sesheta66: (Default)
This was my entry in the [livejournal.com profile] hp_getlucky's 2019 Fest

Title: Luck o’ the Irish
Author: [livejournal.com profile] sesheta_66
Beta: [livejournal.com profile] sassy_cissa
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5K
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: At a Ministry function, someone spikes the punch with Felix Felicis, and everyone gets lucky! (submitted by [livejournal.com profile] enchanted_jae)
Summary: No punch bowl is safe when Seamus Finnegan is around. Particularly with St. Paddy’s Day just around the corner.
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.

Read here:

Luck o’ the Irish


Draco let out a sigh. Again. Harry had prodded him over the past couple of weeks, but he’d steadfastly refused to say what was wrong. Every time he’d caught Draco staring, he’d look away, like he wanted to talk but then lost his nerve. And whenever Harry asked him what was up, he acted like Harry was imagining things.

Their usual banter had dwindled to mere grunts on Draco’s part and for the life of him, Harry couldn’t figure out what was bothering him. He’d replayed their conversations but could never come up with anything that might have prompted this distance between them. And, as far as he knew, nothing had happened outside of work to cause a withdrawal into himself like he’d witnessed in Draco.

They’d worked together as Aurors for the past five years, the last two as partners, and Harry felt he knew Draco pretty well. This wasn’t one of his drama queen moments, like back at school. Truth be told, Harry couldn’t recall the last time his partner had done anything like that. In fact, he’d grown up a lot since the war and Harry considered him to be a friend.

He’d like to consider him more than that, but he’d settle for friends, especially since they were partners. Neither of them had been keen on the partnership to begin with – Harry having worked with Ron since they’d graduated the program, and Draco having had enough of Harry tracking his every move in school – but it had worked out better than even Robards had imagined it might. Apparently, they’d both scored similarly on a number of their qualifying tests, and their approaches complemented each other. Who knew?

When George had asked Ron to help him out at the shop a couple of years ago – after Verity had quit to go travel, and he and Angelina were busy planning their wedding – Ron had been granted a short-term leave and Harry had been left without a partner. He’d told Robards that he was perfectly content to work alone, but their boss had had other ideas. He’d suggested the pairing and explained his reasons to Draco and Harry. When they’d protested, he’d made it clear that his suggestion was actually an order and they’d do well to just shut up and deal with it. And what had been meant as a six-month assignment had become permanent. For Ron’s part, when he’d returned to find himself partnered with a new recruit, he’d taken it in stride, so long as Harry wasn’t too pissed off to be stuck with the git. Harry wasn’t.

So it was with frustration that Harry had watched his partner sink into a depressive state. It hadn’t yet affected his work, but Harry wondered if it were only a matter of time.

"You’re going to the party, yeah?"

Draco’s head lifted from whatever he’d been reading. "What? Oh, that. I don’t know. We already went to the official ceremony. Does a signed agreement really need an after-hours party too?"

"C’mon, it’ll be fun." Draco raised his brows. "It will be, you’ll see. Besides, you look like you could use some fun."

Draco smirked. "What’d you have in mind, partner?"

If only I could tell you, Harry mused. He brushed aside his wayward thoughts. "Oh, I don’t know. I thought maybe you might want to relax, enjoy a drink or ten, and converse with other human beings."

"I hardly think spending my private time with fellow Ministry workers, talking about whatever the Ministry gets up to these days, would be something I’d consider fun."

Harry frowned. "You spend your private time with me." It was true. They got together at least twice a month for dinner and occasionally – if Harry caught him at the right time – Draco even joined him down the pub on a Friday night.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Why, yes, I do. But you – unlike half the Ministry, if not more – do not look ahead to that moment, somewhere in the distant future, when you can crush me into nothing and leave me for dead."

Harry revised his drama queen assessment. Maybe Draco was still the same, but Harry no longer registered the negative parts of his personality. "Oh, come on. It’s not that bad."

"Oh, really?" Draco said. "Were you aware that Mosely, only just last week, offered to wipe my brain of its current personality, so that I might start fresh and give the wizarding community a break?"

"He ... what?" Draco nodded. "But he’s an Obliviator!"

Draco shrugged. "And as such, wields rather a lot of power where a mind wipe might be concerned."

"I didn’t know," Harry said. What else didn’t he know? What other horrible things had he not heard about? "I’m sorry."

"Why should you be sorry? You’re one of the few people here that has accepted me. And, I won’t forget, one that has more reason than most to hate me."

"I don’t hate you. Never have."

Draco snorted at that last comment. "Oh, come on. We both know that’s not true."

"Do we?" Harry asked. He’d considered Draco an irritant more often than not back in the day, but looking back on things, he thought hate was rather too strong a word.

"We do. Let’s not rewrite the past. We hated each other in school. Then we lived through a war. You saved my life."

"We saved each other’s lives," Harry corrected.

"Whatever." Draco waved the comment away with a sweep of his hand. "The point is that we’ve outgrown it. We don’t need to pretend it never happened or that we never hated each other. The important thing is that we don’t now. Even if you still should."

Harry perched himself on the edge of Draco’s desk and nudged him with his knee. "Come with me to this party. We can show our faces, meet up with Luna – who, by the way, also thinks you’re alright – stick our noses up at Mosely, have a few drinks courtesy of the Ministry, and head to the pub afterwards. It’ll be fun."

"Sure. Yeah. It’ll be a blast."

"I’ll hex Mosely, if you’d like."

Draco scowled then, despite his best efforts, chuckled. "My hero," he deadpanned.

"I’m your friend, and I don’t like when people are arseholes to my friends."

Draco looked surprised. "You consider me a friend?"

Harry kicked him playfully. "Don’t you consider us friends?"

Draco shrugged. "I’d like to, but I guess I never really thought you’d feel that way about me."

Harry frowned, insulted. "How can you say that after two years of being partners? We even – as you just pointed out – spend time together outside of work. Why on earth would we do that if we weren’t friends?"

Draco shrugged again. "Guess I just figured it was you doing your saving people thing."

Harry laughed. "You don’t need saving!"

Draco coughed. "You just said you’d hex Mosely on my behalf."

"Yeah, but not because you need saving. Because you’re my friend and it pisses me off when people mistreat my friends."

Draco’s lips twitched and, at length, he allowed a smile to break through. "Alright then."

"So, you’ll come to the party?"

He rolled his eyes. "There will be alcohol there, yeah?"

"Courtesy of the Ministry, yes."

Draco waved Harry away with his hand. "You go on ahead then, get to the party." Harry was about to protest, to drag Draco with him, when he added, "I’ll see you later."

Harry slapped him on the back. "Great!"

An hour in, Draco still hadn’t shown up. Harry looked around at the decorations – a big union jack beside the stars and stripes. He nearly hurled. The agreement between the countries – the entire reason for this party – was something to be proud of, yes, but it didn’t rise to the level of world peace. They’d simply formalised the practices that had been in place for years. Harry rolled his eyes as he took in the paper cups, plates, napkins and banners, all in red, white and blue in the design of the two flags. Honestly, it was overkill at best.

At least the food was good. He could have done without the pastries decorated with the flags as well, but the food itself was tasty. And Luna thought the decorations were brilliant, so there was that. Maybe Harry was just too cynical. Maybe that came from working with Draco for so long. Now that his mind had drifted once again to his partner, he decided to go find him.

Harry had excused himself from Luna’s company and was about to walk out the door when Seamus – now working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures – shoved a cup into his hand. "Drink up, Harry! Happy St. Paddy’s Day!"

Harry laughed and looked at the cup. "You know, Seamus, it’s not actually St. Patrick’s Day yet."

He waved Harry’s comment aside. "Close enough!"

Harry chuckled, swirled the liquid around and took a sniff. It was red and fruity. "And this is definitely not Guinness."

"Ah," Seamus said, lifting his own cup and staring at the red liquid forlornly. "This, sadly, is true. But ‘tis alcohol and ‘tis free!" He took a big gulp. "And that," he said, elbowing Harry in the ribs, "is the luck o’ the Irish, if you ask me. Now drink up."

Harry, always wary of Seamus giving him a drink, figured what the hell. It was already spiked punch, so what did he have to worry about? He took a decent sip, though decidedly smaller than Seamus had, under his friend’s watchful eye. He cringed slightly at the sweetness of it – give him a pint any day, thanks – but otherwise it was fine. Then he took another.

Seamus slapped him on the shoulder. "Luck o’ the Irish, Harry." His friend winked and walked away, coaxing others to get themselves some punch.

And then he felt it. That little voice in his head coming to life, nudging him. His first instinct was to go after Seamus, but the voice in his head – Felix, he was sure – told him to stand back and watch. Observe. With all his training as an Auror, this didn’t sound like such an out of the way suggestion. In fact, hadn’t he been trained to do just that? With no one in imminent danger, there was no need to jump in without first ... observing.

The first thing he caught sight of was Ron, making a beeline for Hermione. They’d split up six months earlier – much to Harry’s surprise and disappointment, but a long time coming to others who’d always thought them an odd match – and Hermione had steadfastly refused any and all attempts on Ron’s part to get back together. No amount of chocolate would soften her resolve and no number of public declarations of love would sway her. Ron had given up a little over a month ago, resigning Hermione to the status of the one that got away. Only now he walked across the room with determination and confidence – something Harry hadn’t seen him demonstrate since their break-up. Harry wasn’t sure what he’d expected – the usual dismissal from Hermione followed by Ron slinking away, tail between his legs, perhaps? What he hadn’t expected was to see Hermione, caught completely off guard, smile at something Ron said. Harry, wishing he could hear their conversation, watched intently until, a few minutes later, Hermione – strong, wilful, stubbornly obstinate Hermione – took Ron’s hand and, with a shy smile, followed him out the door, no doubt to someplace more private, if Ron had any say.

As Harry took in the room, he soon realised that Seamus hadn’t only got Ron to drink his spiked punch, but must have encouraged others before he’d approached Harry, because he noticed some strange pairings of people. He’d attended many a Ministry party before, and people – on the most part – tended to stay in their own groups and talk to the same people. Sure, people mingled, but what Harry saw now was far from the norm.

Was that Bridgette from Muggle Worthy Excuses chatting up Smith, Smythe, whatever his name was, from Magical Creatures? She’d always been so shy and reserved, but now she kept touching him. Not in any lewd way, but still ... her eyes sparkled and she laughed, throwing her head back. And what’s-his-name smiled back. Neither of them appeared inebriated, just relaxed. A moment later, she asked him something, he nodded and, with his arm around her shoulders they left the party.

Then there was Norman from the Portkey office, chatting up Suzie, Sandy – Merlin, Harry was horrible with names – from Magical Reversal. He’d never seen them together before, but they looked like they’d rather like to get to know one another much better. Before long, after brazenly flirting until it was obvious where things were headed, they too left.

And so it went. Harry counted six departing couples that did not return to the festivities before Rolf Scamander approached. "Hey, Harry."

"Hi, Rolf. How are things?"

"Oh, alright. You know. Creatures will be creatures. You?"

Harry chuckled. "Criminals will be criminals."

"So, I have a question for you, only I’m not so sure ... well ... I –"

Harry turned his full attention to Rolf. He wasn’t as awkward as his famous grandfather, but he was a bit shy. Harry smiled. "Just ask."

"It’s about Luna."

Harry really smiled then. He’d seen how Rolf had watched Luna whenever they’d been in a room together. Surprisingly, Luna – a woman with an uncanny knack to figure out what so many people were thinking – seemed oblivious to his feelings towards her. "Ah. Are you finally going to say something?"

His eyes widened comically and he jumped back from Harry ever so slightly. "You noticed?"

Harry leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "I’m an Auror. I’m trained to observe."

"Oh, well then. That’s alright, I suppose."

Chuckling, Harry said, "Doesn’t explain how everyone else knows, but there you go."

"Everyone knows?" He sounded positively horror-stricken.

Harry put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Relax. I don’t think Luna’s caught on yet."

His shoulders relaxed and he let out a breath. "Oh, good."

Harry wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. At least Luna could be counted on to break the ice and get things moving along if she knew. Felix nudged him. Harry followed Rolf’s gaze and saw Luna across the room, now standing near the punch bowl and chatting with Maggie, Mandy, whatever her name was from the secretary pool.

After weighing the advisability in his mind for a moment, Harry relented to Felix’s prod. "Why don’t you get yourself some punch?" he suggested. At Rolf’s bewildered look, he continued. "Take a good swig for courage, then fill up another cup and bring it to Luna. She loves fruity drinks."

"She does?"

Harry had no idea if Luna did or not, but Felix assured him this was the case. He nodded. "She’ll be pleased and you’ll have the opportunity to talk."

"Talk. Right. I can do that." He forced a pathetic sort of smile onto his face and Harry suddenly wasn’t so sure that he could.

"Well, if you can’t, Luna can."

Rolf perked up at that, knowing it to be true. He straightened up, shoulders back and nodded to no one in particular. "Right, then. Thanks, Harry. Wish me luck."

Harry suppressed a chuckle. "Best of luck to you, Rolf."

Felix worked like a charm. Harry watched Rolf gulp down a full cup, refill it and get a second for Luna. Then Rolf’s entire demeanour changed before Harry’s eyes, and he became relaxed and confident, like Harry only ever saw him when he was deep into his work. He watched Luna’s face light up when Rolf handed her the drink, and within minutes, what’s-her-face had moved along and the two were chatting companionably, looking, for all the world to see, rather smitten with each other.

Felix nudged Harry once more. He made his own way across to the punch bowl, catching the tail end of Rolf and Luna’s conversation as the two made a date for the next evening. Luck o’ the Irish indeed, Seamus. Harry thought they’d make a brilliant couple and he couldn’t be happier for the two of them.

He topped up his own cup and filled another. On his way out of the room, young Billings from Magical Transportation stopped him. "Hi, Auror Potter."

Harry sighed. "It’s Harry, remember?"

"Oh, right. Sorry Auror Harry." Harry rolled his eyes. The boy was rather awed by Harry.

Harry looked at the punch he was carrying and then back at Billings. "Was there something you needed?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. I just ... remember that problem I told you about? The thing I’ve been trying to work out for weeks now?"

Harry nodded. "The issue with the Floo connections to Ireland, wasn’t it? Something about the volatility when the Irish Sea was particularly rocky?"

"Yes!" He beamed, clearly excited that Harry remembered.

"Did you solve it?" Harry asked.

"I may have," he said, his face and hands animated. "It was the strangest thing. I was standing here, not an hour ago, and suddenly it came to me. Why not check the logs of unusual splinching incidents during the same times?" Harry had no idea why this would matter, but he nodded encouragingly. "So I did, just now, and you know what?"

"What?" Harry grinned at his enthusiasm.

"I was right! I don’t know what made me think about it just then, but ..."

Harry had a pretty good idea about that but said nothing. He replayed Billings’ comments and frowned slightly. "That’s great, only I’m not sure what one has to do with the other."

"Oh!" he said. "It’s just that you have to adjust all sorts of things – spells, potions, magical instruments – based on planetary alignment, moon phases, and ..."

"And weather?"

"Exactly!" He grinned widely, clearly impressed with his discovery. "I’ve left it for tonight, though."

That surprised Harry. Billings was usually such a keener. "Why’s that?"

He shrugged. "Something told me to let this settle for today. Enjoy the breakthrough moment and let my brain work out the details overnight. Then I’ll face it fresh tomorrow." He nodded as though he’d said something profound. "Yep, I think I’m on my way to sorting this out."

"Congratulations," Harry said. This would be huge for the up-and-comer, to be able to work out a problem he’d obsessed over for weeks and the department had been having for years. Felix nudged Harry again and he lifted the cups. "Well, I’m off. Catch me up on your progress next week."

"I will, Auror Potter." Harry sighed, but didn’t correct him. He had some luck to dole out himself.

Harry entered the Auror office and put the cups down on the filing cabinet by the door before slipping in further. "Ha! I knew I’d find you here," Harry said as he found Draco at his desk. "I thought you were coming to the party."

Draco smirked. "Actually, what I said was that you should go along and I would see you later. I didn’t specify where or when that would be."

"Sneaky."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hello? Slytherin here."

Harry laughed. "Fair enough."

"Why are you here, Potter? Don’t you have Ms Lovegood to entertain?"

"Actually," Harry said, now perching on the edge of Draco’s desk, "she and Newt Scamander were busy planning their date for tomorrow night when I left."

Draco blinked. "The magical creatures expert?"

"Magizoologist, I believe, yes. Just like his grandfather."

Draco snorted. "The Great Harry Potter, thrown over for a zookeeper. I can see the headlines now."

"Ha, ha. Very funny." Felix nudged Harry to say more. "I’ll have you know he’s brilliant. Besides, he and Luna have been dancing around each other for years. I think it’s about time they did something about it. I was glad to be of help." Then Draco’s words hit Harry. "And what do you mean, thrown over?"

Draco leaned back in his seat and studied Harry like he was a curious oddity. "Do you always set your dates up with other men? I can’t imagine that does much for your love life."

"Not usually, no." Harry chuckled and Felix nudged on. "But since Luna wasn’t my date – not really my type – I was more than happy to help her along in her pursuit of true love."

"How noble of you."

Harry bowed. "Why thank you, kind sir."

Draco frowned at Harry’s antics. "So why are you here?"

"Ah yes." Harry leaned towards Draco. "I thought you might want to get lucky." Harry fought the urge to say more, Felix encouraging him to just wait.

"You –" Draco blinked and Harry watched curiously as first his neck then his cheeks turned pink. Interesting. "You what?"

Harry smiled and slowly stood. "I thought." He waved his wand and a cup zoomed gracefully into it. "That you." He placed it on the desk in front of Draco. "Might want to get lucky."

Draco looked at the cup, then up at Harry, then back at the cup. The colour in his face faded slightly. He leaned over and sniffed it. "What is this?"

"That, if I’m not mistaken, is punch spiked with Felix Felicis."

Draco’s eyes widened. "Real Felix?"

"If what’s happening to me – and, by all appearances, what’s happening to most people at the party – is any indication, then yes, it’s the real thing."

"How do you know?"

Harry shrugged. "I can’t say for sure – I didn’t test it – but it feels much the same as it had in sixth year when I took it. Perhaps a little less potent, but otherwise very much the same."

"And you thought I –"

"Might want to try some, yes." He watched Draco weighing the idea over in his mind. "You’ve been pretty low lately. I thought you could use some luck." He gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "Or something."

"And you just expect me to drink this, without even knowing what it is?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure you’re the most brilliant at potions of anyone I know, and you, of all people, would easily be able to determine what precisely is in that drink."

"Did you just –?"

"Say you’re brilliant at potions? Yes. You’ve been telling me so for years." Harry looked around as though checking for witnesses. "I’m merely acknowledging what we both already know." He motioned to the cup. "Go on, then."

Draco waved his wand and silently cast detection spells, his brows furrowed in concentration. After a few short minutes, he smiled. "Felix it is."

"Oh, good. So we don’t need to take away the punch bowl." At Draco’s confused expression, he explained, "We are Aurors, you know. We probably should investigate who did this." He didn’t bother volunteering that he damn well knew who’d done it.

Draco lifted the cup again. "You said before ‘based on what’s happening with other people at the party’. What did you mean by that? Were they acting erratically? Giddy?"

"No, no signs of overdose." Harry thought about what he had seen transpire. "Like I said, it doesn’t feel as strong as I’d taken in sixth year, and even then I only took a small portion. I think it’s pretty diluted."

Draco waved his wand a couple more times. "I would tend to agree with you."

Harry nodded. "It was more like people were acting confident. Not the confidence that comes along with drink, when you think you can sing or dance or whatever. Just ... confident."

"What does it feel like?"

Harry shrugged. "Like someone inside your head is guiding you to the best path. Like he – Felix – knows the best path for you to take, and he nudges you towards it. You aren’t sure why you should do what he says, but you’re confident it’s the right thing. And eventually the reasons will become clear."

"That sounds an awful lot like blind faith." He scowled at the cup. "Like handing over control to someone else."

Harry reached over and took the cup from Draco’s hand, placing it on the desk. "It’s not like the Imperius Curse, if that’s what you’re thinking."

"It sounds like it."

"The Imperius Curse removes all external influences, limits your senses and focuses your mind on what the command is. It manipulates and twists your own mind into believing that’s the best thing in the world for you to do."

"And isn’t that what you just described?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Felix is like your mate, nudging you on, with only your best interests at heart. But you’re still aware of what’s going on around you. It doesn’t take you out of your mind or dull your senses. It just seems to reveal the best path to take. You can choose to take it or not." He recalled the difference between the two feelings. "It doesn’t want to take over and make you do something completely out of character, like the Imperius. It just puts a spotlight on one path you might take over others and gives the assurance that that way is the best for you."

"And it worked for you before?"

Harry nodded. "Felix led the way for me to get information that helped me defeat Voldemort."

"What?"

"Yep. Slughorn knew something but wouldn’t help me. Felix lit the way and I followed the path, and it turned out that Felix knew what he was doing."

"I can’t believe –"

"What?"

Draco’s face drained of colour. "That I might have won that and ... and you ... and ..."

"Relax." Harry rested his hand on Draco’s to stop it shaking. "All things happen for a reason, yeah? As it turns out, I was meant to win the Felix that day, and it – along with a whole host of other things – eventually led to the downfall of Voldemort."

"Yeah, but ..."

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand. "The past is the past. What we did then led us to who we are now, and it’s all good."

"But –"

"Are you going to drink that or what?" Harry said, urged on by a fading Felix.

"What? Um ... I don’t know."

Harry, only now realising he hadn’t yet, released Draco’s hand and made to leave. "Alright, then. I just thought you might like to try out your luck, maybe cheer yourself up. But maybe you’ll want to save it for later, for a time when you really want luck on your side."

Draco stared at the cup but made no move to drink it.

"Either way, you should join the party." He grinned. "You might enjoy it." And I might enjoy it more if you were there.

He picked up the cup, still staring at the contents, his face a mask of concentration.

"Alright then. I’ll just leave you two alone," Harry said and turned towards the door. "But if you change your mind, I’ll be at the party."

He’d made it a few steps down the corridor when he heard Draco call. "Harry, wait up!"

He stopped, turned around and watched Draco come out of his office. "Change your mind?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Okay, I’ll bite. What did you want?"

Draco frowned, biting his lip as though trying to make a difficult decision. "You said you could feel Felix working."

"Yes."

"What was it telling you to do?"

Harry could feel the nudging, faint but still there. "Right now it’s encouraging me to tell you the truth. Earlier, when it was stronger, it guided me up here to you."

"But why?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea. I suppose I’ll find out eventually. But either way, I wanted to come see you. I was a bit disappointed that you hadn’t shown up at the party, to be honest. Then Felix suggested I bring you some of the punch – I’d been thinking about how down you’ve seemed lately – and I thought that was a brilliant idea."

"You noticed that I’ve been down lately?" Harry nodded. "And here I thought I was hiding it well."

Harry smiled. "You do hide it well, but I can see through that."

Draco tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. "Why do you think that is?"

Harry shrugged again. "I suppose I’ve always watched you, noticed you." Tell him more. "Like I seem to just know when you’re in a room, even before I see you. Where you are. What your mood is." Draco’s eyes widened as Harry continued. "I learned a long time ago to see through your bravado."

"You knew I was up to something in sixth year," he said. Even all this time later, he sounded irritated.

"I did." Harry grinned, hoping to project that he was well past what had happened that year. "I’d been watching you for a long time by then," he admitted. "And I guess I never really stopped."

Draco stepped towards him. "I’ve been watching you too."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Mm hmm."

Harry took a step closer. "And what do you see?"

Draco’s eyes dropped to Harry’s lips. Harry watched as he nibbled his lower lip, no doubt weighing his response. Then he looked directly into Harry’s eyes. "Someone I think I want to kiss."

Harry grinned. "Well, do get on with it, then."

"Git."

"Guilty as ch—" His words were cut off when Draco’s mouth closed over his own. Harry’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer. He didn’t need Felix telling him to do what he’d wanted to do ever since that first day of Auror training. Earlier than that, probably, likely, but that’s when the idea had firmly established itself, had dug in and not let go. He sighed as Draco’s arms encircled him and drew their bodies together, chest to knees.

When Draco’s tongue slid between his lips, Harry could taste the punch. He smiled into the kiss, and silently thanked Felix for his luck.




Or read on AO3

sesheta66: (Highlands Sesheta)
Title: Muggles, Mischief, Music and Mayhem
Author: [livejournal.com profile] sesheta_66
Beta: [livejournal.com profile] dysonrules
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: ~5,300
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry hadn't expected Malfoy to be working on Christmas Eve with him. What happened over the course of the evening was even less expected.
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.




Muggles, Mischief, Music and Mayhem

by Sesheta


"This is all your fault, Potter!"

Harry put down his quill and glared at Malfoy. "How do you work that one out?"

"I should be at home, sipping mulled wine and wrapping presents."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, right. You probably have house-elves do the wrapping."

Malfoy stalked over to Harry's desk, folded his arms over his chest and scowled. "Be that as it may, I must supervise. And that's entirely beside the point. I should be home, not here--" He unfolded his arms and poked Harry in the chest. "--with you."

Harry swatted Malfoy's hand away. "I didn't make you work tonight."

"No, but Kingsley did. And it just figures he'd have you work too."

Harry was saved replying when a memo flew in. He spared Malfoy a sneer before grabbing it out of the air. He read it and sighed. "An alarm sounded at a shop in Reading. Let's go."

They Apparated into an alley behind the shop, then watched in amazement as two young men - late teens, by the looks of them - hoisted boxes of merchandise into a waiting van out back.

"Muggles?" Malfoy said, clearly as surprised as Harry.

Harry frowned. "Looks like."

"How the bloody hell did they get into a wizard shop?"

"We're in the Muggle part of town." Harry waved his wand about a few times and watched the threads of the spell dissipate. "No protective enchantments to hide the building from view. The shop must cater to both."

"Idiots, the lot of them."

Harry couldn't disagree, considering the current state of affairs. "So, how should we handle this?"

Malfoy pondered the question. "We can't call the Muggle police without them seizing the property to investigate."

"Right, and we can't risk them stumbling across magical items."

"Again. Idiots!"

"So, we stop them, Obliviate them, return everything to the shop, then send them on their way?"

Malfoy grinned. "I have a better idea."

When they returned to the office, Harry was still chuckling. "Who knew you had it in you?"

Malfoy smirked. "I've always had an incredible sense of humour. Just because you're too thick to appreciate it ..."

"You mean just because I'm usually the brunt of it."

Malfoy shrugged. "Semantics."

Harry shook his head, still picturing the two blokes, sitting unconscious in the vestibule of the Muggle police station, leaning against each other with stupid half-grins on their faces. They weren't likely to rouse for a few hours - plenty of time for someone to discover them there. Their van sat illegally parked out front, full of what were likely stolen goods from other shops. The keys rested on the belly of the heavier bloke.

Malfoy and Harry had returned the wizarding shop's goods, but stacked them precariously, with a note summoning the owners to the Ministry to answer to a long list of infractions, not the least of which was blatant disregard for the Statute of Secrecy.

All in all, it had been rather a pleasant resolution. Harry smiled. "I'm impressed."

Stunned silence looked good on Malfoy.

While they scribbled their reports, another note arrived. Malfoy grabbed it and rolled his eyes. "Does idiocy run rampant on holidays?" he asked.

Harry chuckled. "Always."

They arrived at the next stop to find Muggles staring open-mouthed at a magical window display in a shop front in London. London! The Muggles in question had been spelled to remain where they were, and had been prevented from speaking. They looked like a combination of gaping fish, wide-eyed children full of wonder, and frightened deer caught in a car's headlights.

Malfoy groaned next to Harry and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "Right, so what you're saying is that these Muggles happened upon this display after you'd decided - in the middle of bloody London - to enchant it for your visiting friends?"

A boy of about fifteen wrung his hands together, looking like he was about to vomit. "Yes, sir."

"And then, instead of letting them believe it was some Muggle creation, easily explained away, you decided to hold them against their will, thereby reinforcing the presence of magic, without any sort of plan."

Harry wasn't sure, but he thought the boy might have wet his pants. Certainly his eyes were welling up under Malfoy's questioning, even as he nodded in response.

"And then you compounded the problem by silencing them?" Surprisingly, despite the clear disdain in his voice, Malfoy remained calm.

"W-well, they began screaming. What was I to do?"

Malfoy closed the distance between him and the boy and leaned in. He practically growled directly into his face. "You shouldn't have done anything at all, you complete, utter --"

Harry rested a hand on Malfoy's shoulder and interjected. "How old are you, son?"

"S-seventeen?"

"Try again," Malfoy barked.

The boy hung his head and mumbled, "Fifteen."

"Typical."

Harry held back a chuckle as he remembered some of the antics the two of them had pulled at fifteen. "Let me sum this up. You are underage. You used magic in a public place, in the presence of Muggles. You then used more magic in a frankly sorry attempt to cover up what you'd done. Your friends either scampered away or you chose to take all the blame for yourself. You then realised that you had no way out, and contacted the Ministry. Is that about right?"

He nodded, looking somewhat relieved to face Harry.

Malfoy added, "So we're just supposed to clear up this whole mess for you?"

"Um … well … I --"

Harry turned to the Muggles, cast a quick Obliviate and sent them on their way. When he turned back to the boy, Malfoy was lecturing him on the use of magic outside of school. That was rich.

Harry ran a hand through his fringe, and the boy's eyes went wide. "Are you H-Harry Potter?" Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"I am Auror Potter," Harry replied. "And this is Auror Malfoy."

The boy's fear went from a five or six to a forty in a heartbeat. "D- Draco Malfoy?" he said.

"Auror Malfoy," he replied. "Children do not use my first name. Is that clear?"

The boy nodded, and distinctly muttered, "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit."

"Oh shit is right, young man," Malfoy said. Harry thought he caught a hint of amusement in his voice.

Harry took pity on the boy. "We'll have to report this incident, you realise." The boy nodded, once more close to tears. "But we could, perhaps, take some time to file the paperwork."

Malfoy spun his head so fast in Harry's direction, he might have hurt himself. Harry turned enough that the boy wouldn't see, and winked at his fellow Auror. Malfoy's cool demeanour faltered briefly before he regained his composure. "Yes," he said, his voice softening ever so slightly as he turned back to the boy. "It's Christmas after all. Busy time, short-staffed, paperwork can get buried."

The boy's jaw dropped. This time, Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

"But don't expect anyone to clean up your messes in the future," Malfoy added. "My partner might not be the one responding next time."

The boy shook his head frantically. "Yes, sir. I understand, sir. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Malfoy added.

They took down the boy's details, advising him that he'd be receiving notice from the Ministry soon, and that he'd best prepare his parents ahead of time. Harry suggested that the paperwork would take at least a few days, and Malfoy agreed, giving the boy all of Christmas to relax before having to deal with the consequences of his actions.

They were about to leave, the boy visibly calmer now that the worst was over, when he said, "You know, you two are the perfect good cop/bad cop team." He grinned. "I mean, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy? It couldn't get any better than that, could it?" Then he turned and walked towards the nearest public Floo connection. A faint voice wafted back to them, just before he rounded the corner, that sounded suspiciously like, "Wait 'til I tell my friends who showed up."

After a couple of moments of silence, Harry turned to Malfoy, narrowing his eyes as he surveyed his current partner. "The perfect team, hmm?"

Malfoy, still staring after the boy, though he'd long disappeared from sight, jumped at Harry's words. Shaking off whatever he'd been thinking, he considered Harry briefly before rolling his eyes. "You wish, Potter." The twitch of his lips, however, belied his words. He brushed something imaginary from his robes. "See you back at the office," he said, and disappeared with a crack.

The next few hours passed with only a few calls, giving them plenty of time to finish the evening's paperwork, plus catch up on some outstanding files. Though they hadn't faced anything life threatening, each of them had been quick to deflect spells directed at the other, and they'd responded as one unit quite naturally, without effort. Harry was surprised to find that they worked well together, better perhaps than he'd worked with any other partner he'd had since becoming an Auror.

"I'm going to pick up some takeaway. Anything strike your fancy?" Malfoy asked.

Harry looked up from his current scribblings and tried not to react. Malfoy had changed from his Auror robes into a decidedly Muggle outfit: charcoal trousers and a black knit sweater that subtly showed off his physique. Harry hadn't thought of it before, but Malfoy was fit - all young Aurors were, of course, but Malfoy ... well, Harry hadn't realised just how fit his old school rival was. His mouth watered as his brain tried to work out what Malfoy had said.

"Like what you see?" Malfoy asked.

Fuck, yes. Harry shook off that thought. "Sorry? What did you say?"

Malfoy chuckled, then stepped forward, encroaching on Harry's personal space, and leaned in. "Do. You. Like. What. You. See?" he whispered into Harry's ear, his soft hair tickling Harry's neck. Harry shuddered involuntarily.

Going for nonchalance, but convinced he failed miserably, Harry said, "It's just ... I don't think I've ever seen you in Muggle clothes before."

Malfoy eyed Harry warily, not fooled at all. "I generally don't make a habit of it at work," he said. "But I fancied some takeaway from a Muggle place round the corner, and didn't think it would do to wear an Auror uniform."

"Ah. Yes. Well that makes sense." He caught the bemusement in Malfoy's eyes and added, "The look suits you."

Malfoy smiled. It struck Harry that he'd not seen Malfoy do that much over the years, certainly not in Harry's company, unless he was laughing at Harry's expense. Yet he'd smiled or laughed repeatedly tonight. Come to think of it, so had Harry. It felt good, almost natural.

"So, do you fancy anything in particular?"

You, his mind supplied. "Er ..."

"Standard fare," Malfoy said. "I felt like some fish and chips." Harry gaped. "What? I am English after all."

"Yes, but ..." Harry never imagined Malfoy eating anything ordinary unless it was part of the standard menu at Hogwarts. Certainly not willingly. "Never mind. Fish and chips sounds brilliant." His stomach made its agreement known, and he laughed. "I didn't realise how hungry I was. Thanks."

Malfoy walked out the door, leaving Harry to wonder just what had turned his world upside down in the span of one shift.

When Malfoy returned and Harry tried to pay him for his meal, Malfoy said, "Catch me next time."

Harry nodded, finding he was quite looking forward to the next time they had supper together.

The next call, from Birmingham, came just as they'd finished their meal. They arrived to find an agitated elderly witch wringing her hands. "At last, you're here!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and Harry gritted his teeth. They'd only stopped to wash up before responding, and it had taken all of two minutes to arrive after receiving the call.

"What's the problem?" Harry asked.

"Surely you can hear that dreadful noise!" she said. "I think someone's being killed."

Harry, used to tuning out background noises when Apparating, focused his attention. Sure enough, a wailing sound rolled over them. In truth, it sounded more like an animal being tortured than a human being harmed. He glanced at Malfoy who was frowning in concentration.

"You say it's coming from your neighbour's house?" Malfoy asked. "Did you confirm that before calling us?"

She crossed her arms over her ample bosom and glared at Malfoy. "I'm not in the habit of waltzing into dangerous situations," she said. "That's what you're paid to do, isn't it?"

Harry shot Malfoy a sidelong glance, his lip twitching. "Yes, ma'am, that's correct. We certainly wouldn't expect you to risk your own safety. In fact, we discourage that. We only wanted to ascertain whether or not you'd approached the house, what you might have seen, and if you had visual confirmation of a crime being committed."

She looked mildly mollified. "Well I did approach the property, but as soon as I heard a screech - most definitely from inside the house - I high-tailed it back home and contacted your office."

Malfoy rolled his eyes again. She didn't notice, her eyes firmly on Harry. "You did the right thing," he assured her. She smiled. Malfoy looked as though he might throw up. "My partner and I will investigate the situation."

They left the woman safely ensconced in her own home and crossed to the adjacent property. Another wail sounded, this time louder and longer than the last, and they picked up their pace. "I'll go round back," Malfoy said. You take the front."

Harry nodded. "Signal when you're in position."

Malfoy flashed him a smile and disappeared around the side of the house. Harry's stomach flipped at the playful sparkle in Malfoy's eyes. He shook his head, discarding the wayward thought, and peeked in through the gap in the drapes hanging in what he presumed was the front room window. His vision was obscured by a large Christmas tree, but he did see movement inside.

The wailing picked up again, evoking visions of Voldemort's Muggle games that Harry had been privy to during the war. He suppressed a shudder. He moved into position and waited for Malfoy's signal. When the coin heated up and reverberated in his pocket, Harry knocked. "Aurors. Open the door." Nothing. He knocked again. No answer. Not surprising with the noise coming from the house.

He sent back a signal to Malfoy, counted to three, then charged into the house.

Several things happened at once. Harry waved his wand, Malfoy yelled "Aurors!" and the lone occupant of the house, a seventy-something witch decked out in a garish red jumper with a reindeer plastered across the front of it, screamed. Harry and Malfoy shared a look of confusion before Harry had the sense to try to calm the woman down.

"Ma'am, is everything okay?" he asked.

She ran her eyes over their Auror uniforms before she straightened her shoulders, then scowled first at Harry, then at Malfoy. "Why are you in my house? Who gave you permission to come in here?"

Honestly. They were trying to save her life! "We knocked," Malfoy explained, quite reasonably he thought.

She looked sceptical. Potter ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck. This drew her gaze away from Malfoy and her expression softened. "Are you … Harry Potter?"

Malfoy huffed and Harry nodded. "We had a complaint about noise coming from the house. One of your neighbours thought you might be in trouble."

A blotchy wave of pink moved from her neck slowly up her face. She blinked and looked out her window. "I was singing carols," she said.

Malfoy snorted, covering the noise lamely with a cough. Harry refused to look at him, for fear he'd collapse in laughter. He did, however, catch Malfoy's shuffling feet out of the corner of his eye.

"I blame Muggles," Malfoy said once they'd returned to the office.

"Of course you do," said Harry, still too amused by their latest call for Malfoy's comment to bother him.

"Think about it," he explained. "It's all the fault of those ridiculous reality singing shows," Malfoy said "I mean what else would possess her to put a Sonorus charm on herself when singing alone in her house?"

"You have a point there."

"Don't sound so surprised."

The next half hour was spent writing their reports. Harry was convinced that his future death in the line of duty would consist of being buried under stacks of parchment

"Oh, for the love of --"

Harry looked up to see Malfoy reading a note that had fluttered in without him noticing. "What is it this time?"

"Apparently the Misuse office has been going non-stop all night, didn't staff up for it, and they're calling us in to respond to the latest."

"Well," Harry said, standing up and grabbing his cloak, "we might as well get going then."

"But our shift is almost over," Malfoy whined. "I just want to go home."

Harry snorted and put an arm around Malfoy's shoulders. "There, there, Malfoy. I'm sure we'll fend off the big bad Christmas toys gone awry in no time, and have you home to Mummy within the hour."

Malfoy shot Harry a curious look that he couldn't quite decipher, before shaking himself free. "Fuck off, Potter. We should be going home in ten minutes, not an hour."

Harry shrugged, not in any rush to go home to his empty house. Loathe though he was to admit it, his evening with Malfoy had been ... fun. His temporary partner had proven himself not only witty and enjoyable to be around - much to Harry's astonishment - but also someone Harry wouldn't hesitate to join in battle, knowing he could count on the other man to have his back. And wasn't that saying something? And, Harry could no longer deny to himself, Malfoy was most definitely not hard on the eyes.

Harry smiled at Malfoy. "Just think of the overtime."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You are aware that I'm filthy rich, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Then why on earth would I care about overtime?"

Harry pulled on his cloak, wondering why Malfoy worked at all. "You seem to like working here," he said. "And you're very good at your job."

Malfoy furrowed his brows, then said, in a tone Harry could only describe as sultry, "I'm very good at everything I do, Potter."

Harry's pants tightened at those words, and he fought to maintain his composure. What was it that he'd been saying? Oh, yes. He cleared his throat and continued. "Right. Well. It seems to me someone such as yourself - a man who puts forth his best efforts at his job, despite not needing said job - takes a certain amount of pride in what he does. By further demonstrating his commitment to the department by, say, working overtime, he presents himself as even more worthy of acceptance and appreciation. Someone who, perhaps, fancies himself moving up the chain of command, could only benefit from such actions."

"Shocking," Malfoy said.

Harry frowned. "What?"

"I would never have pegged you as quite so astute."

Harry rolled his eyes and made his way to the door. He call back, "Let's get on with it, then," he said. "This night has clearly been shocking to us both."

They arrived at the address in question to find mayhem and chaos. Toys shot across the floor, chocolates and biscuits flew through the air, and ornaments hopped from branch to branch on the tree, terrorising the angel atop.

"This isn't misuse of magic," Malfoy said.

Harry grinned. "Nope. This is wild magic, if ever I've seen it."

They approached the young woman who seemed to be in charge - or rather, not in charge - of the house. "What seems to be the problem?" Harry asked. He heard Malfoy cough in the background.

"I don't know!" the woman said. "I'm only here minding the children - I'm Mary, by the way - while my cousin and her husband are out."

"When did all this start, Mary?" Harry was pretty sure he knew the answer, but wanted to hear from the woman directly.

"When I put the little ones to bed."

Malfoy laughed. "Might we presume that they didn't want to go to bed?"

"That's right," she said. "But I told them they had to."

"And they went?"

"Samantha did, but Jerold put up a good fight."

"Perhaps we could see Jerold?" Malfoy suggested.

"Of course." She led the way upstairs, and to the little boy's room. Jerold, feigning sleep, lay curled up in his bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Jerold, these men would like to talk to you."

The boy didn't move, but his breathing stilled. Malfoy chuckled. "Jerold, we know you aren't asleep, and you are not in any trouble. We just want to speak with you for a few minutes."

The boy blinked his eyes open and pulled himself into a sitting position, then rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. When his eyes seemed to focus, Malfoy motioned to the edge of the bed, and the boy nodded. Harry noticed the noise from downstairs lessen.

"I am Auror Malfoy, and this is Auror Potter. We've come to see what's the matter here tonight." The boys eyes widened and he clutched a stuffed crup. Malfoy quickly added, "You're not in any trouble, Jerold. But there are some strange things happening downstairs." The boy held tightly to his crup. "But you know that, don't you?"

The boy began to shake his head, looked at Malfoy, then nodded instead.

"You know, when I used to get upset as a boy - if my parents made me do something I didn't like, or they went out and left me with a sitter when I thought they ought to be home with me - strange things happened at my house too."

"They did?" The little boy's voice was full of wonder.

Malfoy nodded. "Indeed. And do you know why?" Jerold shook his head. "Because you are a wizard, and inside you is all sorts of magic, desperate to get out."

"My dad's a wizard."

Malfoy smiled. "We are wizards too. And I suspect Auror Potter may have had a thing or two act up when he was a boy too."

Harry nodded. "I did."

"But we have to be careful when that happens," Malfoy said. "Because when our magic is out of control, people can get hurt."

"I don't want to hurt anybody."

"I'm sure you don't," Harry said. "So we are going to help you to stop your magic from escaping. Would that be okay?"

He nodded. "I don't want to hurt anybody."

"Very good, then. What upset you?"

"My mum always tucks me in at night, but she isn't here." The noise from downstairs picked up again.

"You know she's coming home, right?" Malfoy said. The boy nodded. "And did she give you a hug before she left?"

"A great big one!" he said. The noise dimmed once more.

"Well, I should think that would hold a big boy like yourself for quite a while."

He looked sceptically at Malfoy, then nodded hesitantly.

"And you know that Father Christmas will be visiting tonight," Malfoy said.

"Uh huh."

"And you know that he won't come if you're not asleep, right?"

"He won't?"

"Nope. It's in the rule book."

Jerold's lower lip quivered. "But I want him to come."

Harry had an idea, and pulled the sitter aside while Malfoy continued to talk to the boy. "Do you think we could manage a quick Floo call?"

Mary wrung her hands together. "I didn't want to disturb them. It's the first time I've sat for them."

Harry considered the boy and his obvious closeness with his mother. "I don't think she'd mind at all."

"Okay."

"Jerold," Mary said, "would you like to come to the living room for a moment?" He nodded. "You'll have to go straight to bed, though, afterward."

He pulled himself out of bed, still clutching the crup. He looked up at Malfoy and reached out a hand, which Malfoy took. They walked together down the stairs and stopped at the Floo. Everything had stopped moving round the room.

"Have you ever seen your parents using the Floo before?" Malfoy asked. Jerold nodded. "Good. We'll see if we can't get your mum on the line - only for a minute - to say a quick goodnight to you. Then you'll have to head back to bed, okay?"

His grin reached his eyes and he clutched Malfoy's hand. Malfoy extracted himself. "How about we don't tell your mum about our visit just yet?" he suggested. "You can tell your parents all about it over breakfast instead. It'll make a great story, don't you think?"

Jerold agreed. Malfoy and Harry stepped back out of sight while the boy spoke to his mother.

"You were great with him," Harry said.

"Don't sound so surprised, Potter."

Harry shook his head. "You are full of surprises this evening," he said.

"All good, I presume?"

Harry smiled. "All good."

When they heard the Floo close, they made to return to the living room but found themselves trapped. They both grabbed their wands, but no amount of waving them freed them from whatever trap they'd inadvertently fallen into.

"Thank you both so much," Mary said as she and Jerold approached.

"We seem to be in a bit of a predicament here," Harry said.

Mary giggled and pointed up to the door frame. Mistletoe. "You must have been standing there for more than a minute," she explained. "Once that happens, you're stuck there until you kiss."

Jerold tugged on her trousers and looked up at her. "But I thought that only happened if --"

"Never mind that, you. It's time for bed."

"Happy Christmas," he said and he gave Malfoy a big hug. Harry tried to escape while the boy was under the enchanted plant, but to no avail.

"Happy Christmas, Jerold," Malfoy said as he hugged the boy back.

Jerold held out a hand to Harry, which he took. "Happy Christmas, Jerold."

"Happy Christmas." Jerold allowed Mary to pull him away, but when they were halfway up the stairs, Harry distinctly heard him say, "But Mum says that both people must really want to kiss for the mistletoe to trap them."

Harry didn't have time to process the boy's words before Malfoy stepped towards him. "He's right, you know. That's how enchanted mistletoe works."

"It is?"

"Oh, yes." Malfoy stepped even closer, staring at Harry's lips and running his tongue along his own. "So, Potter, are we going to be stuck here all night or are you going to kiss me?"

Harry would look up the details of enchanted mistletoe later. For now, he brought his lips to Malfoy's and did what he'd been wanting to do for hours.

Almost instantly he felt the confines of the trap recede, but neither of them pulled away. Instead, they closed the distance between their bodies, wrapped their arms around each other and deepened the kiss. Warmth spread through Harry as their tongues met. A distant voice in the recesses of his mind screamed I'm kissing Draco Malfoy, but then a low moan from Malfoy reverberated through Harry's chest and he stopped thinking altogether. His body began to respond when a distant cough reminded him of where he was.

They pulled apart slowly, catching each other's eyes before turning to Mary and walking beyond the doorway, out of the mistletoe's reach.

"Well, I see you worked that out." Her cheeks looked a little flushed and she cleared her throat. "Thank you for everything."

"Our pleasure," Harry said. In more ways than one.

"Happy Christmas," Malfoy said.

They returned to the office, said nothing of their kiss, and quickly wrote up their final report of the evening, leaving a few details out. The next shift had arrived and they were free to go.

"You know, Potter," Malfoy said as he pulled a scarf on, "I'm surprised Kingsley made you work tonight."

Harry lifted his cloak over his shoulders and began buttoning it. "He didn't."

"What do you mean, he didn't?"

"I mean I volunteered to work tonight."

Harry tried not to stare at Malfoy's fingers as he pulled on a pair of gloves. "Whatever would possess you to do that on Christmas Eve?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing else to do, really."

"How do you work that out?" Malfoy said. "What about the Weasleys? I thought you always spent your hols with them."

Harry scratched the back of his neck. He didn't want to get into it, but also didn't want to ruin what ground they'd gained this evening. And for some reason, he felt oddly comfortable talking to Malfoy, however strange his rational mind knew that was. "Gin and I broke up a few months back, and ... well ... I didn't fancy spending the night with her."

"Taking it badly, then?" Malfoy almost sounded hopeful. "Is she being a shrew about things?

Harry laughed. "No, no. She's fine. Well ... she will be, at any rate. She's not giving me grief. But I still feel terribly guilty, and it's enough that I'll have to see that sad look in her eyes all day tomorrow. I just couldn't take it tonight as well."

"Not to mention sleeping under the same roof. That would be awkward."

"Exactly." Harry inwardly appreciated that Malfoy hadn't made some comment about the size of the Burrow. He didn't bother mentioning that Ron hadn't had a lot of time to get used to his situation yet either. They hadn't shared a room together since … well.

"So this isn't a temporary break, then? You don't figure you'll get back with her?"

"Not bloody likely."

"Oh, really? Because the papers are pretty sure you're about to marry. And I'd wager she is too."

Harry remembered the conversation and Ginny's face when he'd called it quits, told her that he preferred men. He shook his head. "No, Gin gets it. But the papers don't have a clue."

"Go on, then," Malfoy said. "Enlighten me."

Harry gazed at Malfoy's tongue running across his lower lip, then he looked at the other Aurors at their desks and shook his head. He wasn't quite ready for a public outing just yet. "Not here."

"You don't have plans tonight," he said. "Come back to the Manor for a night cap and you can tell me all about it."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I don't think so."

Malfoy frowned. "Why not?"

"You're not serious," Harry said. When he was met with a look of mingled confusion and something else he couldn't discern, he added, "You do recall the last time I was there, yeah?"

Malfoy's cheeks went pink and he looked away. "Oh, right." He pulled on his outer cloak and walked out the door. "See you next week then."

Harry followed him down the hall, struggling to keep up. When they approached the Floos, he reached for Malfoy's arm and waited until they were facing each other. "I don't have any mulled wine," he said. "But I do have eggnog and some Ogden's. Feel like joining me?"

Malfoy smiled. "I'd like that," he said. Then he narrowed his eyes. "You don't happen to have enchanted mistletoe hanging about?" he asked.

Harry laughed. "No, I don't." He leaned in and whispered, "But I could arrange for some."

~ FIN ~

sesheta66: (Highlands Sesheta)
Author: [livejournal.com profile] sesheta_66
Betas: [livejournal.com profile] dysonrules, [livejournal.com profile] rickey_a, and [livejournal.com profile] marguerite_26
Title: Avebury Magic
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: PG
Summary: Could the wizarding pumpkin fest really be as good as Malfoy says? With a little help from Luna, Harry will find out that and more. Based on the art, At the Pumpkin Festival by [livejournal.com profile] dirty_darella.
Word Count: ~4,700
Disclaimer: Based on this fabulous art by [livejournal.com profile] dirty_darella. All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.

Avebury Magic )

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