Second Chance (2025 Christmas Story) - Chapter 12

[sesheta66]

Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twelve
Author: sesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: slythindor100’s early bird prompt B – Plate of Chocolate-dipped Cookies (picture under the cut) and dracoharry100’s prompt 17: Yule Log
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.5K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the slythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the dracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

OR on AO3





Second Chance – Chapter 12

Draco arrived back at work somewhat disoriented, not entirely sure why he'd agreed to work for the Ministry. The very place he'd adamantly refused to work for his entire career. Oh, who was he kidding? He'd agreed because Potter had asked. With no strings – had even given him an out after he'd signed the damn contract. Potter had been respectful and … nice.

It was something Draco had wanted the whole time they'd been in school together – ever since the refused hand in first year. Even after the war, he hadn't had that. Yes, they'd had their brief time together, but what had that been anyway? Six weeks in a bubble, hidden away from the rest of the world. They'd had awkward, then good, then great sex. But like Potter had said, they hadn't really talked. Yes, they'd grown close – how could they not have? – but they hadn't been friends. Hadn't been much more than two exhausted and horny teenagers getting off on the thrill of the moment. Or at least that's what Draco had told himself at the time.

Looking back on it over the years, Draco had chalked it up to two people who'd been through a lot of shit, and had wanted to forget about it. Immerse themselves in something new, something that had seemed inevitable at the time. Something forbidden. Slytherin and Gryffindor. Malfoy and Potter. Death Eater and Chosen One.

But neither of them had told anyone. It had been their own little secret. Okay, big secret. And somehow, for that six weeks, no one had found out. But then, as secrets tend to do, the reality of keeping something this big to yourself had worn on them. Potter had Auror training and Draco had to go away to finish his schooling. Could they have made it work, a long-distance relationship? They were wizards, for fuck's sake. Of course they could have. But they'd both realised that what they had wasn't real, wasn't lasting, wasn't forever. Couldn't be. The public and the people closest to them would have seen to that. They'd resigned themselves to a future of obligations. Potter had to save the fucking world, as many times as they asked him to, and Draco had to do what all good purebloods did, and carry on the family line.

They'd had their time, fleeting as it had been, and then it was back to reality. And that had been that. They'd moved on, and had never spoken of it since. Had hardly spoken to each other at all for over twenty years. Until today. Knowing he was going to see Potter had brought back the memories, but last night had been nothing compared to being in the man's office today. And a man he was. Fucking hell, Potter had filled out well. Thank Merlin he hadn't been in uniform – that might have done Draco in entirely.

And then he'd touched Draco – nothing overt, just a hand on his arm when he'd seen Draco's discomfort. Of course. Saint Potter, always looking out for others. But he hadn't felt comforted at Potter's touch. No, it had sent a spark of desire through him that he hadn't felt for years. Since …

He'd looked at Potter then, looked for a sign that he'd felt something too, but he'd given nothing away. Famous for his inability to hide his feelings, Draco had to conclude that Potter must not have felt anything. And wasn't that just a punch in the gut?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What was he thinking, agreeing to work with the man? He'd managed all these years without him, only sparing him an occasional thought. And now, in less than a day, he'd turned Draco's world upside down.

He drew in a few deep, calming breaths. He was being overly dramatic. It was just a physical reaction. Something to be expected from the touch of someone with whom you'd been intimate. Nothing more. A few more deep breaths. Better. Right. He opened the door and walked inside.

Bridgette met him halfway to his office. "Good afternoon. How did it go at the Ministry? Did you let Mr Potter down gracefully?"

"Hello, Bridgette. It went well. And no I did not." At her look of concern, he added, "Relax. I didn't do anything stupid. Well, no, that's not right. I have actually done something stupid. Profoundly stupid. I agreed to work with them on this case."

"You what?"

He walked past her towards his office, calling back as he went. "I've signed a contract, which I'll leave at your desk. I have to go back tomorrow morning, so have Nigel come see me at three o'clock so we can work out how to proceed."

"Will do." As Draco opened his office door, Bridgette said, "Oh, and Ms Parkinson is waiting in your office."

And so she was. Most unexpected. And horrifically, inconvenient timing. He plastered on a smile. "Pansy, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Oh. My. God! Did I just hear that correctly? You've agreed to work at the Ministry?"

How the bloody hell did she figure that out from what she'd overheard? Draco sighed, knowing there was no point lying to the wench. "Yes, I have."

"What did Potter offer you to get you to do that?"

Again, how the hell did she know? Ignoring her question, he took the contract out of his bag and sent it out to Bridgette's desk. He then made a show of removing his coat, hanging it up and making a pot of tea. Leaving it to steep, he returned to his desk to face a grinning Pansy.

"What?"

"I gave you time to come up with a plausible reason to have taken the job, so out with it. Bridgette told me you'd gone to the Ministry, to which I obviously laughed, insisting you'd never step foot inside that building again. To which she sighed and said that Harry Potter – the Harry Potter – had asked you as a personal favour." She flipped her hair to emphasise the point. "And to my utter horror, she insisted that she was not making that up. Moreover, she said that you'd actually gone. To see Potter." She opened her mouth in feigned shock, doing a piss poor job of hiding her amusement. Bitch. "And then you show up and announce that you've taken the job!"

"I didn't announce anything. I merely told Bridgette and you overheard."

She dismissed his rebuttal with a wave of her hand. "Semantics."

"Was there a reason you showed up here, unannounced? If so, could you get to it, please? I do have work to be getting on with."

She grinned and pointed to a box on Draco's desk. "I come bearing gifts. Freshly baked biscuits!"

Draco snorted. "You baked me biscuits?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I didn't bake them. If you can believe it, I went to a Muggle bakery in London! The shop came highly recommended."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Which one?"

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "I've already forgotten the name of the place. And okay, I didn't actually go there myself. I mean, really. A Muggle shop? Me? Don't be daft. Anyway, I did pay for them. I just asked Gretchen to pop over and pick up a variety. I heard some customers rave about the place – best Yule logs and pastries in London – and you know my sweet tooth. I just had to try them. So I had her get the details from them and go buy a log cake and a box of biscuits. And I thought, why not get my friend – the one who so graciously agreed to rush an extra order of candles for me – a box as well? And since I know you just love a good chocolate-dipped, voila! Here you go."


He looked inside and moaned. Yes, that's just what he needed. "You're a doll."

She grinned and batted her eyelashes. "Now, about Potter."

He groaned and ran his hand over his face. "Right, since you clearly won't let this go, let me pour myself a cup of tea first. Care for one?"

She nodded. "Please."

Once he'd given Pansy her tea and settled himself in with a biscuit, he braced himself.

"So is Potter as delicious in person these days as he is on camera?"

Draco choked on the biscuit. After a fit of coughing, then a splash of tea to wash the crumbs down, he finally recovered. "What?"

"Oh, come on, Draco. You can't tell me you didn't notice. Was he in uniform?" Her eyes glazed over.

His surreal day had just become more so. He wondered for a moment if he might not have accidentally absorbed some of the hallucinogenic drug from a surface in the lab, and was now living out a drug-induced alternative reality. "Might I remind you this was the man you wanted to hand over to the Dark Lord. And now you're calling him delicious?"

"Oh, darling, that scrawny boy I suggested we hand over – merely to save everyone's life of course – doesn't bare any resemblance to the grown man that is now the head of the MLE."

"His eyes are the same." The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

The Cheshire cat had nothing on Pansy's grin. "Oh, do tell."

"Oh, do shut up."

She giggled. "Oh, that's you putting me in my place, isn't it?" He glared at her. "So what did Potter give you that made you cave?"

"Nothing." She threw him her pull the other one stare. "I mean nothing beyond a regular contract. Standard conditions, premium pay, blah blah blah."

"So you're actually working for Potter? Oh, my god, I can't wait to tell Blaise."

"I'm not working for Potter, I'm working with him."

"How cosy."

"Oh, don't go reading anything into this. I'm working independently, mainly with the laboratory. I'll consult with the Auror that's working on the case."

"Not Weasley?"

"Fuck no. He's Head Auror. Someone else is on the case."

"So you won't have to deal with him?"

"Not according to Potter. I think he knew it would be a no-go if I had to deal with the weasel."

Pansy seemed satisfied with that. "So where does Potter fit into this?"

"Signs the cheques. Makes decisions."

"So he's your boss." She was getting entirely too much enjoyment out of this.

"No. He is a client. He has hired me to do a job and will pay me well for it. That's all."

She chuckled. "Oh, honey, you keep telling yourself that."

He put his head in his hands and began to rub around his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on. "I know I'm going to regret asking you this, but what the fuck are you going on about?"

"You. Potter. Nothing between the two of you was ever cut and dry. There was always something simmering below the surface."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You obsessed about him all through school. The two of you watched each other like … well, I thought at the time like enemies, or like predator and prey, but thinking back, I'm not so sure. Stalked each other. Tried to one-up each other every chance you got. I can't tell you how many times the rest of us rolled our eyes when you started on about Potter this and Potter that. God, it was exhausting. And Millicent overheard Weasley telling Potter one time to 'shut up about Malfoy already' so apparently it wasn't just you. And the looks you threw at each other? Like I said, always something simmering beneath the surface. It was a bit unsettling, being your girlfriend and all, for you to pay more attention to him than me."

He took a moment to process all that. He hadn't ever considered … they hadn't … she couldn't be serious. He hadn't paid more attention to Potter than Pansy in school. That was ridiculous. What was she on about? He narrowed his eyes. "Is that why you wanted to hand him over? Because you were jealous?"

"No, I really did want to just have the whole tedious war over and done with, and that seemed the most expeditious path." She took a sip of her tea. "But I wouldn't have been devastated to have your attention on me for a change. Honestly, I don't think I would have been surprised to find the two of you going at it in some broom cupboard at Hogwarts. Shocked, yes. Obviously." She took another sip. "But I don't think I'd have been surprised."

Draco opened his mouth to reply, closed it again. Tried again. How was it that she'd never said a word of this to him before? He let out an exasperated sigh. "I–" What the hell was she talking about anyway? They hated each other in school. "I–"

Smirking, she asked, "Cat got your tongue?" He felt his cheeks redden. She grinned. "Did I put a nice little picture in your mind for when you go see your boss tomorrow morning?"

She had indeed, though she had no idea just how clear a picture it was. "I won't dignify that with a response."

"I bet he'd be wild–"

"Stop! Just … stop. Enough."

She laughed. "Oh, you're no fun. It's only that you told me years ago, should you ever even consider going to work for the Ministry, that I was to remind you why you shouldn't."

Damn it. She was right. He had said that. "And this is the best you could come up with?"

She shrugged. "Seemed like my only option. It's not like I could tell you that you can't trust Potter. Back in the day, maybe not. But he did save your life, multiple times. And testified for you and Narcissa. He's called the Golden Boy for a reason. Hard to turn down a personal request from him. And you said you'll be paid well and you won't be working with Weasley. Seems like any potential problems have been resolved in advance. The only thing left was to remind you of how obsessed you'd been with him in school."

"I was not obsessed with him in school."

She snorted. "Oh, come now. Let's not rewrite history, Draco."

He scrutinised her, looking for any sign she was lying. Then again, she was a Slytherin through and through. She often couldn't lie to him – he knew her too well – but if she were motivated enough, she might be able to pull it off. He saw no tell.

He mumbled, "I hated him. And he hated me."

She tapped his hand like one does when comforting someone. "You keep telling yourself that." She shook her head and got up. "Thanks for the tea. And be careful."

"Careful of what?"

"Of Potter."

What the hell did he have to be afraid of? "You said it yourself, he's the Golden Boy. I can trust him."

"Yes, darling." She kissed his cheeks and turned to go. "But can you trust yourself?"

Comments

[enchanted-jae.livejournal.com]

Poor Draco, getting blindsided from every side it seems.

[sesheta-66.livejournal.com]

:D He is indeed. *pats him on the head*

[piratesmile331.livejournal.com]

No, no he cannot trust himself. 😏

[sesheta-66.livejournal.com]

Pansy called it, for sure ;)