Malicious Intent - Part 15 (H/D)
Apr. 7th, 2019 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sesheta66Title: Malicious Intent – Part 15
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5K
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Summary: Harry’s world is upended when he’s asked to investigate a break-in and threats levied at Draco Malfoy. He’s never told anyone about their short-lived but intense relationship, and now, five years after it ended, doesn’t seem the time. He’s a professional, so he will investigate, find and arrest the culprit, and get on with his life. What else can he do?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
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Malicious Intent – Part 15
After getting the update from Mac – no change in the situation at the house in Romford – Harry marched out of the Ministry, needing to walk off the anger still coiling in his gut before he Apparated anywhere. How dare Ron corner Harry like that, as though he were the wronged party! Fuck, Harry wanted to punch something. After a few blocks, he stopped clenching his fists and slowed to a normal pace. Taking a few deep breaths for good measure, he felt calm enough to Apparate.
Mac had been right: the wards were strong. But there didn’t seem to be any complicated spells at work – just your run of the mill wards to keep intruders out and to warn of any breach. Harry was able to first ascertain no one was present, then set his own concealed alarm around the property without disturbing the existing wards. He added to that a handy little tracker spell that would attach itself surreptitiously to anyone crossing the perimeter of his alarm spell. Satisfied with his work, and with nothing else to do but wait, he returned to the hotel to get some work done.
He gave it up as a lost cause about an hour later. His mind kept going back to his conversation with Ron and he quickly got himself worked up all over again. He could have gone to the office to nudge along some of his other cases, but he didn’t want to risk running into Ron again, not while he was this angry. He opted instead to return home, knowing that, even if she hadn’t moved out yet, Ginny would be at work.
When he arrived, he walked through the place, noting missing items here and there – Ginny’s things that had, for a time, become a part of their collective things. On the surface, it appeared that she’d taken him at his word and had removed all of her belongings. But, recalling his conversation with Draco the evening before, he thought about how she might try to manipulate the situation. He cast a few spells to detect anything belonging to her and, sure enough, several items he knew to be important to her were tucked away in different places throughout the house.
Not that he wanted to think of Ginny as manipulative, but Harry acknowledged the logic in Draco’s assessment of her. She may have legitimately missed packing those items, but it did strike Harry as odd that she’d only left behind things she would most certainly want to take with her. And it didn’t escape his notice that they weren’t placed in the most intuitive places, but rather in places out of sight, where Harry wouldn’t see them right away.
He summoned all of her remaining things and placed them in a box. Not sure of where she was staying, and not sure if she’d even told her parents yet, he didn’t want to send the box on to the Burrow. Likewise, he didn’t think it appropriate to send it by owl, potentially raising questions when a box of her own things got delivered to her wherever she happened to be at the time. Instead, he scribbled out a note to her.
That done, Harry cleaned up a bit, had a late lunch and gathered a few more things to take back to the hotel. Ginny’s reply came just as he’d finished packing his bag.
He rolled his eyes at the jibe and tossed the note on top of the box. He marked it with her name and left it near the fireplace, in case she decided to come by earlier. Then he set monitoring spells on the house, picked up his bag, and Apparated back to the hotel room.
The rest of the day was more productive and by five o’clock, he figured the way would be clear for him to return to his office to collect his other files. He reasoned that he’d get far more work done at the hotel – at least for a few more days – where he didn’t need to come into contact with Ron again. He needed to focus and be ready to respond the moment his tracking spell was activated.
An hour or so after he’d picked up his files at the Ministry – with no unfortunate run-ins, thank Merlin – Harry had just set aside his work for the day and was contemplating food – some shepherd’s pie and a pint wouldn’t go amiss – when a loud crack interrupted his thoughts.
"Oh," Draco said. "Sorry for interrupting."
"Hey." Harry couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. He was pleased for the company. Working out of the hotel had its advantages – privacy and no interruptions topping the list – but there was something to be said for having human contact. And, well, it was Draco. He quickly dismissed that train of thought, not willing to delve into his own motivations. "No worries. I’ve just finished." He nodded towards the files he’d just shoved aside.
"I see." Draco looked from the files back to Harry, fidgeting where he stood. "I thought you’d have returned home by now."
Harry ran his hand over the back of his neck and gave a sheepish grin. "Yeah, well I heard what you said and did a sweep of the house." Draco raised his brows, an ’Oh, really?’ hanging silently between them. Harry nodded. "She’d left a handful of things tucked away in different places."
Draco snorted. "Ah, the perfect excuse to come back, again and again, opening the door for her to appeal to your senses ... or whatever."
"Yeah, so I packed up all her things in a box and sent her an owl to come get it. She’s out of town right now, so she should drop by in a couple of days, but ... well, I think I’ll just stay here until she’s taken her stuff."
Draco smirked. "You know, I think I underestimated you."
Harry grinned in response. "People always do."
"Indeed," Draco said. After a few beats of silence, he said, "Okay, I’ll get out of your hair, then. I didn’t mean to intrude. I just –"
"No, I don’t mind. Stick around for a bit."
Draco hesitated before glancing back at the files. "Oh, do you have an update on the case?"
"Not really, no." He ran his hands through his hair, a habit he had when his impatience got the better of him. "I went by the house and set some tracking and monitoring spells for now. I didn’t want to risk tripping their wards or otherwise alerting them to my presence, and the fact that we’d traced their transmissions, so I didn’t go inside. Now it’s just wait and see."
"Oh." Draco gave him a curious look. "I’m fine going back home. You don’t need to –"
"No, it’s fine. I’d like the company, actually."
"Really?"
"Yes, really." Harry knew it was foolish, that he was playing with fire. He was working on Draco’s case. He needed to keep professional distance. But – despite their past and all the baggage that came with it – he’d quickly become used to Draco’s company. And – discounting the fact that his emotions had been in a constant state of upheaval since he’d come back into Harry’s life – on the most part, Harry had enjoyed spending time with Draco over the past week.
Draco gave a tentative smile. "Alright then." He went to the counter. "Tea?"
"Maybe later." Throwing caution to the wind, Harry said, "I think I’d rather have a beer right now, if you’re up for it."
"Oh. Um, okay. Sure. Did you want to go downstairs?"
Harry shook his head and got up. "Not really. I picked some up on the way over." He pulled two out of the fridge and – noting that they weren’t quite cold enough – he popped the tops, cast a chilling spell on them and passed one to Draco. "Here’s to the end of a complete train wreck of a day." He clinked his bottle against Draco’s and took a long pull, acutely aware of Draco’s eyes on him. "Ah, that’s good."
Draco sipped his in his usual, far more refined way. "So. Bad day?"
Harry took another sip, savouring the cool slide of it down his throat. Fuck, but he needed this. "Ron’s back." He didn’t elaborate.
"Ah. I take it you confronted him?"
Harry laughed and took another sip. "Nope. He confronted me, if you can believe it." He finished his beer in near-record time and got up for another.
Draco raised his brow and watched him exchange his empty bottle for a fresh one. "I’m not sure I heard that correctly. Weasley confronted you about what, exactly?" He watched as Harry opened, chilled and drank from his second beer. "No, wait. Don’t tell me. He accused you of seeing me behind his sister’s back?"
Harry choked a little on his beer. Draco sniggered as Harry coughed and spluttered until he got himself under control and could breathe again. "Shit, I hadn’t thought about that possibility." Draco rolled his eyes. "No, it was nothing like that. He just gave me shit for going to Hermione."
"Ah. Well, there’s something to be said for turning things around. Accuse the other person of wrongdoing so you can deflect from your own misdeeds."
Harry put his bottle on the table and sat down. "Yeah, well, I was having none of that."
"That’s good to hear."
"Yeah, he accosted me in an elevator, crowded me into the corner and loomed over me."
"Menacingly, no doubt." Contempt oozed from his words.
Harry snorted. "Well, he tried. Anyway, I told him to go give Ginny shit instead, since she’s the one that went to his wife."
Draco grinned as he sipped his beer. "And I’m sure you were perfectly calm, cool and polite as you were doing this?"
Harry coughed. "Well, no. I was pissed off actually." Draco smirked. "But!" Harry held his beer aloft. "I did not punch him in the face."
Draco’s face fell. "Pity."
Harry shrugged. "I was at work. I didn’t fancy getting sacked over that."
"Fair enough."
"I did, however, tell him that we’d talk, but the office wasn’t the place to do it."
"Hmm." Draco watched Harry over his bottle as he took a long draw. "So that was it?"
Harry’s face flushed as he remembered his threat to Ron. "Er, not exactly."
Draco sat forward, curiosity clearly piqued. "Do tell."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck and avoided Draco’s eyes. "Well, I sort of told him not to push me, that he was lucky I wasn’t going to report him, and that he should rememberImhissuperiorofficer." He coughed.
Draco burst out laughing. "You didn’t!"
Warmth ran up Harry’s neck to his face and he groaned. "I did."
"That’s fucking brilliant!" Draco clinked their bottles and finished off his beer, chuckling all the while. "Oh, I wish I had been there!"
Harry, embarrassed but pleased that Draco wasn’t mocking him for pulling rank, let his head flop onto his arms. "I can’t believe I said that," he mumbled into the table.
Draco got himself another beer. "I can’t believe you didn’t deck him," he countered. "He got off lucky, if you ask me."
Harry lifted his head. "You think so?"
"Fuck, yeah." He sat down and his amusement turned into a scowl. "And don’t you dare apologise to him. Or let him off the hook."
Harry slid his bottle from hand to hand, recalling the images in the Pensieve. "No chance of that." He might feel like a bit of a tit for pulling rank, but there was no way in hell he was letting Ron or Ginny off the hook for what they’d done. "I won’t be forgetting that memory you showed me anytime soon."
Draco slammed his bottle onto the table. "The Pensieve!" And he got up.
"What?" Harry scrambled to keep up with his thought process as he watched Draco cross the room.
Soon enough, Draco had the Pensieve set up on the table and was waving his hands at Harry. "Go on, then. I want to see what happened." Ah, that was what he meant. Harry chuckled as Draco looked positively set to burst with glee. And, really, how could Harry resist that?
"Alright," he said, pulling out his wand. "But I feel a bit of an idiot."
"Oh, never mind that." Draco’s eyes twinkled now. "I have got to see this."
Bemused, Harry drew the strand of memory from his temple and placed it into the basin. "There you go. Have at it."
"Oh, no," Draco said, grabbing onto Harry’s arm. "You’re coming with me!"
And Harry felt himself fall into the elevator just as the door was about to close. Sure enough, Ron’s arm came out to stop the doors closing. As Harry watched, Ron crowded him into the corner. At the time, he’d been too busy controlling his own anger to register just how aggressive Ron had been.
"He’s got balls; I’ll give him that," Draco said.
And then Harry turned it around on him, marching him back against the opposite wall, getting in his face. He felt Draco shudder beside him and turned to see his eyes glazed over in a familiar look that went right to Harry’s groin. Fuck. Draco hadn’t released his arm and he was now gripping it tighter than ever as he watched Harry dress down his friend. Harry was more interested in Draco’s reaction than reliving the memory himself. In fact, watching Draco get turned on was having pretty much the same effect on Harry. He bit his lip to hold back a moan.
He looked away from Draco just as his memory self said, "When we’re at work, I am your superior. Don’t ever forget that." Harry put his hand up to his face, embarrassment overwhelming him again, as they were drawn out of the Pensieve.
Draco released his arm and reached for his beer. Harry watched the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he drank the rest of it down, avoiding eye contact with Harry. Harry’s body thrummed with desire, but before he did something incredibly stupid, he marched over to the fridge and took out two more beers. Not that his judgement around Draco would be any better with more alcohol, but he did need to calm his racing heart. This time, when he opened the bottle, he took a small sip. Enough to keep his hands and mouth occupied so they wouldn’t take it upon themselves to act on whatever his cock was thinking. Because it had perked up and Harry’s brain was struggling to focus.
After a few silent, awkward moments, Harry chanced looking at something besides the label on his beer. He was relieved to see that Draco had recovered his composure, but then his mind went back to the memory itself. "So I didn’t sound like too big an arse?"
Draco turned his head sharply and gave Harry a stern look. "Are you kidding? He deserved all that and more. I trust you plan on dishing out more like that when next you see him."
Harry’s face broke into a wide smile, embarrassment fading. "Definitely."
Draco nodded, seemingly satisfied with Harry’s response. Harry’s stomach – now no longer tense with desire – chose that moment to grumble loudly and Draco sniggered. "Hungry?"
"Er, yeah, I am. I was about to grab some supper when you arrived."
"But you didn’t want to be rude and instead invited me to stay." He rolled his eyes. "Typical."
"Actually," Harry said, holding Draco’s gaze, "I was rather pleased that you popped in and selfishly invited you to keep me company. Fortunately, you took pity on me and stayed."
"Oh, well then." Draco stood up, his cheeks turning pink. "In that case, give me a minute." He pulled out his wand. "I’ll be right back."
With a crack he was gone. A few minutes later, he returned, placing a bag on the table. He waved his wand to clear away Harry’s files, levitating them over to a smaller table. He then withdrew a tray from the bag, put it in the centre of the table and removed the cover with a flourish to reveal a platter laden with steaming food fit for a king. "Dinner is served." Another flick of his wand and a plate, cutlery and napkin appeared in front of Harry.
Harry blinked, trying to process the absurdity of the situation. He’d been sitting in a modest hotel room having a beer with his ex one minute, having contemplated shepherd’s pie not long ago, and the next minute he was being served a gourmet meal, courtesy of the same ex. "You brought me dinner?"
Draco shrugged. "Mother sent over a bloody feast for me – and another dozen guests, I’d wager – and I had leftovers. Seemed like a good idea."
Harry was having difficulty picturing Narcissa bustling around the kitchen like Molly. "Your mother sent you food?"
He rolled his eyes. "After we had supper last night, she insisted. Said something about me being far too pale and questioned if I was eating properly." Harry quietly agreed with Narcissa’s assessment and was pleased she’d done that for Draco, even though he’d not told her what was going on. "So tonight one of the house elves showed up with food to last me a week."
Ah, house elves made much more sense than Narcissa in a kitchen. "Remind me to thank her next time I see her."
Draco raised a brow in response. Harry wasn’t sure why he’d said that – it’s not like he’d have occasion to see Narcissa – but he meant it. The food smelled incredible. And just when he was getting over the fact that Draco had brought him supper, he surprised Harry by pulling a bottle of Merlot from his robes. "And, since this is not the sort of meal one consumes with a beer, I took the liberty of selecting a wine to go with it." Then he glared at Harry as though daring him to argue.
Harry held up his hands in defeat. "Far be it for me to challenge your culinary prowess."
Draco nodded. "Too right you are, Potter." He opened the bottle, conjured a couple of wine glasses, and poured them each a generous serving. He handed Harry one and raised his own. "To ending the day on a better note than it began."
Harry raised his glass to meet Draco’s. "I’ll drink to that." He sipped the wine, allowing the rich flavour to settle on his tongue for a bit before swallowing with a soft moan. "That’s really good."
Draco cleared his throat. "I nicked it from the Manor cellar a while back. Thought you could use a decent vintage after the day you’ve had." Before Harry could react, Draco motioned to the food. "Go on then."
Harry put down his glass and helped himself to a good helping of everything – veal, some fancy potato florette things, and a colourful mix of fancy looking vegetables. When he noticed Draco hadn’t taken any – or conjured a plate for himself – he asked, "Aren’t you going to join me?"
Draco raised his glass. "I’m good. I’ve already eaten." At Harry’s dubious look, he motioned to the bag, which still had what looked like a box inside. "But I’ll not say no to a second helping of the torte once you get to it."
Harry shrugged and tucked in. "Suit yourself." When the veal practically melted in his mouth, his eyes shut to better savour the flavour and he let out a soft moan. Draco coughed. "Sorry," Harry said, blinking open his eyes and catching an amused grin on Draco’s face. "It’s just that this ... well, it’s delicious. Like ... really amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever had veal this good before."
Draco smiled rather smugly. "Glad you’re enjoying it."
"So, since you’re not eating, tell me what you’ve been up to."
He shrugged. "I just went to work and –"
"No, I mean what you’ve been doing for the past five years. What made you decide to make a career of potions? How did you get into the business after school?"
Draco stiffened and looked warily at him. "Why?"
Harry had a mouthful of food, so he put down his fork and held up his hand as he swallowed. "I’m off duty. This isn’t Auror me asking, it’s just me, a friend, asking."
Draco’s eyes widened. "Friend?"
"We used to be friends, right?"
Draco relaxed but his expression remained cool. "We haven’t been that for a long time."
Harry didn’t resume eating. Instead, he took a sip of wine and studied Draco. "No, we haven’t. But ..."
"But what?" Draco asked, his voice carrying both accusation and hope.
"But I’d like to think that maybe ... well, maybe we can get past this and –" He studied his glass, not sure how to say what he was thinking.
"And?"
"We’ve both said things we didn’t mean, yeah?" Draco nodded. "And we both, apparently, still have feelings for each other."
Draco shook his head. "No, Harry, that’s not why I told you about ... why I showed you ... I don’t –"
Harry stopped him there. "I didn’t mean to suggest anything more. I just meant that, if we don’t actually hate each other, and we enjoy each other’s company ..."
Draco snorted. "Oh, yes, we’ve been getting on famously."
Harry grinned. "Fair enough. But we are right now."
Draco’s lip twitched and he tried to hide it behind his glass. "Perhaps."
"So who’s to say we can’t be friends?"
"But you’re the Auror looking into my case."
"True. But eventually I won’t be."
"I don’t know."
Harry decided not to push the issue. "Either way, I was only asking out of curiosity. Not for work. Not for any official record. Not to inform the Ministry or anyone working there. I’d just like to know. Do you like what you do? Are you glad you made the choices you did? Is your life living up to your expectations?"
Draco seemed to take him at his word and he fully relaxed. "Okay, okay. I believe you."
Harry smiled and resumed eating.
"Where to start? After we ... well, after that summer, I opted not to return to Hogwarts, but you already knew that, I’m sure. I studied for my NEWTs from home and scheduled my exams during the first session made available that winter. I did very well – nothing below an E – but wasn’t able to get work for some time. As you can imagine, not many people were pleased with the idea of hiring a former Death Eater." All this was said barely taking a breath.
He took a healthy sip of his wine before continuing. "Anyway, eventually I stumbled into an apothecary just outside of Wiltshire and the proprietor took me on as an apprentice." He smiled and Harry could practically feel his relief. "He’d seen my results – NEWT grades are routinely posted to hiring boards as a matter of course – and didn’t give a toss about my family’s reputation. He was quite up front about it, as was I. He said that he believed everyone deserves a second chance, and that he knew more than a little bit about following in his father’s misguided footsteps – not that he ever explained that in detail. But whatever his past, he wouldn’t hold me accountable for Lucius’ bad choices. My own, yes, so he hired me under strict conditions. I agreed and that was that. He never rubbed my nose in things or reminded me of my past. I worked diligently and relentlessly and learned everything I could from him. In return, he was dedicated to my education and was never hesitant to dole out praise or criticism, as warranted."
Harry smiled. "He sounds like a great guy."
"He was."
"Was?"
Draco gave a wistful smile. "He passed a couple of years ago. That’s when I moved to London. Thanks to my work with Bernard, I’d gained a solid reputation for myself – a damn sight better than the one I’d had before – and was able to sell some of my potions to cover my costs, and before long I’d found steady work that still affords me the time to brew my own potions on the side."
Harry finished his food and put down his fork. "From what I’ve heard, your potions are top notch. In demand all over Europe."
Draco’s face lit up. "They are, though I’m surprised you’d heard about that."
Harry shrugged and took another sip of the wine. "We’ve had some illegal potions cases over the years. Your name’s come up a number of times – always related to quality product. You’ve made quite a name for yourself."
"I’ve worked hard."
Harry smiled. "Well, it’s paid off." He finished his glass and Draco topped up their glasses with the last of the bottle. Harry lifted his glass in thanks and added, "So I take it you enjoy your work?"
Draco sipped from his own wine, nodded and smiled again. Harry had missed that smile, the one that lit up his eyes along with the rest of his face. The one Harry had only ever seen from him a couple of times when they’d been at school together, during moments he’d watched Draco with his friends. The one that had been missing in their sixth year, despite Harry’s near obsession with watching his every move. The one that he hadn’t seen again until after the war. The one he’d finally seen directed at him during their short time together. And now, here it was again, and Harry’s chest ached at the lost moments from the past five years.
"I do. I’d always been good at potions, but I hadn’t really developed a passion for it until I started working with Bernard. I remember him talking about it as if it were an art form. Potions are powerful and beautiful – magical, yes, but so much more. They give the creator the ability to heal, to harm, to exact pain or pleasure, to save or end life, and so much more." His eyes lit up and his voice became energised as he continued. "Someone brewing a potion can simply replicate what others have done before them – it’s a matter of following instructions, which any competent witch or wizard can do – or they can put a little of themselves into what they create, transcending the mere chemistry and base magic to make something more."
Harry grinned at his enthusiasm, but before he could say anything, Draco scowled. "What?"
Harry grinned wider. "You really love what you do, don’t you?" Draco nodded. "It shows." He clinked his glass against Draco’s. "It looks good on you."
Draco’s cheeks turned pink and his lips twitched. "Thank you. And I do love my work."
"You know," Harry said, "this Bernard sounds a lot like Snape." Draco frowned. "I mean how he was about potions. Remember our first class? He went on about how potions were the most powerful of magic, that you could even put a stopper in death."
"You remember that?" Draco looked at him curiously. "I’m surprised you remember anything from his classes."
Harry snorted. "I remember pretty much everything." At Draco’s dubious look, he added, "Every annoying, frustrating and embarrassing part."
Draco laughed. "Those moments got me through the rest of my classes, you know." Harry glared. "It was quite comforting to have at least someone on staff that didn’t fawn all over the Boy Who Lived."
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Malfoy." Draco continued to do just that. "So glad my humiliation was able to bring such joy."
"Good times." He lifted his glass and took a long sip. "Good times."
"Yeah, well ... Snape may have been great with potions, and I might have been able to learn a lot from him, but his inability to see me as anything but my father – and treat me accordingly – meant I was always on guard around him. And for someone who’d never even known magic was real before Hogwarts, it wasn’t exactly the best way to learn."
"No doubt." He’d stopped laughing now, but a wistful grin remained. "What was the deal with him and your father? You never said."
Harry shrugged. "Snape was in love with my mother, since they’d been kids, even before Hogwarts." Draco’s mouth fell open. "And my dad was a bit of a dick to him in school. He and my godfather Sirius both. Snape despised them both, but that special, down to the core hatred, he reserved for the man that was to marry Lily. Then they had me and Voldemort killed my parents a year later. Snape had tried to spare my mother, but ..."
Draco’s face had transformed from curiosity to surprise to disbelief. "Snape tried to save her?"
Harry nodded. "It’s a long story, but the condensed version is that Snape was the one to tell Voldemort about the prophecy but he hadn’t known it was about me. Once he knew it was Lily’s baby that was the subject, he begged Voldemort not to kill my mum. He was fine with him killing my dad and me, but he wanted my mother spared."
"Holy shit."
"Mmm. But Voldemort killed her too. She died to save me, and – between that and my being James Potter’s son – Snape could never forgive me for that. Or himself, for that matter."
"So that’s why he switched sides, because Voldemort killed your mother?"
Harry nodded. "But when he saw me – looking very much like my dad – he directed that hatred of my dad to the one who looked just like him."
"You."
Harry nodded. "Me."
"That explains so much."
"Yeah, that’s what I thought, too."
Draco swirled the wine in his glass and stared at it. "So that’s why you were suddenly good at potions in sixth year? Because Snape was no longer your teacher?"
"Oh, hell no." Harry snorted. "I’m alright at potions now – good enough to get me through Auror training – but that’s the extent of it." At Draco’s raised brow, he said, "I’ll let you in on my secret from sixth year some other time."
Draco looked poised to argue, but relented. "I’ll hold you to that."
Harry drained the last of his wine. "So ... you said something about a torte?"
Draco smiled and finished his own wine. "I did indeed." He removed a box from the bag he’d brought. "Why don’t you cut a couple of pieces for us while I make some tea?"
They ate their cake in companionable silence and when they were done, Harry said, "That may have been the best meal I’ve ever had. Thanks."
"You’re welcome." He watched Harry as he sipped his tea. "But while I’ll agree that this was a very good meal, if this was the best you’ve ever had, I’d say that clearly you’ve missed out on some of the finer things in life."
"Apparently I have. Who knew?"
Draco frowned. "You’re a wealthy man, Harry. You do know this, right?"
Harry nodded, though even now he found that fact rather uncomfortable.
His discomfort must have shown because Draco chuckled. "You can afford to expand your horizons, try more things." Harry nodded again. "There’s a whole world of culinary experiences just waiting for you."
Harry thought about a world of other experiences that might also await him. "Maybe you’ll have to show me sometime."
Draco smiled around his cup as he sipped his tea. "Maybe I will."
Continued in Part 16
Author:
sesheta_66Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5K
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Summary: Harry’s world is upended when he’s asked to investigate a break-in and threats levied at Draco Malfoy. He’s never told anyone about their short-lived but intense relationship, and now, five years after it ended, doesn’t seem the time. He’s a professional, so he will investigate, find and arrest the culprit, and get on with his life. What else can he do?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
To start at the beginning, click here.
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After getting the update from Mac – no change in the situation at the house in Romford – Harry marched out of the Ministry, needing to walk off the anger still coiling in his gut before he Apparated anywhere. How dare Ron corner Harry like that, as though he were the wronged party! Fuck, Harry wanted to punch something. After a few blocks, he stopped clenching his fists and slowed to a normal pace. Taking a few deep breaths for good measure, he felt calm enough to Apparate.
Mac had been right: the wards were strong. But there didn’t seem to be any complicated spells at work – just your run of the mill wards to keep intruders out and to warn of any breach. Harry was able to first ascertain no one was present, then set his own concealed alarm around the property without disturbing the existing wards. He added to that a handy little tracker spell that would attach itself surreptitiously to anyone crossing the perimeter of his alarm spell. Satisfied with his work, and with nothing else to do but wait, he returned to the hotel to get some work done.
He gave it up as a lost cause about an hour later. His mind kept going back to his conversation with Ron and he quickly got himself worked up all over again. He could have gone to the office to nudge along some of his other cases, but he didn’t want to risk running into Ron again, not while he was this angry. He opted instead to return home, knowing that, even if she hadn’t moved out yet, Ginny would be at work.
When he arrived, he walked through the place, noting missing items here and there – Ginny’s things that had, for a time, become a part of their collective things. On the surface, it appeared that she’d taken him at his word and had removed all of her belongings. But, recalling his conversation with Draco the evening before, he thought about how she might try to manipulate the situation. He cast a few spells to detect anything belonging to her and, sure enough, several items he knew to be important to her were tucked away in different places throughout the house.
Not that he wanted to think of Ginny as manipulative, but Harry acknowledged the logic in Draco’s assessment of her. She may have legitimately missed packing those items, but it did strike Harry as odd that she’d only left behind things she would most certainly want to take with her. And it didn’t escape his notice that they weren’t placed in the most intuitive places, but rather in places out of sight, where Harry wouldn’t see them right away.
He summoned all of her remaining things and placed them in a box. Not sure of where she was staying, and not sure if she’d even told her parents yet, he didn’t want to send the box on to the Burrow. Likewise, he didn’t think it appropriate to send it by owl, potentially raising questions when a box of her own things got delivered to her wherever she happened to be at the time. Instead, he scribbled out a note to her.
Ginny,
I’m back home now and noticed that you left some of your things behind. I’ve gathered them in a box for you. If I recall correctly, your schedule has you out of town until the day after tomorrow. You can drop by that evening to collect the box (Floo and wards remain open to you) or, if you’d prefer, I can send it along to the Burrow or wherever you will be staying.
I’ll wait for your reply – Harry.
That done, Harry cleaned up a bit, had a late lunch and gathered a few more things to take back to the hotel. Ginny’s reply came just as he’d finished packing his bag.
Harry,
I must have missed them in my rush to pack. I’ll come by in two days, around 7pm.
G.
He rolled his eyes at the jibe and tossed the note on top of the box. He marked it with her name and left it near the fireplace, in case she decided to come by earlier. Then he set monitoring spells on the house, picked up his bag, and Apparated back to the hotel room.
The rest of the day was more productive and by five o’clock, he figured the way would be clear for him to return to his office to collect his other files. He reasoned that he’d get far more work done at the hotel – at least for a few more days – where he didn’t need to come into contact with Ron again. He needed to focus and be ready to respond the moment his tracking spell was activated.
An hour or so after he’d picked up his files at the Ministry – with no unfortunate run-ins, thank Merlin – Harry had just set aside his work for the day and was contemplating food – some shepherd’s pie and a pint wouldn’t go amiss – when a loud crack interrupted his thoughts.
"Oh," Draco said. "Sorry for interrupting."
"Hey." Harry couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. He was pleased for the company. Working out of the hotel had its advantages – privacy and no interruptions topping the list – but there was something to be said for having human contact. And, well, it was Draco. He quickly dismissed that train of thought, not willing to delve into his own motivations. "No worries. I’ve just finished." He nodded towards the files he’d just shoved aside.
"I see." Draco looked from the files back to Harry, fidgeting where he stood. "I thought you’d have returned home by now."
Harry ran his hand over the back of his neck and gave a sheepish grin. "Yeah, well I heard what you said and did a sweep of the house." Draco raised his brows, an ’Oh, really?’ hanging silently between them. Harry nodded. "She’d left a handful of things tucked away in different places."
Draco snorted. "Ah, the perfect excuse to come back, again and again, opening the door for her to appeal to your senses ... or whatever."
"Yeah, so I packed up all her things in a box and sent her an owl to come get it. She’s out of town right now, so she should drop by in a couple of days, but ... well, I think I’ll just stay here until she’s taken her stuff."
Draco smirked. "You know, I think I underestimated you."
Harry grinned in response. "People always do."
"Indeed," Draco said. After a few beats of silence, he said, "Okay, I’ll get out of your hair, then. I didn’t mean to intrude. I just –"
"No, I don’t mind. Stick around for a bit."
Draco hesitated before glancing back at the files. "Oh, do you have an update on the case?"
"Not really, no." He ran his hands through his hair, a habit he had when his impatience got the better of him. "I went by the house and set some tracking and monitoring spells for now. I didn’t want to risk tripping their wards or otherwise alerting them to my presence, and the fact that we’d traced their transmissions, so I didn’t go inside. Now it’s just wait and see."
"Oh." Draco gave him a curious look. "I’m fine going back home. You don’t need to –"
"No, it’s fine. I’d like the company, actually."
"Really?"
"Yes, really." Harry knew it was foolish, that he was playing with fire. He was working on Draco’s case. He needed to keep professional distance. But – despite their past and all the baggage that came with it – he’d quickly become used to Draco’s company. And – discounting the fact that his emotions had been in a constant state of upheaval since he’d come back into Harry’s life – on the most part, Harry had enjoyed spending time with Draco over the past week.
Draco gave a tentative smile. "Alright then." He went to the counter. "Tea?"
"Maybe later." Throwing caution to the wind, Harry said, "I think I’d rather have a beer right now, if you’re up for it."
"Oh. Um, okay. Sure. Did you want to go downstairs?"
Harry shook his head and got up. "Not really. I picked some up on the way over." He pulled two out of the fridge and – noting that they weren’t quite cold enough – he popped the tops, cast a chilling spell on them and passed one to Draco. "Here’s to the end of a complete train wreck of a day." He clinked his bottle against Draco’s and took a long pull, acutely aware of Draco’s eyes on him. "Ah, that’s good."
Draco sipped his in his usual, far more refined way. "So. Bad day?"
Harry took another sip, savouring the cool slide of it down his throat. Fuck, but he needed this. "Ron’s back." He didn’t elaborate.
"Ah. I take it you confronted him?"
Harry laughed and took another sip. "Nope. He confronted me, if you can believe it." He finished his beer in near-record time and got up for another.
Draco raised his brow and watched him exchange his empty bottle for a fresh one. "I’m not sure I heard that correctly. Weasley confronted you about what, exactly?" He watched as Harry opened, chilled and drank from his second beer. "No, wait. Don’t tell me. He accused you of seeing me behind his sister’s back?"
Harry choked a little on his beer. Draco sniggered as Harry coughed and spluttered until he got himself under control and could breathe again. "Shit, I hadn’t thought about that possibility." Draco rolled his eyes. "No, it was nothing like that. He just gave me shit for going to Hermione."
"Ah. Well, there’s something to be said for turning things around. Accuse the other person of wrongdoing so you can deflect from your own misdeeds."
Harry put his bottle on the table and sat down. "Yeah, well, I was having none of that."
"That’s good to hear."
"Yeah, he accosted me in an elevator, crowded me into the corner and loomed over me."
"Menacingly, no doubt." Contempt oozed from his words.
Harry snorted. "Well, he tried. Anyway, I told him to go give Ginny shit instead, since she’s the one that went to his wife."
Draco grinned as he sipped his beer. "And I’m sure you were perfectly calm, cool and polite as you were doing this?"
Harry coughed. "Well, no. I was pissed off actually." Draco smirked. "But!" Harry held his beer aloft. "I did not punch him in the face."
Draco’s face fell. "Pity."
Harry shrugged. "I was at work. I didn’t fancy getting sacked over that."
"Fair enough."
"I did, however, tell him that we’d talk, but the office wasn’t the place to do it."
"Hmm." Draco watched Harry over his bottle as he took a long draw. "So that was it?"
Harry’s face flushed as he remembered his threat to Ron. "Er, not exactly."
Draco sat forward, curiosity clearly piqued. "Do tell."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck and avoided Draco’s eyes. "Well, I sort of told him not to push me, that he was lucky I wasn’t going to report him, and that he should rememberImhissuperiorofficer." He coughed.
Draco burst out laughing. "You didn’t!"
Warmth ran up Harry’s neck to his face and he groaned. "I did."
"That’s fucking brilliant!" Draco clinked their bottles and finished off his beer, chuckling all the while. "Oh, I wish I had been there!"
Harry, embarrassed but pleased that Draco wasn’t mocking him for pulling rank, let his head flop onto his arms. "I can’t believe I said that," he mumbled into the table.
Draco got himself another beer. "I can’t believe you didn’t deck him," he countered. "He got off lucky, if you ask me."
Harry lifted his head. "You think so?"
"Fuck, yeah." He sat down and his amusement turned into a scowl. "And don’t you dare apologise to him. Or let him off the hook."
Harry slid his bottle from hand to hand, recalling the images in the Pensieve. "No chance of that." He might feel like a bit of a tit for pulling rank, but there was no way in hell he was letting Ron or Ginny off the hook for what they’d done. "I won’t be forgetting that memory you showed me anytime soon."
Draco slammed his bottle onto the table. "The Pensieve!" And he got up.
"What?" Harry scrambled to keep up with his thought process as he watched Draco cross the room.
Soon enough, Draco had the Pensieve set up on the table and was waving his hands at Harry. "Go on, then. I want to see what happened." Ah, that was what he meant. Harry chuckled as Draco looked positively set to burst with glee. And, really, how could Harry resist that?
"Alright," he said, pulling out his wand. "But I feel a bit of an idiot."
"Oh, never mind that." Draco’s eyes twinkled now. "I have got to see this."
Bemused, Harry drew the strand of memory from his temple and placed it into the basin. "There you go. Have at it."
"Oh, no," Draco said, grabbing onto Harry’s arm. "You’re coming with me!"
And Harry felt himself fall into the elevator just as the door was about to close. Sure enough, Ron’s arm came out to stop the doors closing. As Harry watched, Ron crowded him into the corner. At the time, he’d been too busy controlling his own anger to register just how aggressive Ron had been.
"He’s got balls; I’ll give him that," Draco said.
And then Harry turned it around on him, marching him back against the opposite wall, getting in his face. He felt Draco shudder beside him and turned to see his eyes glazed over in a familiar look that went right to Harry’s groin. Fuck. Draco hadn’t released his arm and he was now gripping it tighter than ever as he watched Harry dress down his friend. Harry was more interested in Draco’s reaction than reliving the memory himself. In fact, watching Draco get turned on was having pretty much the same effect on Harry. He bit his lip to hold back a moan.
He looked away from Draco just as his memory self said, "When we’re at work, I am your superior. Don’t ever forget that." Harry put his hand up to his face, embarrassment overwhelming him again, as they were drawn out of the Pensieve.
Draco released his arm and reached for his beer. Harry watched the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he drank the rest of it down, avoiding eye contact with Harry. Harry’s body thrummed with desire, but before he did something incredibly stupid, he marched over to the fridge and took out two more beers. Not that his judgement around Draco would be any better with more alcohol, but he did need to calm his racing heart. This time, when he opened the bottle, he took a small sip. Enough to keep his hands and mouth occupied so they wouldn’t take it upon themselves to act on whatever his cock was thinking. Because it had perked up and Harry’s brain was struggling to focus.
After a few silent, awkward moments, Harry chanced looking at something besides the label on his beer. He was relieved to see that Draco had recovered his composure, but then his mind went back to the memory itself. "So I didn’t sound like too big an arse?"
Draco turned his head sharply and gave Harry a stern look. "Are you kidding? He deserved all that and more. I trust you plan on dishing out more like that when next you see him."
Harry’s face broke into a wide smile, embarrassment fading. "Definitely."
Draco nodded, seemingly satisfied with Harry’s response. Harry’s stomach – now no longer tense with desire – chose that moment to grumble loudly and Draco sniggered. "Hungry?"
"Er, yeah, I am. I was about to grab some supper when you arrived."
"But you didn’t want to be rude and instead invited me to stay." He rolled his eyes. "Typical."
"Actually," Harry said, holding Draco’s gaze, "I was rather pleased that you popped in and selfishly invited you to keep me company. Fortunately, you took pity on me and stayed."
"Oh, well then." Draco stood up, his cheeks turning pink. "In that case, give me a minute." He pulled out his wand. "I’ll be right back."
With a crack he was gone. A few minutes later, he returned, placing a bag on the table. He waved his wand to clear away Harry’s files, levitating them over to a smaller table. He then withdrew a tray from the bag, put it in the centre of the table and removed the cover with a flourish to reveal a platter laden with steaming food fit for a king. "Dinner is served." Another flick of his wand and a plate, cutlery and napkin appeared in front of Harry.
Harry blinked, trying to process the absurdity of the situation. He’d been sitting in a modest hotel room having a beer with his ex one minute, having contemplated shepherd’s pie not long ago, and the next minute he was being served a gourmet meal, courtesy of the same ex. "You brought me dinner?"
Draco shrugged. "Mother sent over a bloody feast for me – and another dozen guests, I’d wager – and I had leftovers. Seemed like a good idea."
Harry was having difficulty picturing Narcissa bustling around the kitchen like Molly. "Your mother sent you food?"
He rolled his eyes. "After we had supper last night, she insisted. Said something about me being far too pale and questioned if I was eating properly." Harry quietly agreed with Narcissa’s assessment and was pleased she’d done that for Draco, even though he’d not told her what was going on. "So tonight one of the house elves showed up with food to last me a week."
Ah, house elves made much more sense than Narcissa in a kitchen. "Remind me to thank her next time I see her."
Draco raised a brow in response. Harry wasn’t sure why he’d said that – it’s not like he’d have occasion to see Narcissa – but he meant it. The food smelled incredible. And just when he was getting over the fact that Draco had brought him supper, he surprised Harry by pulling a bottle of Merlot from his robes. "And, since this is not the sort of meal one consumes with a beer, I took the liberty of selecting a wine to go with it." Then he glared at Harry as though daring him to argue.
Harry held up his hands in defeat. "Far be it for me to challenge your culinary prowess."
Draco nodded. "Too right you are, Potter." He opened the bottle, conjured a couple of wine glasses, and poured them each a generous serving. He handed Harry one and raised his own. "To ending the day on a better note than it began."
Harry raised his glass to meet Draco’s. "I’ll drink to that." He sipped the wine, allowing the rich flavour to settle on his tongue for a bit before swallowing with a soft moan. "That’s really good."
Draco cleared his throat. "I nicked it from the Manor cellar a while back. Thought you could use a decent vintage after the day you’ve had." Before Harry could react, Draco motioned to the food. "Go on then."
Harry put down his glass and helped himself to a good helping of everything – veal, some fancy potato florette things, and a colourful mix of fancy looking vegetables. When he noticed Draco hadn’t taken any – or conjured a plate for himself – he asked, "Aren’t you going to join me?"
Draco raised his glass. "I’m good. I’ve already eaten." At Harry’s dubious look, he motioned to the bag, which still had what looked like a box inside. "But I’ll not say no to a second helping of the torte once you get to it."
Harry shrugged and tucked in. "Suit yourself." When the veal practically melted in his mouth, his eyes shut to better savour the flavour and he let out a soft moan. Draco coughed. "Sorry," Harry said, blinking open his eyes and catching an amused grin on Draco’s face. "It’s just that this ... well, it’s delicious. Like ... really amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever had veal this good before."
Draco smiled rather smugly. "Glad you’re enjoying it."
"So, since you’re not eating, tell me what you’ve been up to."
He shrugged. "I just went to work and –"
"No, I mean what you’ve been doing for the past five years. What made you decide to make a career of potions? How did you get into the business after school?"
Draco stiffened and looked warily at him. "Why?"
Harry had a mouthful of food, so he put down his fork and held up his hand as he swallowed. "I’m off duty. This isn’t Auror me asking, it’s just me, a friend, asking."
Draco’s eyes widened. "Friend?"
"We used to be friends, right?"
Draco relaxed but his expression remained cool. "We haven’t been that for a long time."
Harry didn’t resume eating. Instead, he took a sip of wine and studied Draco. "No, we haven’t. But ..."
"But what?" Draco asked, his voice carrying both accusation and hope.
"But I’d like to think that maybe ... well, maybe we can get past this and –" He studied his glass, not sure how to say what he was thinking.
"And?"
"We’ve both said things we didn’t mean, yeah?" Draco nodded. "And we both, apparently, still have feelings for each other."
Draco shook his head. "No, Harry, that’s not why I told you about ... why I showed you ... I don’t –"
Harry stopped him there. "I didn’t mean to suggest anything more. I just meant that, if we don’t actually hate each other, and we enjoy each other’s company ..."
Draco snorted. "Oh, yes, we’ve been getting on famously."
Harry grinned. "Fair enough. But we are right now."
Draco’s lip twitched and he tried to hide it behind his glass. "Perhaps."
"So who’s to say we can’t be friends?"
"But you’re the Auror looking into my case."
"True. But eventually I won’t be."
"I don’t know."
Harry decided not to push the issue. "Either way, I was only asking out of curiosity. Not for work. Not for any official record. Not to inform the Ministry or anyone working there. I’d just like to know. Do you like what you do? Are you glad you made the choices you did? Is your life living up to your expectations?"
Draco seemed to take him at his word and he fully relaxed. "Okay, okay. I believe you."
Harry smiled and resumed eating.
"Where to start? After we ... well, after that summer, I opted not to return to Hogwarts, but you already knew that, I’m sure. I studied for my NEWTs from home and scheduled my exams during the first session made available that winter. I did very well – nothing below an E – but wasn’t able to get work for some time. As you can imagine, not many people were pleased with the idea of hiring a former Death Eater." All this was said barely taking a breath.
He took a healthy sip of his wine before continuing. "Anyway, eventually I stumbled into an apothecary just outside of Wiltshire and the proprietor took me on as an apprentice." He smiled and Harry could practically feel his relief. "He’d seen my results – NEWT grades are routinely posted to hiring boards as a matter of course – and didn’t give a toss about my family’s reputation. He was quite up front about it, as was I. He said that he believed everyone deserves a second chance, and that he knew more than a little bit about following in his father’s misguided footsteps – not that he ever explained that in detail. But whatever his past, he wouldn’t hold me accountable for Lucius’ bad choices. My own, yes, so he hired me under strict conditions. I agreed and that was that. He never rubbed my nose in things or reminded me of my past. I worked diligently and relentlessly and learned everything I could from him. In return, he was dedicated to my education and was never hesitant to dole out praise or criticism, as warranted."
Harry smiled. "He sounds like a great guy."
"He was."
"Was?"
Draco gave a wistful smile. "He passed a couple of years ago. That’s when I moved to London. Thanks to my work with Bernard, I’d gained a solid reputation for myself – a damn sight better than the one I’d had before – and was able to sell some of my potions to cover my costs, and before long I’d found steady work that still affords me the time to brew my own potions on the side."
Harry finished his food and put down his fork. "From what I’ve heard, your potions are top notch. In demand all over Europe."
Draco’s face lit up. "They are, though I’m surprised you’d heard about that."
Harry shrugged and took another sip of the wine. "We’ve had some illegal potions cases over the years. Your name’s come up a number of times – always related to quality product. You’ve made quite a name for yourself."
"I’ve worked hard."
Harry smiled. "Well, it’s paid off." He finished his glass and Draco topped up their glasses with the last of the bottle. Harry lifted his glass in thanks and added, "So I take it you enjoy your work?"
Draco sipped from his own wine, nodded and smiled again. Harry had missed that smile, the one that lit up his eyes along with the rest of his face. The one Harry had only ever seen from him a couple of times when they’d been at school together, during moments he’d watched Draco with his friends. The one that had been missing in their sixth year, despite Harry’s near obsession with watching his every move. The one that he hadn’t seen again until after the war. The one he’d finally seen directed at him during their short time together. And now, here it was again, and Harry’s chest ached at the lost moments from the past five years.
"I do. I’d always been good at potions, but I hadn’t really developed a passion for it until I started working with Bernard. I remember him talking about it as if it were an art form. Potions are powerful and beautiful – magical, yes, but so much more. They give the creator the ability to heal, to harm, to exact pain or pleasure, to save or end life, and so much more." His eyes lit up and his voice became energised as he continued. "Someone brewing a potion can simply replicate what others have done before them – it’s a matter of following instructions, which any competent witch or wizard can do – or they can put a little of themselves into what they create, transcending the mere chemistry and base magic to make something more."
Harry grinned at his enthusiasm, but before he could say anything, Draco scowled. "What?"
Harry grinned wider. "You really love what you do, don’t you?" Draco nodded. "It shows." He clinked his glass against Draco’s. "It looks good on you."
Draco’s cheeks turned pink and his lips twitched. "Thank you. And I do love my work."
"You know," Harry said, "this Bernard sounds a lot like Snape." Draco frowned. "I mean how he was about potions. Remember our first class? He went on about how potions were the most powerful of magic, that you could even put a stopper in death."
"You remember that?" Draco looked at him curiously. "I’m surprised you remember anything from his classes."
Harry snorted. "I remember pretty much everything." At Draco’s dubious look, he added, "Every annoying, frustrating and embarrassing part."
Draco laughed. "Those moments got me through the rest of my classes, you know." Harry glared. "It was quite comforting to have at least someone on staff that didn’t fawn all over the Boy Who Lived."
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Malfoy." Draco continued to do just that. "So glad my humiliation was able to bring such joy."
"Good times." He lifted his glass and took a long sip. "Good times."
"Yeah, well ... Snape may have been great with potions, and I might have been able to learn a lot from him, but his inability to see me as anything but my father – and treat me accordingly – meant I was always on guard around him. And for someone who’d never even known magic was real before Hogwarts, it wasn’t exactly the best way to learn."
"No doubt." He’d stopped laughing now, but a wistful grin remained. "What was the deal with him and your father? You never said."
Harry shrugged. "Snape was in love with my mother, since they’d been kids, even before Hogwarts." Draco’s mouth fell open. "And my dad was a bit of a dick to him in school. He and my godfather Sirius both. Snape despised them both, but that special, down to the core hatred, he reserved for the man that was to marry Lily. Then they had me and Voldemort killed my parents a year later. Snape had tried to spare my mother, but ..."
Draco’s face had transformed from curiosity to surprise to disbelief. "Snape tried to save her?"
Harry nodded. "It’s a long story, but the condensed version is that Snape was the one to tell Voldemort about the prophecy but he hadn’t known it was about me. Once he knew it was Lily’s baby that was the subject, he begged Voldemort not to kill my mum. He was fine with him killing my dad and me, but he wanted my mother spared."
"Holy shit."
"Mmm. But Voldemort killed her too. She died to save me, and – between that and my being James Potter’s son – Snape could never forgive me for that. Or himself, for that matter."
"So that’s why he switched sides, because Voldemort killed your mother?"
Harry nodded. "But when he saw me – looking very much like my dad – he directed that hatred of my dad to the one who looked just like him."
"You."
Harry nodded. "Me."
"That explains so much."
"Yeah, that’s what I thought, too."
Draco swirled the wine in his glass and stared at it. "So that’s why you were suddenly good at potions in sixth year? Because Snape was no longer your teacher?"
"Oh, hell no." Harry snorted. "I’m alright at potions now – good enough to get me through Auror training – but that’s the extent of it." At Draco’s raised brow, he said, "I’ll let you in on my secret from sixth year some other time."
Draco looked poised to argue, but relented. "I’ll hold you to that."
Harry drained the last of his wine. "So ... you said something about a torte?"
Draco smiled and finished his own wine. "I did indeed." He removed a box from the bag he’d brought. "Why don’t you cut a couple of pieces for us while I make some tea?"
They ate their cake in companionable silence and when they were done, Harry said, "That may have been the best meal I’ve ever had. Thanks."
"You’re welcome." He watched Harry as he sipped his tea. "But while I’ll agree that this was a very good meal, if this was the best you’ve ever had, I’d say that clearly you’ve missed out on some of the finer things in life."
"Apparently I have. Who knew?"
Draco frowned. "You’re a wealthy man, Harry. You do know this, right?"
Harry nodded, though even now he found that fact rather uncomfortable.
His discomfort must have shown because Draco chuckled. "You can afford to expand your horizons, try more things." Harry nodded again. "There’s a whole world of culinary experiences just waiting for you."
Harry thought about a world of other experiences that might also await him. "Maybe you’ll have to show me sometime."
Draco smiled around his cup as he sipped his tea. "Maybe I will."
Continued in Part 16
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Date: 2019-05-31 12:16 am (UTC)Ah, yes, the dreaded WiP. I recently posted the next part and should consistently post (sorry about the delay since this last one) weekly-ish until done. Four more parts to go! I promise I will not abandon it. In fact, much of the rest is already written. :)
Glad you're enjoying the story, and as luck would have it, Harry and Ron do chat in the next part.
Thanks for reading and commenting. ♥