PSL | Thread One Who | Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy When | Early December, Mid Afternoon Where | Ministry of Magic, Level Two What | Consultation ... of sorts. Rating | Low-ish.
To put it bluntly, he was exhausted and he perhaps teetering on the edge of admitting that he’d taken too much on in his desire to escape the current tension that was brewing between himself and the Weasley’s .... alright, that wasn’t entirely fair. The tension was brewing between Ginny and himself and the rest of the lot had already sought shelter from the oncoming storm. He was tempted to find a hole to crawl into himself, but since that wasn’t exactly an option he’d decided to bury himself in work. Maybe she’d just forget about him and move on to the next unsuspecting soul.
Maybe that was bit harsh. It really wasn’t her fault their relationship had broken down. He was pretty sure that was all on him. Still, he knew she wanted to try again and, like a coward, he’d been avoiding that conversation for weeks, stretching out their new and not at all unfamiliar “break” they were currently on. Frankly, they’d done this so many times that it’d become a habit and he wasn’t all that interested in continuing to do so. He didn’t really see a point in it. Of course, telling the impatient and temperamental redhead that was also not something on his list of things to do that day. Nor was it on his list of things to do for the rest of the week.
Running a hand through his already disheveled hair, he made an irritated noise as he glanced over the file in his hand. He was a mess. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his jacket, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his tie had been tugged on so much that it just hung loosely around his neck, and even as he continued to walk toward his destination his glasses were slowly slipping down his nose as he read. The worst part of it all, arguably, was the only reaction it got was an amused smile from one of the secretaries as he mumbled a hello on his way past. Everyone was well aware that he was a mess. It was his natural state.
Heading toward the conference room, his body finding its way without much thought, he flipped to the next page and scanned the information as well. He hated working narcotics cases, especially when it had to do with potions ... which was 97% of them. He was terrible at Potions and reading the files was like trying to read Chinese that had been translated into Hebrew by someone who only spoke Portuguese. He practically needed an interpreter ... which was why the current Head of the Department had told him (with far more amusement than the situation called for, if anyone cared to know) that he’d called in a consultant. It was said consultant he was currently heading to meet. For whatever reason, the meeting had been scheduled in one of the conference rooms. Since there wasn’t anyone else coming, Harry wasn’t entirely sure why he couldn’t have just used his own office and saved him the trouble of walking across the department and running straight into the back of the individual currently trying to use the same door.
Catching himself, he glanced up to meet the eyes of the person ahead of him. As he did so, which took an annoyingly long time, he realized he’d must have missed a very key piece of information regarding this meeting. Blinking up at a very familiar face, he realized that he had definitely missed a very key piece of information regarding this meeting.
* * *
Draco has been shocked partially by the summons, even as part of him was not. He was the youngest Potion Master in the world since his godfather, Severus Snape. He specialized in the rare, difficult, dangerous and unique potions. unbeholden to any boss and only the regulations of the Ministry, Draco had dived into his potions. His social life had fallen and become limited, leaving him all the free time he wished. It made him, in the end, something of a workaholic. Something that might surprise those who knew him in school... unless they really knew him, and knew he held a great sense of work ethic beneath the snobbery and entitlement. The shock came in that they had actually called on him, an ex-Death Eater.
Yes, absolved of wrongdoing, having been forced into the ranks before he was an adult. Able to live a life thanks to the backing of one Harry Potter. Still... the damage had been done because of his father.
Damage that this summons might help to heal. It was why he accepted in short order. Why he was here, having Floo'd in from his private residence... in a roundabout way. Having the protections and seclusion of his private home protected as he only floo'd to public spaces directly from his parent's home of Malfoy Manor. The threats on his life had subsided, but... he still took care.
Draco was approaching the conference room to enter, chatting politely with the rookie Auror escorting him. Keeping the mask of aloof politeness in place. He paused just before the room as the rookie said something.
"Ah, here he is..."
Before Draco could look to see he felt a body collide against his back. Turning slightly, one blonde, perfectly sculpted brow rose up as he looked down... Down into bright green eyes framed by glasses and messy hair. Harry Potter. no longer a boy, the baby fat and softness of boyhood was gone, leaving masculine features... still short. Draco had seen Harry some from a distance and in the papers, but he was unsure if his former rival had done any vertical growing since Hogwarts. Draco, on the other hand, now stood an inch of six feet.
Draco knew how it must look. Potter, such a mess, and Draco standing straight with his perfectly pressed dove gray slacks and robe, the robe which was left open over a matching gray vest, white dress shirt and pale blue tie with dove gray pinstripes. "I'm not sure why you bother to wear your glasses if you're not going to use them as intended," Draco said, one corner of his mouth perking up slightly. Draco then stepped aside and motioned into the room. "After you, Auror Potter. Lest you run myself or young Jasper over in your absent minded haste."
* * *
Harry normally prided himself on his reaction time, which didn’t really say a whole lot when it came to his current situation since he was still standing there in surprise at having found himself face to face with someone he didn’t really think he’d ever interact with again. That wasn’t based on some lingering resentment toward the other man. It was simply an understanding of reality. They didn’t run in the same circles and outside of an interest in Quidditch, they didn’t share any similarities.
It wasn’t until the comment concerning the use of his glasses was made in that familiar, if lacking in disdain, tone reached him that he finally reacted. Unfortunately, said reaction was the immediately embarrassed step backward and slight flush as he shoved his glasses back up his nose. Standing there in front of Malfoy made him aware of four very embarrassing things ... A) Malfoy was perfectly dressed and because he was standing next to the blond made himself look like a caricature of an adult. B) The git had a good five inches on him. C) He’d just run smack into the back of the Git like he was a child trying to push through a crowd. And finally, D) Jasper had witnessed the entire thing and was still staring at him as though at any moment he was going to lose the hold he had on his amusement and burst into laughter.
“Yes, well,” he muttered, waving Jasper on his way as he passed by him to enter the conference room. He was feeling even less inclined to having this meeting than he had been a few minutes earlier, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. “Potter is fine.” He didn’t know why but having Malfoy refer to him as an Auror just made him feel like the other man was mocking him, even if there was nothing in his tone to suggest that he was. It had been a very long time since he’d had to interact with Malfoy and he wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to play out which, perhaps, left him a little on edge.
He assumed that Malfoy had already been filled in on some of the details of the case but he still handed him a copy of the relevant information he’d need. He’d learned not to trust others to do the job to his standards. “Since you’re here, I assume you’re doing well.” When he’d thought to say it, it had seemed like a good idea. Now that he’d said it, he was pretty sure it sounded stiff and made it very aware that he was still debating how to handle the situation.
* * *
There was indeed a distinct lack of disdain in the words being used on both of their ends. Draco stood there, not loaming with a put upon superiority, but more just... poise. Looking down upon his old boyhood rival with a look that seemed bland... unless you knew Draco enough to pick out the mild curiosity and amusement in the stormy gray depths of his eyes and the slightest uplift to the left corner of his mouth.
Potter was short and looked like he dressed in the dark in a hurry. Still... his body looked trim beneath his mussed clothing. The wild hair looked soft, causing the familiar itch to reach out and touch. The years should have changed things. No, that wasn't right. They were changed. But... time should have doused the feelings. The obsession of before. Well... no, he couldn't say obsession anymore.
Draco stepped aside to let Potter pass and paused to give the young Auror a polite nod of his head, a small thank you for having guided him. Then he was inside, closing the door after himself and shutting out the world. Draco then took the folder, his hand and fingers even graceful in the simple gesture without even trying. Effortless from being drilled into him over the years. Waiting until Potter seated himself, Draco then sat with that same effortless grace and opened the folder to look over the first page before looking up once more.
"I could say the same. To answer, though, yes. Like yourself, I have applied my talents properly." The left corner of his mouth ticked up in an obvious half smirk of amusement. "Though it seems if you've tried to expand your talents, fashion certainly was not among them."
* * *
Despite his desire to not be faced with the amusement of the younger Auror, he was feeling distinctly out of place now that the door had been closed, leaving them alone with only each other for company. That was the way this meeting had originally been intended, but that didn’t seem to remove any of the awkwardness Harry was still feeling after their original run in. If he was honest with himself, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of the sensation. Was it simply because he’d made a fool of himself in front of the former slytherin? He’d never really cared before so he didn’t see why he cared what Malfoy thought of him now.
Sitting across from Draco, he took the opportunity to take him in while the other was occupied with the folder Harry had handed him. He didn’t know why he had been expecting him to look the same as he had the last time Harry had seen him. They’d just survived a war. There was no more haunted look (for either of them, to be fair), no stress, no worry. Harry noted that he didn’t even come across as the Malfoy he’d known prior to the war. There was no sign of that all too familiar sneer which, he idly thought, was a much needed improvement. When Malfoy finally glanced up, a hint of amusement at Harry’s expense lingering in the look, Harry raised an eyebrow.
Was that a compliment?
The strangeness of the situation still had him on his guard but when Malfoy followed it up with a light insult regarding his appearance, Harry felt himself relax. There was no hint of malice. There had only been a hint of amusement in the tone, but despite that it had taken the edge off. That was more like their usual exchanges and Harry rolled his eyes. “Well, we can’t all look like we just stepped out of a GQ magazine, can we?”
He did, however, glance down at himself, finally noting just how loose his tie had become. Making an irritated nose, he gave it a final tug and tossed it onto the table beside his own folder. Why they had to bother wearing them in the first place was beyond him. With his hands now free, he flipped his own folder opened. “I’m going to assume that they haven’t broken down the details on this case for you, so I included a breakdown. To put it as simply as I can, we need a breakdown of it’s make up so we can track the ingredients. For whatever reasons, the guys we have can’t seem to do it,” he explained offering him a shrug accompanied by an unsurprised shrug. Despite the fact that he worked for the Ministry, himself, he still didn’t have the highest respect for the administration as a whole. “We’ve already had five deaths as a result of this crap and I’d like to keep that number from growing, so if you don’t have any objections I’d like to have your security clearances processed as soon as possible.”
He supposed he could have eased into it a bit more, but Harry wasn't really one to sit back on his heels and wait. Never had been and that certainly hadn't changed.
* * *
There was the barest tilt to the right from his head at Potter's curious words. Draco assumed it meant something, but for the life of him, Draco could not place it. Must have been a muggle thing. "I do not know of a GQ Magazine. I will assume it is something of a good thing, considering..." Draco motioned to the now discarded tie.
Always such a mess. At least Potter's clothes were no longer baggy and ill-fitted. Well, they were not perfectly fitted to the other wizard's form, but it was fairly close to it. Room for improvement.
Once Potter was settled and opening his own folder, Draco's eyes fell away. As much as Draco felt he could remain surveying the many subtle changes in the other, he wasn't about to be caught doing so. To give another such ammo... No, Draco couldn't fathom doing so.
"I see..." he said in a distracted manner as he slowly flipped through the papers. Eyes scanning the information that had been gathered. The flipping paused over the notes on what the Ministry had done to identify the potion made drug. His expression becoming clearly focused. "They should have brought me in more quickly. These tests... it shouldn't have taken so long to come to these results." Draco's jaw was set as he reached into his robe with one hand and pulled out papers neatly tri-folded. He handed them out over the table for Potter to take. "All the forms for my clearance are filled out and notarized before arriving."
He then looked up at Potter. "I will not work within a Ministry Laboratory. They will not have the equipment nor shielding I will require."
* * *
There was a brief moment where Harry had legitimately forgotten that Draco was a Pureblood. The fact that GQ was a muggle based magazine that the other man may not have even known was just something that had flown completely over his head. Well ... he was the least fashionable man in Wizarding England (save maybe Ron) and he still knew what GQ was. The fact that someone didn’t know what it was made him pause for a moment before shrugging.
“Muggle,” he nodded, reaffirming the reason that Malfoy hadn’t heard of it. “Men’s lifestyle magazine.” He really didn’t understand why he bothered to go further and explain what it was. It clearly wasn’t going to be a sports magazine if they were talking about fashion.
He was relatively glad that Malfoy seemed to be fine with settling into the topic at hand. Harry was much more comfortable discussing his work than he was discussing fashion magazines. He's comment about having called him in sooner earned only a shrug from Harry. There was a lot of things the brass around here didn’t do in a timely manner. Harry had grown accustomed to that a long time ago and when it came to the details on this particular strand of narcotic, well, he couldn’t really formulate an argument about the time frame it should have taken.
Reaching out to pick up the paperwork Malfoy had slid to him, he nodded his thanks and glanced over them to ensure nothing had been missed. If nothing else, he certainly appreciated the thoroughness and expediency. It made his own job a little easier.
“Somehow, I am not surprised,” he commented, dryly. Whether it was a lack of surprise on the lack of expectations on the Ministry’s side or a lack of surprise on Draco’s preference he didn’t say. Flicking through his own folder, Harry found the legal documents outlining his responsibility as a third party to ensure all security measures and slid it across to him. “You can owl it back when you’re done going over it. I doubt they’ll have an issue with it.”
Running through the checklist in his head, he glanced back to Malfoy. “You’re fine with higher than normal traffic?” he asked. If he intended to work from his own location, there was going to be a lot more of a high ministry presence ... even if it was just his own team. “Contact with the rest of the team will be limited for the most part, but I fully intend to deal with this case personally.” He didn't mention the fact that he usually was neck deep in most of the cases he took on. He assumed that was a given.
* * *
Draco just gave a slight nod of his head, acknowledging the information. A muggle magazine. Nothing of any real consequence to him.
It was easy to see and take note of the fact Potter eased up as the topic turned toward work. To be honest, Draco felt it easy to slip into the mindset as well. Though... he was, as always, aware of Potter. Perhaps not as stark and acute as when they were younger, but with an aching familiarity. It was curious to see old tells still in place.
Draco took the documents handed to him and raised an eyebrow as Potter went on. Talking about traffic within his home, and that it would be increasing. His jaw set for a moment. His thoughts flashing through a rapid succession of thoughts. "I will not insult either of us by going through the token dance of refusing entrance to anyone in my home and you denying the request." Draco then stood, closing the folder with the documents tucked inside for safe keeping. "You will be the only person I will allow within my home, or to even know its exact location."
* * *
If he was completely honest, he half expected Malfoy to fight him on the whole access to his home topic. When all he did was stand, tucking the folder under his arm, and declared that he was the only one allowed into the blond’s home, Harry felt his eyebrows raise. That wasn’t exactly the fight he’d been expecting. Hell, it wasn’t even a fight. After a moment, he snorted and stood as well. “Should I be worried?” he asked, amused despite himself.
The words were meant more as a teasing comment than anything else. He doubted Malfoy would openly accept a job and then murder him when he attempted to get the information the Ministry was paying Malofy to obtain. The paper trail, itself, was a ridiculous give away.
The fact that he would have to be the sole point of contact didn’t really bother him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t planned on being particularly active in this case and this way it decreased the amount of security breaches and possibilities of the information being leaked ... even if it was going to make his schedule a bit more frantic than he’d already managed to make it.
Oh well. He had wanted something to occupy his time. Running errands to Malfoy’s house couldn’t possibly be worse than the alternative .... right? Maybe?
* * *
Draco stood there, quiet a moment. A serious and contemplative expression on his face. To Draco that question was light, though he knew from the tone it was meant to be. But then... the war hadn't ended for him, merely changed. Ostracised by the Light and the Dark. A target seen as having escaped judgement and having abandoned the ways of his parents and Purebloods.
"You will be entering the secluded and highly protected home of a confirmed ex-Death Eater. A home containing all manner of potentially volatile potion ingredients. One who is regarded as evil by one group of people and a traitor by the other." Draco said these things as a matter of fact. Securing the front button of his outer robe, needlessly straightening his tie, tucking the folder under an arm.
"If you were not worried, you would be a fool with a death wish." Draco stilled then, eyes raising to meet Potter's. "Well, I suppose out of anyone in our world, that would describe you."
* * *
Harry didn’t bother informing the former Slytherin that he’d gone into the highly protected home of an Active Death Eater and so long as he didn’t have some weird reincarnated/frankenstein version of his Aunt hidden in some dark corner of his home, Harry was pretty sure that he’d be alright. No point dredging up the past and all that. Besides, as amusing as thinking about Malfoy trying to piece together a monster version of his Aunt during a lightning storm was, it didn’t really add to the conversation.
Instead, he simply allowed Draco to continue on with his warnings, only forgetting himself when a slow smirk moved across his lips at Draco’s description of what he would be if he wasn’t worried. With said smirk still quite evident, he offered the other man a shrug. “We all have our talents.”
Since Malfoy had already stood, Harry supposed he might as well do the same. At this current stage, there wasn’t much to discuss. Hell, until most of this paperwork was dropped off at the department he wasn’t even allowed to discuss it. Red tape was a bitch, to put it simply. “I’ll drop this off on the way back to the department,” he commented, indicating the papers Draco had handed him with a little wave, “I’ll assume you’re no adverse to me dropping off the material tomorrow?”
* * *
"No, I am not. You will need to floo to Malfoy Manor. I will instruct one of the elves to provide you with the floo address to my home from there. There are very few locations connected to my home, and I plan to keep it that way." It would make things hard for Draco and Harry, but Draco wouldn't budge on that front. For now. It could be reassessed if this case took longer than usual.
"Until then, I'll take my leave." Draco said, giving Harry a slight nod before turning to leave. He'd have to ensure that his home was ready for visitors and that his elf would be aware he would be expecting company. Just in case Potter happened to arrive near a meal time. He was not such an ungrateful host that he wouldn't feed a person stopping in near the time of a meal.