And who are you?”
“My name is Blaise Zabini,” Blaise practically purred, “and I have an appointment with Mr. Draco Malfoy, although I’d much rather have an appointment with you.”
“You’re early, so you have a few minutes to wait,” Harry responded blankly. He didn’t want to give him any encouragement.
“Ah, I see,” Blaise said. “Well, all the more time I can spend with you,” he looked towards Harry’s nameplate, “Alex Selwyn. What a fantastically sultry name.”
“Is that so?” Harry said drily.
“Yes,” Blaise said, “yes, it is. How about you come and be my secretary, if you know what I mean?” He winked.
Harry raised an eyebrow and was about to reply, when he heard Draco’s office door open behind him.
“Thank you, Miles,” Draco said, with a broad smile. “I’ll call you when we make a decision.”
“No,” Miles responded. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy.”
Miles Bletchley was the third most powerful person in Malfoy Corp., after Zabini. He was just as rich as him as well. He was a jovial looking man. Harry could vaguely remember Miles and Kevin Bletchley; the twins on the Slytherin Quidditch Team. They had been violent and silent, angry boys. They had been one of the few muggle-born wizards in Slytherin, and their parents had been murdered in the War. No one knew what had happened to Kevin after the War, but they did see the incredible success of his brother.
Miles then turned in the doorway, and saw Blaise Zabini. They glared at each other for a brief moment, before returning to their normal selves. Harry vaguely wondered why.
“Zabini,” Miles said.
“Bletchley,” Blaise nodded.
Miles left the reception area, and Blaise looked up at Draco who shot him a quick, exasperated look, before it quickly vanished from his face.
“Blaise,” Draco said. “I hope you aren’t scaring off my secretary.”
“Hello, Draco,” Blaise replied.
A corner of Draco’s mouth pulled into a smile, and he turned to walk back into his office. Blaise strode in behind him, and clapped his hand onto his shoulder, allowing the door to fall shut with a faint click.
Harry turned back to his desk, and continued to sort through Draco’s mail. Ten minutes later, he began to hear muffled shouting; Draco had his office soundproofed enough that one could hear voices, but could not tell what was being said. Harry’s hands paused in their work, and he looked up from a memo sent from a factory.
Moments later, the door swung open, slamming against the wall. Blaise stomped out, muttering to himself. His robes were wrinkled, and his hands were balled into fists.
“Mr. Selwyn, could you please come in to my office?” Draco called coolly.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry rose from his seat, grabbing a pad of paper, a quill, and a jar of ink.
He walked through the doorway of the office, and Draco said, “Could you shut the door?” Harry nodded and did so. He sat down in the chair across from Draco.
It was then that Harry heard a soft beeping noise, increasing in volume. Harry instantly thought of a Muggle movie.
He froze, as Draco began, “I would like…”
“Mr. Malfoy, we need to get out of here!” Harry interrupted, rising.
Draco frowned, “What? Why?” He rose, and walked around his desk.
Harry grabbed Draco by the arm and shouted, “Move!”
He half-dragged Draco out of the office, shoving him through the doorway. The door shut behind them, as Harry threw himself on top of Draco, shielding him with his body.
There was a loud boom as the bomb exploded, and the door was blown off its hinges. Harry sprung to his feet instinctively and shouted, “Aquamenti!” Water shot out of his wand. Draco followed him up and did the same. After several minutes, the fire was extinguished. Breathing heavily with adrenalin, Draco and Harry looked at each other; their eyes met. Draco’s lips were parted, and they were both breathing heavily. Draco’s usually perfect hair was all messed up. They couldn’t look away. Draco opened his mouth to speak.
Then, the door to the reception area slammed open. Both of them jumped, and turned towards the door. People rushed into the office, ushering them away to medical attention.
The next day, with the power of magic, the office was as good as new. Harry arrived at his usual time. The moment he did, Draco called, “Mr. Selwyn, may I have a word?”
Harry walked in, a small smile on his face as he went through the same motions as he had the previous day. He sat down, and waited.
Draco seemed to look at him for a moment. He took a deep breath and said, "I owe you my life, Mr. Selwyn. You must allow me to somehow repay you."
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Malfoy," Harry said.
"Call me Draco. Anyone who saves my life can call me by my first name," Draco said. "I insist; I simply must repay you."
"Please call me Alex, then," Harry responded, "and I insist; it really isn't necessary." He cleared his throat and continued, folding his hands in his lap. “Draco, if you could please tell me what you wanted me to do yesterday?”
Draco took a moment to collect himself and said, “Harry, I would like you to order background checks on both Mr. Zabini and Mr. Bletchley. They are to be given top priority by HR, due to yesterday’s events.”
Harry ached to ask more questions, but held himself back, not wanting to raise suspicions. “Very well, Draco,” Harry said. “When would you like to have your coffee today?”
“An hour would be great. No milk, two sugars.”
Harry nodded, and went back to his desk to order the reports.
A week passed, and Harry and Draco became fast friends. Draco even occasionally left the door open between their rooms. They talked about their lives; Harry about a slightly modified version of his school days (sans Voldemort), and Draco about his time at Hogwarts, and his mother in France.
Harry was astounded by how well they were clicking. Although Alex Selwyn was not Harry Potter, Draco and he seemed to have an undeniable chemistry. It was almost strange how well they got along, even without considering their history. However, perhaps it was the absence of those shared moments that allowed the two of them to finally allow themselves to act truly.
It made Harry a little guilty, actually, that he could not tell Draco that he was actually Harry Potter.
(Secretly, however, Harry was kind of happy Draco didn’t know. Being Harry Potter was a bit tiring sometimes, and he knew that Draco would be horrified if he knew that he had been pouring out his soul to his old enemy.)
A week after the explosion, Harry walked into his office after work to find Draco standing next to his desk, his hands fidgeting slightly. Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise, seeing him there.
“Draco,” he said. “Do you need me for something?”
“No,” Draco said. Then, he shook his head, “Well…actually, I do, but not for work.” He paused and said, “Would you go to dinner with me tonight?”
Harry smiled, “Yes, of course.”
“As a date?” Draco said. Harry had never seen Draco Malfoy seem so unsure. (Later, he would realize that that was because Draco really didn’t have much experience with relationships, with Voldemort and the company.)
“I would hope,” Harry said.
Draco grinned more widely than Harry had ever seen him before, “Good.”
That night, Harry stood in front of his mirror, straightening his dark blue shirt sleeves. He was dressed in dark wash jeans and dress shoes. He had Alex’s face on already.
This is really getting morally questionable, Harry thought. I mean, I am kind of stringing him along.
Harry was all too aware that Draco’s lack of knowledge about his identity was what allowed him to even have the chance to go out with him that night.
“Harry?” a voice called from the fireplace.
Harry spun around, to see Hermione’s head in the flames. She raised her eyebrows, “Wow. Ron told me you had gone undercover, but he never told me what a handsome man you had decided to be.”
He groaned, massaging his brow in exasperation. “Ron isn’t supposed to talk about undercover ops with anyone.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Since when do I count as just anyone, Harry? Anyway, we were going to ask you if you wanted to come by for dinner; we have a big announcement to make.”
“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Harry said. “I have plans tonight.”
Hermione looked him over, and realization appeared in her eyes. “Oh,” she said, “you’re going on a date.” She grinned broadly. Ever since he had broken up with Ginny and had come out as bisexual, Hermione had dreamed of the day that he would be happy in a relationship. “Who’s the lucky one?”
Then, however, she paused. Seeming to realize something, her eyes widened.
“Hermione…” Harry said.
“Wait a minute,” Hermione said over him. “Why are you dressed disguised as someone else?” Her brow furrowed. Her voice increasing in volume with each word, she said, “Are you dating someone who doesn’t know who you actually are? Harry!”
“Listen, Hermione, I can explain…”
“Now, you listen here, Harry,” Hermione began, “that is just plain wrong.”
“I know, Hermione, I know,” Harry said, kneeling next to the fireplace. “But he would never give me the time of day if he knew who I really was. He hates Harry Potter.”
Hermione sighed, “Somehow I doubt that’s true. After all, I’m sure you’re not changing your personality that much.”
“You don’t know who it is, Hermione.”
“Well, then, who is it?” Hermione asked.
“It’s… it’s Draco Malfoy, okay?” Harry said, unable to meet Hermione’s eyes.
There was a long pause. Then, Hermione murmured, “Oh, Harry.”
As if Harry needed anymore confirmation that his love was so hopeless.
Sixteen-year old Harry Potter was a boy with far too many expectations placed upon him, and was in far too much danger for someone of his age.
He was in the closet, as much as he could be, since he hadn’t realized he was attracted to both boys and girls.
Honestly, he was far too busy to realize his bisexuality. He had even less time to realize that his obsession with Draco Malfoy was partially fueled by a crush that never quite went away.
(Harry didn’t know it, but sixteen-year old Draco Malfoy was also a boy with far too many expectations placed upon him, and was in far too much danger for someone of his age.
He was also in the closet, but he had realized he was gay long ago. He had a fake girlfriend named Pansy Parkinson, because he knew that his father would hate him forever, and the Dark Lord might just kill him.
He simply couldn’t think about how much he thought about Harry Potter’s arse when he was supposed to be saving his family.
He just couldn’t, not even as he lay bleeding on the bathroom floor.)
An hour later, after soothing Hermione’s concerns, Harry Potter, dressed as Alex Selwyn, stood on Draco Malfoy’s doorstep. He stood there awkwardly, having already knocked.
Draco lived in a penthouse apartment; Malfoy Manor had been closed until his father’s death. It was far nicer than Harry’s flat, which was paid for predominantly by Harry’s Auror paycheck.
However, Harry stopped thinking about Draco’s nice apartment when his door opened.
Draco stood there, in a dark green, button-up shirt, and black jeans. His hair was loose around his face. Even his piercing grey eyes seemed warmer in the warm yellow lights of nighttime, although Harry may have been feeling a bit romantic.
Draco seemed taken aback by Harry’s appearance as well. He recovered more quickly than Harry however, and said, “Shall we?” Harry nodded, and took Draco’s proffered arm and they Apparated away.
They arrived outside a small muggle French restaurant called La Roux. They entered, and they were quickly seated by the maître d’. Conversation flowed easily; if Harry didn’t know better, he would have thought that they had been dating for years. That was, until Draco asked Harry a question.
“So, Alex,” Draco said. “If you had gone to Hogwarts, what house do you think you would have been in?”
Harry chewed as he thought. Should he answer honestly, or should he answer as Alex? He came to a decision, swallowed, and said, “I’m not sure. I honestly think that it is hard to sort any one person by personality traits, as everyone has aspects of all of them. Everyone is smart, in different ways, and value certain kinds of intelligence. Everyone will do anything for what they want, if they want it enough. Everyone is loyal to something. Everyone has the ability to be brave, if what’s at stake is important enough. I think that it’s limiting and that it is incredibly hard to sort anyone. I think that the entire house system at Hogwarts is stupid, to be honest. It just serves to divide the student body, and it only creates conflict. You probably got into fights with your opposing house members for no real reason. It’s ridiculous.”
“Well, what do they have at Salem Witches’ Academy?” Draco asked.
“There are no houses,” Harry replied. “We dorm with a roommate; one that is your age and gender. There’s a girls’ dorm and a boys’ dorm. We don’t have any sort of internal school competitions. We compete against various schools in North America in Quidditch and other sports. Those can get a bit rowdy.” Harry grinned.
“Did you play Quidditch, Alex?” Draco asked, with a grin.
“Yeah, I was a seeker,” he smiled. “How about you?”
“Me too!” Draco said.
“May be we could play with a Snitch sometime,” Harry said. He grinned lecherously, “We could even get dressed in our old uniforms.”
Draco fumbled with his fork briefly, and blushed; he had pictured him in his Quidditch uniform seeking something other than a snitch. Harry felt a surge of triumph.
Later that night, after he and Draco had parted, Harry lay in bed, thinking about the success of his date. They had kissed on his doorstep before Draco had Disapparated away. He touched his lips lightly with one hand, before letting it drop to his side. He felt ridiculous; he was acting like a love-struck teenager. At least that’s what he told himself as the bottom of his stomach fell out.
Really, he simply knew that this was going to end all too quickly. Soon, Draco would know that Alex Selwyn was really Harry Potter.
Harry knew that his heart may not survive it.
When Harry entered his office at nine o’clock the next morning, he saw his large stack of mail. He sighed and looked back at Draco’s office with a forlorn expression. It was dark as Draco had a meeting early that morning with Theodore Nott.
He opened the first package labeled, “Confidential: Miles Bletchley Background Report.” Although Harry had run his own background report on the man after he had raised his suspicions, he wanted to read what the private sector had found on him. He was disappointed; the results were the same. It was as if the man had disappeared completely from the time that his parents died during the war until he began work at Malfoy Corp.
He sighed, and opened the package on Blaise. It was far thicker than the file on Miles. Blaise spent the war in Italy, where it appeared that Italian Aurors had quite a time with him. He apparently was rebelling from his mother forcing him to abandon his friends. However, when he returned to England after the War, his record cleared of any problems. He went into business with Draco Malfoy and opened his first nightclub. Business boomed, and he kept his nose clean. He became one of the richest men in Wizarding Europe, after Malfoy and just above Harry himself. (Harry was maintaining his place that he attained via his inheritance through investments, which were made for him by an advisor.) He was now VP of Malfoy Corp. and the owner of several nightclubs.
So, there was nothing new uncovered.
Harry sighed, and knew that both men seemed suspicious. However, he also realized that Zabini was slightly more. He had more of a history of crime, one of the murders had happened right outside his nightclub, and he had had that fight with Draco just moments before the bomb had gone off. Harry somehow didn’t feel right about Zabini doing it though. Why would he side with an anti-pureblood group? Miles Bletchley seemed to have a greater motive, with the deaths of his parents. But Miles didn’t seem any more likely; he seemed too happy.
He quickly tore a piece of paper from his notepad, and wrote a quick note to Robards, telling him to take Zabini into custody. He rolled it up, and attached it to the leg of the owl sitting in the cage in the corner of the office. He opened the window, and the bird flew out.
Harry sat back down and got back to work. Moments later, Draco walked in. The moment he saw Harry, a smile spread across his face. “Alex,” he said. “Good Morning!” He went over to him, and placed a quick peck on his lips.
Harry blushed lightly, “Draco, you can’t do that at work.”
“I know,” Draco said. “But we’re all alone and I had such a good time with you last night.”
Harry smiled, “Me too.”
Draco stepped away from him and walked into his office; the smile fell from Harry’s face like a skydiver without a parachute. Harry needed to tell Draco who he was, and soon. Otherwise, nothing he had gained with him would be salvageable.
Twenty minutes later the owl flew back in the room, swooping down and depositing the letter on his desk. He unrolled it as Draco called from the other room, “What just arrived?”
“Oh,” Harry said, beginning to read. “It’s just a note from Nott. He needs to reschedule your meeting with him this afternoon.”
“I see,” Draco said. “Fit him in somewhere over the next couple of days, please?”
“I will,” Harry responded.
The note read:
Dear Auror Potter,
We will arrest him tonight. I understand your need to wrap up any loose ends. Please do so in a timely fashion.
Head Auror Robards
“Draco,” Harry said. “Would you like to go out tonight? I’d like to take you out.” He swiveled in his chair, looking at Draco through the doorway.
Draco looked up, grinning broadly. “Alex, this is all rather sudden, but all right. Could we leave straight from work though? I have an appointment at seven-thirty, as you know, in the conference room downstairs. The meeting ought to get out by eight though.”
“Sounds good,” Harry said.
Then, he stood and walked into Draco’s office, kicking the door shut behind him. He walked over to him, and sat down in his lap. He bent down and gave him a searing kiss.
When they separated, Draco’s lips were swollen, and his pupils were blown out. There was a moment of silence, before the corner of Draco’s mouth pulled into a mischievous smirk. “Why, Alex, I thought you said that we shouldn’t do any PDA at work,” Draco drawled.
“Well, Draco, I decided I would seize the moment,” Harry replied with a small smile. “However, if you want me to go back to my desk, that’s fine.”
“No… no,” Draco said, placing his hands on Harry’s butt and pulling him closer to him. “I don’t think I want you to do that… I’m just starting to have fun.”
He pressed his lips against Harry’s and Harry smiled into the kiss as his eyes fluttered shut.
That evening, at around seven-thirty, Harry sat behind his desk, sorting through the papers on his desk. The bright colors of sunset shone in the sky. Oranges, reds, and pinks filtered through the window, and displayed the colors on the walls of Harry’s office.
Harry knew that Alex Selwyn made quite a picture in his blue bespoke suit, cleaning his desk sadly. He was going to miss Alex a lot… his life was a lot simpler. He was anonymous as Alex; he could be with Draco. Harry knew that Draco was going to be very angry when he realized Harry’s true identity… everything might be over then. May be, however, Draco could see past it. At least, that is what Harry hoped. He knew that it would be difficult for a while, but he couldn’t give up hope.
He just couldn’t.
He had an entire plan that night to tell Draco. First, they would go to the theater and see Draco’s favorite play. Then, they would go to supper at a nice Italian restaurant Harry knew. Everything would go perfectly, and Harry would take Draco back to his place, to tell him the truth. Beyond that, Harry had no plan. Everything would rest on Draco.
He was almost finished cleaning his desk when he heard a knock on the office door.
“Come in,” he called.
The door opened, and Harry looked up.
Miles Bletchley stood in the doorway, as the light outside grew bloodier.
Harry’s brow furrowed. “Mr. Bletchley,” he said, “what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting with Mr. Malfoy in the conference room downstairs?”
His hand fell towards his pocket that held his wand.
However, Bletchley took out his wand more quickly. Harry swore mentally. Bletchley pointed it at Harry, and Harry raised both hands in surrender.
Bletchley looked at Harry tearfully, “I am so sorry, Mr. Selwyn.” He took in a shaky breath, “Stupefy.”
Harry fell back and his world went black.
When Harry awoke, he saw first Draco tied up with rope to the chair opposite him, gagged by a cloth similar to the one he felt in his own mouth. The only source of light in the room was a candle on a wooden table between them that let off a yellow glow. In each corner of the room stood a man, shrouded in darkness, each in a black suit. The sky was completely dark outside.
“Ah,” a man’s voice said, “Mr. Selwyn, you are awake.” Harry looked to the side and saw two Mr. Bletchley’s, identical in face and stature. That was where the similarities ended. One twin looked like part of the Mob, in a black pinstripe suit, and looked completely confident. The other stood slightly behind him, crouched into himself, close to tears, in his typical business suit.
“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Selwyn,” he said. “I’m not sure if you remember me; we were at Hogwarts together. I’m Kevin Bletchley. I know you know my brother, Miles.” Miles whimpered slightly behind him. “We are the founders of the League of Justice. I, however, am the commander.”
Miles looked up sharply. “Kev,” he said, “I thought we were both in charge.”
Kevin looked at him over his shoulder, “Please, Miles, don’t be ridiculous.” The man in the corner behind Miles lifted his pistol and fired at the back of Miles’ head. Miles fell forward, dead instantly. Draco jumped a little at the shot. Kevin shrugged, “He had outlasted his usefulness.” He paced a little, before taking the cloths out of his and Draco’s mouths. “Please,” he said. “Talk.”
“Why are you doing this?” Draco yelled.
“Calm down, honey,” Kevin said. “Too loud, and you’ll be like my brother.” Draco looked on dispassionately and Kevin continued, “I want to kill all inbred, pureblood scum, like those who killed my parents. So my brother and I set up this whole organization to take them out. We’ve already killed a Bulstrode bitch, a Nott bastard, and a Gant whore. It’s only a matter of time before we eradicate all of you. Then, the true superiors will rule.”
“Weren’t those the same ideals that led to the past Wars?” Harry said.
Kevin walked up to Harry and punched him in the face. Harry felt his teeth jostle. “Never insinuate that we are the same as them,” Kevin snarled in his face, then he spat at Harry. Spittle landed on his face.
“Why did you take Alex as well?” Draco pleaded, “It’s me that you really want. Just let him go, I’ll do anything!”
“Hmmm… ” Kevin smirked. “No. He’s still pureblood scum that deserves to die, even if he is American. Also, he can be used to torture you very easily, and vice versa, of course.” He began to walk towards Draco, and Harry prepared for the worst, when a loud voice boomed from outside, amplified by a Sonorus Incantation.
“Mr. Bletchley, we know that you are in there. We both know how this is going to end. Let your hostages go, and come quietly,” Robards’ voice said.
Kevin looked outside, and said, “Fuck.” He looked around the room and said, motioning towards the men, “You two, come with me. You other two, guard the door. Make sure they don’t escape.” Everyone left the room, except for Harry and Draco. The door shut.
“Oh my God, Alex,” Draco said. “Are you okay? I am so sorry; this is my fault. You were waiting for me!”
“I’m fine, really,” Harry said. He began to feel the queasiness in his stomach associated with his body changing from the glamour spells; they were wearing off. He had planned for them to vanish naturally when they were back at his place. It was bad timing now, though. “I just have something to tell you. It’s import-Fuck!” His bones began to compress as he grew shorter. “You see I’m not who I said I am…”
“Alex?” Draco whispered.
“I’m really-,” Harry began.
“Potter,” Draco spat. “I knew it was too good to be true. It was all just a joke.”
“Draco-.” Harry began.
“It doesn’t matter,” Draco growled. “Just use your Auror training and get us out of here, Potter.” His grey eyes seemed to grow cool in an instant. Harry’s heart cracked.
“All right,” he said. Harry cast a spell silently and wandlessly, levitating the glass of the oil lamp from the rest of it, and the flame upwards. He brought it behind his back, burning the rope until it broke. His wrists were red when he finally got it away. He took his hands from behind his back and untied his ankles from his chair. He then went to Draco and released him.
“Can you fight with your hands? We don’t have wands,” Harry said. Draco nodded in response. “Help me kick down the door,” Harry ordered. “On three: one…two…three!”
The door fell off its hinges. The men in black jumped into action, but Harry and Draco had surprise on their side. After a quick tussle, the men fell to the ground, unconscious. Harry and Draco searched the two men for their wands…and found their own.
Well, these people aren’t winning any points for intelligence, Harry thought. “Come on!” Harry said. “I need to get you out of here, since you’re a civilian.” They rushed to the door of the building, taking out the League’s men as they went.
When they arrived at the front door of the building, they rushed through it, and were quickly taken in mediwizards and mediwitches to look them over. They were finished with Draco long before they finished with Harry thanks to the burns on his wrists.
Draco stood when they were finished with him, and went over to Harry. “Potter,” he spat. “I will only tell you this once. I never want to hear your voice again. I would prefer it if you would not seek me out, and avoid me at all costs. I would prefer to never see your face again. If you attempt to contact me, I will not be held accountable for my actions. Do you understand me?” Harry sat there, mouth gaping. “I shall take your silence as an acceptance of my demands. Goodbye, Potter.”
Then, Draco walked away, his spine straight in his black suit.
Harry could not see anything but him walking away. Tears sprung to his eyes, but he would not let them fall. He felt a deep pain in his stomach and in his chest. He felt like his world was shattering, but nothing at all simultaneously.
A mediwitch returned with an anti-burn spray. She looked at him and said, “Auror Potter, do your wrists hurt badly?”
“No,” Harry said, looking down.
(Meanwhile, across the city, Draco apparated in front of the Nott household. Pansy opened the door. She ushered him inside. It was then that Draco broke.)
A week after the hostage situation, Harry stood in Andromeda’s doorway. “I wish you would tell me what’s troubling you, Harry,” she said, cupping her cheek in her hand.
“Really, I’m fine, Andromeda,” Harry said. “I’ll see you at Teddy’s party in a few days.”
“Yes, in two days,” she nodded. Harry turned and walked outside, apparating a few feet from the door.
She shut the door behind him quietly as Teddy was already asleep. She sighed, wishing Harry would confide in her. She knew he was troubled, and she counted Harry as a friend, since he spent so much time with Teddy. Andromeda simply wanted to help.
Then, she saw Narcissa’s owl fly through the window out of the corner of her eye. She removed the letter from the owl’s leg and read:
I hope this letter finds you well. Draco and I can hardly wait for Teddy’s birthday party! However, something quite troubling has happened to Draco. He came to visit me in France over the weekend, and seemed all out of sorts. When I asked him what was the matter, he began to cry in a way that I hadn’t seen since he was a small boy. He didn’t even cry during the war, Dromeda, so I was quite concerned. He managed to say that he had started dating his Personal Assistant, but he had discovered that he was actually an undercover Auror, investigating a murder case. I did not manage to get any more information out of him, however. My poor boy! Can you imagine someone horrid enough to do such a thing? Simply dreadful.
Well, I shall see you on Friday. We can speak more then.
The pieces flew together in Andromeda’s head, as she realized who the mysterious Auror was. She quickly flew to her desk and began to write…
Two days later, Harry stood across the room from Draco. He had forgotten that he would be attending the party as well, as he served as an uncle to Teddy as well. He stared at him longingly, as Draco did his best to forget his presence. He sighed.
He felt a light tugging on his sweater. “Uncle Harry,” Teddy said. “I have a question.”
“Yeah, Teddy,” Harry said, looking down at him.
“Why don’t you and Uncle Draco talk to each other even though you look at each other like how Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron look at each other when they’re being all mushy?” Teddy cocked his head.
Harry looked at Teddy, “Your Uncle Harry did something that he knew was bad, but he had no choice. Uncle Draco won’t forgive him, and for good reason.”
“That’s stupid,” Teddy wrinkled his nose. He pursed his lips for a moment then said, I wanna play a game with you, but I have friends here right now. Could we play it after they leave at eight?”
Relieved that he had dropped the subject, Harry said, “Sure, kiddo.”
Teddy nodded seriously, and walked away.
“Teddy?” Harry said. “Are you ready to play?”
Teddy turned away from Victoire and said exasperatedly, looking every bit like his late father, “In a minute. I’ll be right up.” Then he turned back to her, talking to her animatedly.
Harry laughed silently as he made his way up to Teddy’s room. He looked inside the room and he stilled in the doorway.
Draco Malfoy sat there, looking quite out of place in the child’s bedroom. He had a peaceful little smile on his face. He looked up, sensing someone’s presence, and the smile fell from his face.
They rested there awkwardly for a moment, before Teddy rushed in, pushing past Harry in the doorway. He sat next to Draco on the rug.
“Uncle Harry,” Teddy said seriously. “Could you come here?”
Harry walked over and sat. Draco would not meet his eyes. Harry just felt numb.
“We’re not really going to play a game,” Teddy said. “Uncle Harry, Uncle Draco, you’ve been acting really weird all night. I want you guys to fix it before you come downstairs or I’ll be very upset!” Teddy threatened. He then smiled, “I’ll be downstairs drinking juice.” He then stood and ran downstairs. Harry was again struck by how much Teddy was like his father.
They sat there for a moment in awkward silence before Andromeda and Narcissa walked by. They stopped in the doorway. “For the record,” Andromeda said. “I agree with my grandson.”
“As do I,” Narcissa said. “We were going to ambush you ourselves, but Teddy seemed to do a good enough job. Without our interference, I might add. We’re going to lock you in there until you rectify what has happened.”
The door shut and locked with a click. Harry and Draco sat there awkwardly for a moment. Harry shifted slightly, before he said, “Draco, I-.”
Draco interrupted him, “I just don’t understand one thing, Potter.” He swallowed, before he spat out, “Why would you, Scarhead, go out on a date with me if you were hiding who you were? I mean, you didn’t pressure me to go to bed with you, so it can’t be that. It goes against all of your stupid Gryffindor justice. So, why, Potter?”
“I knew it was the only chance I was going to get with you,” Harry said. “I’ve been attracted to you since I was in my sixth year at Hogwarts, even though I didn’t really realize it. Then I got a case to go undercover as your PA. However, as we spent time together I realized that I didn’t just find you attractive, but that I was growing to love you.” Harry tried to lean towards Draco, but he backed away. Harry swallowed. “But I also was wracked with guilt. I had planned to reveal my true identity the night we were held hostage. I really am sorry that I did this to you Draco, but I had no choice.”
“Yes, you did,” Draco said. “You could have told me who you were… before you took me out.”
“I didn’t know that that wouldn’t have compromised everything,” Harry said. “There was a lot at stake; justice for three lives depended on my success.”
“I could have told you that Blaise wasn’t a double agent,” Draco said. “I knew that there was something suspicious about Bletchley too.”
“I really am sorry,” Harry said. “I know this might be overstepping, but could you please give us another chance? Please?”
Draco seemed to think it over for a moment. “I don’t know, Potter…”
“We’ll have a great time; I promise,” Harry said. “I owe you a date anyway, remember?”
“How much of Alex was you, Potter?” Draco said. “I need to know that first.”
“The only difference between Alex and me were our backgrounds and our appearances. Our personalities, our habits, and our beliefs are the same,” Harry said.
“It’ll take me a long time to trust you again, Potter,” Draco said. “But I’ll go on your date, if only to get my mother off of my back.”
Harry grinned broadly. “We can go to the coffee shop across from your office. If everything goes well, we can go to supper after. Does Sunday at three sound good?”
Draco nodded, and smiled, “It’s a date.”
The door unlocked.
The coffee house was filled with small tables surrounded by a mish-mash of eclectic chairs. Behind the counter were two baristas, who looked to be in their early twenties. The door opened, and the bell attached the door jingled.
Draco and Harry walked in awkwardly. They didn't quite know what to say to each other anymore, although words had come so easily in Teddy’s bedroom. Harry felt the awkwardness left behind by his deception; Draco didn't know where Alex Selwyn ended and Harry Potter began.
Harry broke the silence. "Why don't you go find us a table? I can go get us the coffees."
Draco nodded, and began to reach for his wallet inside his pocket, "Let me just-."
Harry interrupted him, "I've got it. After all, I asked you out."
Draco smiled graciously. "All right, I want..."
"Coffee, two sugars," Harry grinned. "I know."
Draco smiled back at him. The old ways were mixing with the new ones.
It was a new beginning.