FIC: A Week Worth of Forever (Harry/Draco)

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Title: A Week Worth of Forever
Author: chrysanthec 
Prompt: PROMPT #139
Adapted From: Pretty Woman
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word count: 31k
Rating: NC-17
Contains (Highlight to view): *AU-setting which may account for OOCness of characters *
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.
Notes: Dear who_la_hoop, I totally agree with you that the movie was a very romantic one. It has always been one of my old time favourite classics and I enjoyed re-watching it during the creation of this fic. I had to alter and change a little bit to fit for H/D so it probably didn’t entirely follow how you might have imagined it to be, but I hope you’ll still find it likable. Those of you who knew the movie well will probably find some exact dialogues that I deliberately left in there. Hotel names - since I’ve never had the chance yet to visit London, all the hotel names in the fic were found through Google, please disregard them if there happen to have direction or location errors. Regarding the artifacts, I borrowed names from actually existing ones but the history behind them is all made up. Thank you to Vyna, my dear friend, for the hand-holding and being with me the whole time I’ve been panicking over this fic. Thank you to the lovely mods, for being patient with me and indulging my endless request for extensions. Thank you to K and L for the last minute beta-ing. You’re lifesavers! Truly!
Summary: Harry didn’t know if picking up a random rent boy was such a good idea...even if he was just asking for directions.

~

“I’ve told you, Ginny. This case is very important and it takes time to solve it. I don’t know how long it will take me. You could ask my deputy about it. I’m not lying to you.”

Harry Potter sitting in his VIP room in the grand hotel that held the Ministry gala; the place was now buzzing noisily with people downstairs. He was in front of the Floo, connected to Ginny Weasley, his girlfriend for two years and counting, trying to talk sense into that red head of hers. Obviously, it wasn’t working.

“Harry, I’ve spoke to your deputy more times than I can count and clearly more times than I’ve spoken with you in the past two years since we’ve been together. That excuse is getting old, it’s not going to work this time, not after you’ve been using the same one so many times. Pull the other one.” Ginny crossed her arms and huffed.

Harry’s temper, which had been silently boiling within him from the time they had started this conversation, flared as he lashed out.

“No, I don’t need to! But you know what? Do whatever you like. I don’t care anymore!” He scowled.

Ginny’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. She stared at Harry incredulously for a long moment, then she uncrossed her arms and ground her teeth together before shrieking: “Harry James Potter, I cannot believe you! If that’s all you could think to say, go marry your bloody cases, then! Obviously they are more important to you than me! We’re done!” She shut down the Floo almost immediately, leaving Harry to the silence of his VIP room again and looking at the gray ashes in the fire.

Harry stood up, staring at the cold fireplace. His anger, instead of ceasing, only grew. In addition to this, the case on which he was assigned to go undercover only added to his annoyance.

That case he hadjust told Ginny about, which she had chosen not to believe, dealt with smuggling of ancient Muggle artefacts infused with Dark Magic from Wizarding London to Muggle London. Artefacts tainted with Dark Magic were quite common crimes in the Wizarding World that were easily solved, or at least the Ministry believed them to be. The amount of Dark Magic found in the artefacts they had managed to obtain, however, when accumulated altogether, had been predicted to cause a destructive explosion large enough that it would surely cost hundreds of lives.

This required Harry, as the Head Investigating Auror of the case, to disguise himself as a Muggle businessman who traded in the same kinds of artefacts that were involved.

His job was to play the role of the wealthy businessman and get in contact with the obsessive collectors of ancient artefacts, Wizarding and Muggle, to try to buy their collections off their hands and deliver them back to the custody of the Ministry for investigation.

The Ministry sponsored a gala and had invited all the celebrities and well-known antiques collectors - again, both Muggle and Wizarding - who would be likely to have the slightest chance to be involved in illegal trading.

The room, although as spacious as one could wish and barely imagine, was suddenly more suffocating than the cupboard Harry had spent nearly his entire childhood in. Feeling the need to get some fresh air and to clear his mind of needless matters, Harry stepped out of the room and went downstairs to leave the place.

He saw Cho Chang walking past the stairs as he was coming down and suddenly remembered something Ginny had said to him during their Floo conversation. He picked up his pace and called out to the young woman just as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Hi, Harry. How are you?” she greeted upon spotting him and then frowned at his somewhat tousled appearance. “Are you leaving already? Where to?”

“Yes. Hello, Cho. I just remembered there’s something I needed to do but haven’t, so yes, I need to leave now. But there’s something I’d like to ask you.” Harry then pulled Cho aside and lowered his voice. “When we were dating, was it true that you had more conversations with my deputy than me?” he asked, his tone bewildered but hopeful.

Cho hesitated for a second before she nodded and replied. “Yes. In fact, your last deputy was one of my special guests at my wedding; his girlfriend was one of my bridesmaids.” She looked at him worriedly. “Are you all right, Harry? You look a little pale.”

Harry was at a loss of speech. Had he really neglected his girlfriends so much that their interactions with him had been not as nearly as frequent as with his colleagues? He knew he was a bit of a workaholic and sometimes forgot to tend to his friends and close ones when he was busy with work, but even he had to admit that this was a little ridiculous.

“Harry?”

Harry snapped out of his trance to see Cho frowning at him. He smiled and pulled her into a friendly hug.

“Congratulations. I haven’t even congratulated you properly on your marriage! Your husband is a lucky guy.” He gave a kiss on her cheek before pulling away. “I have got to go now. It was nice seeing you again. Do keep in touch, yeah?”

Cho returned his farewell and Harry walked towards the exit of the building.

“Excuse me, does this car belong to Mr. Michael Corner?”

Harry was at the car park in the front courtyard of the hotel. All undercover Aurors were each assigned a Muggle car to prevent rousing suspicion when going into Muggle areas. Special driving lessons had been given in the week prior of their first day on the case. Personally, Harry preferred Apparition , because he would have the exact coordinates of where they were supposed to go, and driving was just not his thing.

“Yes, Mr. Potter. That’s Mr. Corner’s Aston Martin,” one of the valets answered.

“Great,” Harry said. He then proceeded to open the door.

“Potter!”

Harry looked up at the sound of his name being called, and just then, the owner of the car which he was intending to ‘steal’ away strode up to him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Corner demanded as he stopped by the other side of his car.

Harry shrugged and now opened the door. “Going out to drive for a bit,” he said.

Corner rolled his eyes. He raised his right hand and stuck out his index finger, holding it up in front of his face, and then pointed backwards sharply at a black Audi back in the corner. He then turned his head and faced Harry. “In case you’ve forgotten, Potter, your car is over there.” He jabbed his finger for emphasis.

Harry looked at him, smiling harmlessly and charmingly. “I know. But in case you didn’t notice, Corner, my car is blocked by Ernie’s and yours. And since your lovely car is at the place of most convenience, and since I kind of really like it as well, I decided that it won’t hurt to borrow it for the rest of the day. You’d agree, surely?” he asked innocently. And, without waiting for an actual response, he hopped into the car.

Corner slapped his palm on the roof of the car, stopping Harry from driving away. Then he knocked rudely on the car window and snarled through gritted teeth: “Do you even know the way around here, Potter? Know how to get to that hotel you’re staying at?”

Harry rolled down the window and leaned towards the side where Corner stood. “Thank you for your concern, Corner, but The Milestone isn’t really that hard to get to. I know my way.” He grinned at him.

“Potter, you listen--” Corner began, but he was caught by surprise and nearly lost his balance as Harry stepped on the accelerator and sped away.

*

Draco Malfoy was lying on his bed in his rented flat, scowling at the ceiling and hating the world in general, as usual since the day the Ministry had decided to confiscate Malfoy Manor as war reparations.

It wasn’t like their family only had the Manor to reside in - in fact, under his father’s arrangements, Draco and his mother had stayed mostly in Northern Europe and other places abroad during the uprise of the Dark Lord, to avoid involvement in the war. It was rather the principle of these things that Draco felt was unacceptable. Malfoy Manor was his ancestral home; it had a specific and significant meaning to a Malfoy.

He had returned to England upon finishing school - Durmstrang, Lucius Malfoy had made sure his son received special treatment from Karkaroff – and, in fact, had been called back in by the Ministry to determine his sentence for any crime he’d ever committed during the war. Unfortunately, the Ministry had failed to find any and eventually had to declare Draco’s innocence, choosing to seize the Manor instead as a punishment to the Malfoy family as a whole.

Draco had been forced to live elsewhere, and it had been months since then. His mother had returned to the safety of their estate in France, although under house arrest. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about her living arrangements and needs. Lucius was sentenced to Azkaban for Merlin-knew-how-long, maybe indefinitely, but Draco tried not to think about that. If you asked Draco, he didn’t have any idea why his father had been so obsessed and stupid enough to serve the Dark Lord.

Draco was still mulling over the things that had happened these last few months when he heard voices from down the road. He sat up in his bed, opened his window and peered out at the dark street.

It was the landlord, Draco recognised him from the bald head that glinted under the streetlights. He was yelling at Draco’s next-door neighbour, ranting on about not paying rent on time. Draco rolled his eyes. It was the only thing the man ever complained about. Luckily, Draco always paid his rent on time. The Ministry might have been able to take Malfoy Manor from their hands, but they couldn’t touch their Gringotts accounts. Despite living away from home, Draco still knew how to enjoy his life and was making the best out of it.

He shut the window and lay back on the bed, arms folded under his head. The landlord’s shouts were muffled by the barrier of the thick window glass, but it was still annoying the hell out of Draco as he listened. With that much noise, he couldn’t possibly go back to his thinking.

Then suddenly his temper got the better of him and he shot out of the bed. This was so unfair. He should’ve been in the Manor having tea after dinner with his mother right now. He should’ve been able to enjoy his baths in his pool-sized tub with bubbles for as long as he wished and not the rushed showers he’d had for these last few months. He should’ve been with both of his parents, enjoying their lives finally together as a family in the Manor, watching the peacocks stride proudly through their gardens. His father should never have had to face the fate of being sent to that awful place that was called a prison instead of the hell it truly was. And the Ministry certainly should never have had the right to take away what was rightfully theirs and claim it as their own.

The more Draco thought about it, the angrier he became. He felt like bursting; the anger within him had finally accumulated long enough and was now ready to explode. He thought, why not go out and enjoy something for a while since the Wizarding World held no hope for him, and thinking about it would do nothing to help anyway. He stopped and stood in the middle of his room, thinking about what he could do to relieve all the tension in him.

Oh yes.

He could go find someone to fuck for a night.

Draco had heard from older students during his school time that having sex was one of the best experiences you could have in your life. But Draco had not found anyone who could stir his interests enough to take them to bed for all of his twenty years of life. Not that he didn’t wank like other boys did or anything. He did, and it felt brilliant. He had fooled around with some of the nice-looking boys in his dorm sometimes, and it had all been wonderful, but he had never gone all the way.

It might be embarrassing to admit, but Draco was, in fact, a virgin.

But was he really going to just have some random sex with a random stranger like this? Not that he was saving it up for anyone; it was just that the thought of having sex with a random guy made Draco cringe a little.

Hell, I’m just going out to relieve some of my pent-up tension. And I can always just Apparate away if I find them revolting and don’t want them to touch me or if I’m disgusted by their lack of skill.

I’ll be fine. It’s all for fun, he decided.

With that thought as his final resolve, Draco went and picked out the pair of leather pants that he knew would hug the curves of his arse and legs so perfectly that he’d be walking sex. He put the pants on and chose a tight leather jacket with a tee shirt to go under it to complete the look. He transfigured his hair to a slightly darker shade instead of his natural pale-blond, to avoid recognition. He wouldn’t be the only wizard who visited Muggle London, after all.

Finally satisfied with his looks after long minutes of checking his mirror and several small changes here and there, Draco took out the couple of Muggle currency notes left from his last visit to Muggle London, stuffed them in the back pocket of his leather pants, and walked out of his apartment.

He found himself on a discreet corner and Apparated to Muggle London, deliberately choosing to appear straight in a dark alley somewhere in the area that he knew Muggles called Red Light District, a region that was known to have prostitutes and rent boys all over the place.

Draco wandered around the streets,looking at how Muggle prostitutes did their business, and flirted shamelessly with the men that he found cute or hot. He was quite enjoying himself and was about to stop there and really pick someone who looked fit and handsome to go for the night when he saw an Aston Martin speed by him out of the corner of his eye. He turned, his gaze following the car. He watched as it pulled up by the sidewalk just a few feet ahead of him.

Draco was suddenly curious.

The Malfoys were one of the most wealthy pure-blood families in not just Britain district but the whole Wizarding World. Although they might think that Muggles and Muggleborns were not worthy of their world, as a wealthy family and one that lived in the upper social class of the Wizarding World, they knew how to appreciate fine creations, Muggle and Wizarding alike.

Muggles sure knew how to build their cars.

Draco had got his first magical car at the age of five, because his parents had spoiled him something awful. Lucius had taught him everything there was to know about car functions, and the contraption had fascinated him so much that he had even conducted research on the possibilities of making it even better. When Lucius had told him that Muggles developed newer car models than the Wizarding World had, Draco had switched his attention and interest on the subject to Muggle car manufacturers.

In short, as unlikely as it might be, Draco Malfoy was an expert when it came to Muggle cars.

Clearly, this car did not belong in the Red Light District. It was fancy. It was pricey. Just by looking at it you would knew that no common Muggle could easily afford it.

Talk about perfect timing. Draco grinned. His target for the night had arrived.

He walked to the display window of a closed shopand checked himself over in the reflection on the transparent glass. He took off his jacket and pulled at the hem of his tee and rolled it upwards. Then he pulled the fabric forwards from both sides and tied it together into a knot in the middle, right at the line beneath his chest, baring his stomach and showing off his abs for everyone to ogle. Running a hand through his hair to make it look softer and casual and all the more sexier, he took one last look at himself and smirked.

Perfect.

And then he walked toward the car that had stopped nearby, on a quest to seduce his wealthy Muggle prey for the night.

*

Harry hadn’t had any idea where he was going before about an hour ago. He had driven down Corinthia Hotel and just followed wherever the road ahead had taken him. When he finally felt he’d had enough fresh air and felt better, it was already getting dark. When he took notice of where he was going, he had already lost his way. He followed the signs that seemed to lead him back to the city and found himself driving aimlessly around in town. After driving blindly for another fifteen minute or so, he knew he had to stop or he might end up being even further away from where he wanted to go. So he pulled up to a random street corner in a busy part of town and sat in his driver seat staring ahead blankly.

He pondered whether he could, or really, should use his wand with a Point Me charm to get going and to his hotel. Unfortunately, there were simply too many Muggles around here. He supposed that he could get out of the car and ask around for directions, since at least he knew the name of the hotel that he was staying at, if not the exact location.

Harry was just about to do that when he heard someone knocking on his window. He turned around to face the other side and found that there was a blond boy standing outside his car, looking through the window and grinning at him. Harry's gaze followed a path from the boy's face, down his entire body, taking in the details of how he was dressed. The outfit was so revealing and tight that Harry immediately realised where he’d driven into. The boy was obviously a rent boy, and looking around at the way other people in the area were dressed confirmed Harry’s thoughts. They were prostitutes picking up random customers.

Harry shook his head at the boy to indicate that he was not interested, but the boy didn’t seem to get his subtle implication and instead motioned for him to roll down the window. Harry hesitated for a moment before he decided that he would do just that, to tell the boy vocally that he was not interested and neither was he in the mood.

“Hey, handsome. Where are you going?” the boy said in a flirtatious tone. Harry thought the guy was probably about his age, but he looked younger.

“Sorry, but if you’re looking for an investor to go for a one night stand, you’re looking at the wrong guy. I’m not interested,” Harry replied and turned back the other way, away from the boy.

Harry saw in the side mirror of the car that the boy had raised his eyebrows at him and asked in a mocking tone: “Really? Could have fooled me. Why would a guy like you stop in the middle of the Red Light District if you were not looking for what you claimed that you were not?”

“I -”Harry turned instinctively to argue that he hadn’t know where he was until he had seen him, but then realised that maybe he could just ask this boy for directions and be gone as quickly as he could manage. And so he said instead, “I’m lost. Would you happen to know how to get to The Milestone Hotel from here?”

The boy blinked at him for a few seconds, as though he had not expected to be asked for directions, and then answered him dazedly. “Ah, yes. Yes, I know. Everybody around here knows that hotel. I could tell you how to get there.”

“Great! So how do I go from here?” Harry asked earnestly, already having forgotten why the boy had approached him in the first place.

“Fifty bucks.”

“I’m sorry?” asked Harry, confused.

“It’s fifty bucks for giving you directions to your destination.” The boy flattened his palm and reached through the window and into the car, wiggling his fingers pointedly at him. “Pay up first, and I’ll tell you.”

Harry stared incredulously at the pale slender hand outstretched in his face. He could not believe his luck - no, this was a misfortune. This was definitely not his day. First his girlfriend threatened and then really broke up with him. Then he was told that he honestly didn’t spend enough time with his friends. Then he had got lost. And now a prostitute was trying to rip him off.

But it seemed that he wouldn’t be let go easily if he refused the offer.

Harry thought about considering for a moment, but then dismissed the idea - because who reasoned with prostitutes? Then he pulled out his wallet, took out a fifty pound note and slapped it into the boy’s hand.

The fingers slowly wrapped around the note, and the hand withdrew. Then the boy did something unexpected. He opened the door at his side, and jumped into the car uninvited. He even had the nerve to grin at Harry, and Harry rolled his eyes in response.

“So. You’re going to The Milestone, yes?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” The boy nodded. “Go down to that traffic light set, and then turn left.”

Harry started up the engine and drove as he was told. He didn’t talk much, not seeing the need to start a conversation, because there was no reason to. They drove in silence, turned at many random corners that Harry didn’t care to remember, and as he drove further and further away, he suddenly became aware that he wouldn’t know if it was the right way after all and started to wonder if he was being deceived.

Then the car went slightly wobbly, and Harry, reflexively, took hold of the gear stick and tried to move it into another gear slot.

A hand moved to cover his, and Harry looked up, startled, to find that the rent boy who was possibly tricking him was moving the gear for him. He gave the boy a questioning look and turned back to concentrate on the road.

“This car yours?” the boy asked.

“No,” Harry replied curtly.

“Ooooh. You stole it?”

“No,” he said promptly. Then, as an afterthought, he added: “Not really.”

“Hmmm.”

Harry glanced at the blond from the corner of his eyes, and sure enough, disbelief was written all over the boy’s face.

“Really, I mean. I most definitely didn’t steal it. It is not my car, but I asked for permission to borrow it and I’ve got it,” Harry hurried to explain, though he don’t know why he’d felt the need to, but somehow he just had to tell him.

“Okay, whatever. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” The boy waved a hand dismissively at him. “It’s a brilliant car. That’s all I’m saying.”

“You know a lot about cars?” Harry asked.

Harry found that this boy intriguing. He didn’t seem to be an ordinary rent boy. Not that Harry had ever associated with people in that specific industry to know much about them, but still, it was an instinctive feeling.

“I’ll be modest and say that I don’t, but obviously I’m more familiar with them than you are. I’ve liked to play around with car parts since I was young,” the boy told him.

“I don’t know if it’s obvious or not, but I’m not too fond of cars,” said Harry, and then he realised he hadn’t ask the boy’s name. “What’s your name?”

“Draco McFloy.”

“Draco, that’s a unique name.” Harry smiled a little, trying out the name. It sounded nice with his voice. He liked it. “So how much do you guys make these days?”

“I won’t take anything less than two hundred.”

Harry cocked an eyebrow. “A night?”

“An hour.”

Harry turned to look at Draco, and Draco stared back at him as though he didn’t find what he had said odd at all and cocked his eyebrow at him in return. Harry chuckled disbelievingly. “You charge two hundred pounds an hour and you’re wearing clothes that barely cover you up? If I had known that it’s so easy to make money in the sex industry, I might have chosen to try it out too. I mean, you make nearly as much as I do!”

Draco leered at him for good measure, looking him up and down. “Well, I suppose you could bang the market quite nicely. Can’t say I’d mind competition.”

Harry laughed out loud at that before he could think it over, shaking his head. “You’re interesting,” he chuckled. He looked at Draco again before his attention focussed back on the road ahead. “So. Two hundred pounds an hour. Very stiff,” Harry remarked.

Then, just as Harry thought their conversation was over and the mood was lightened enough so he could solely concentrate on driving, Draco snaked out his hand and reached down to cup Harry’s crotch, giving it a light squeeze. Harry tensed and stepped sharply on the break at the unexpected contact. He reminded himself of Draco’s career and told himself that that’s what they were like. Then Draco said something that took him completely off guard.

“Hmmm, well, no, not really. But it has potential.” He gave it another playful squeeze and then let Harry go.

Harry barked out a laugh in surprised shock and turned to look at Draco while Draco did the same. They shared an amused look with each other and Harry found Draco’s smirk quite adorable.

They drove on for the rest of the way in pleasant silence.

*

The Milestone Hotel they stopped in front of was beautiful. As reluctant as he was, Draco still had to admit that this place was living up to his standard of what high-class five-star hotels should be, despite it being a Muggle hotel. At least the exterior looked standard. Maybe Muggles really did have superior taste in finer things, as Draco would know from those handsome cars created by Muggle hands.

He and the rich hunk were out of the car now, which was driven away by the servants waiting by the entry of the hotel. He was turned to Draco, and then he was talking, and Draco didn’t know how to respond.

“Well, I’m here. Thank you, who knows where I have ended up if I hadn’t bumped into you,” he said sincerely.

Draco wanted to laugh, and so he did, because it appeared that this bloke had forgotten it was him who had approached him and why. So he pointed it out helpfully, because he had always liked to help others. “No need to thank me, really. I came up to you in hopes of bedding you tonight, remember?” He added a leer towards the man’s nether regions for a more obvious hint.

His prey laughed in return, and it was a nice sound that flew with the wind and floated past Draco’s ears. He imagined what it would feel like to have the man kneel in front of him, his mouth fastened to Draco’s cock, his laughter vibrating deep in his throat. He suppressed a shiver at the thought. He would stick around and accomplish what he had come out to do tonight with this man. He would.

The man looked at him, amusement clear in his brilliant green eyes. And it was then Draco noticed that he had nice eyes. It had been dark inside the car and he hadn’t seen them before. He scratched an extra mark on the tally in his mind. This man was definitely a great catch.

“Well then, what do you suppose we do about it?” the man asked Draco, a hint of laughter evident in his tone.

Draco rolled his eyes thoughtfully, as though he was thinking it over. “Well,” he drawled. “I can’t head back to where you’ve picked me up because I haven’t made business tonight and thus I have no cash. And since you’ve actually did pick me up,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his prey, whose lips had curled up at the corners, Draco was pleased to notice, “I’d say you keep your end of the bargain and finish what you started.”

His listener nodded solemnly. “Well, if you insist, then yes, I supposed you’re right.” He came closer to Draco, and whispered: “How much will you take for a night then?”

Draco chuckled. “The whole night? Oh, you probably can’t afford it, rich as you are.”

“Try me.”

Draco hesitated. He honestly had no idea how much Muggle prostitutes charged a night and what could be classified as expensive. So he just doubled his supposed hour rate and added a bit more.

“Five hundred,” he tried.

His human-wallet merely cocked an eyebrow at him. “Deal.”

Draco immediately regretted that he hadn’t asked for more than that.

So the negotiation had been settled, and his confirmed bed partner for tonight came forwards and offered him his coat, but Draco didn’t take it.

“What?” he asked, looking at the thick and cosy coat questioningly, and then turned that gaze to its owner.

“Put this on, it won’t do if you just trudge in there wearing those.” He jerked his chin at Draco’s attire-for-sexy-rent boys.

“Oh. I think what I’m wearing is fine,” said Draco, but with a look at the other man’s slightly furrowed eyebrows, he took the coat and wrapped it around himself. “But I’ll indulge you. Only because you’re paying me,” he added.

“Thank you.” The man wrapped an arm around Draco’s shoulder and ushered him forward towards the hotel entry. Draco thought his hand felt warm against him, even through the coat.

“Since our agreement has been settled, I think I should get to know your name,” Draco said as they made their way to the doors.

The two hotel servants waiting at the doors bowed to them - to the man next to him - and opened the doors for them. His date for the night only answered him after they had entered the building.

“Harry.”

Draco widened his eyes comically and smacked Harry on the shoulder. “Harry? Really? That’s my favourite name!” he exclaimed, but of course that was an outright lie.

Harry gave him a small smile and then went to the reception. It was then that Draco noticed that his exclamation apparently had drawn attention to himself. The occupants in the lobby, mostly looking upper-class - which was only to be expected in such a place - had all turned to frown at him in disapproval.

Ha. Draco found it funny. In the twenty-two years of life that he’d lived till now, he had never been at the receiving end of such looks; in fact, normally he was the one giving those kind of disdainful stares to other people. These people might be the ones who played a decisive role in their boring Muggle world, but Draco was from one of those families that had the very same role in the Wizarding world.

Which meant he was better than them in every way possible. Draco’s inner voice told him this, and he agreed wholeheartedly.

He threw a sneer in the general direction of those people, focussing his menacing gaze on one poor young lady in a corner, who looked at him with a bit of awe and pity, as though she couldn’t decide which sentiment she should settle on. But Draco thought he understood her struggle perfectly.

I’m bloody good-looking, I know. But too bad I’m as bent as a pirate’s hook.

Draco continued to give people nasty looks as he followed Harry to his rooms - the man had called Draco to do so after checking in. They stopped in front of the lifts, waiting for an available one.

Harry’s attention was solely on the lift notification lights, and Draco looked around in curiosity. There was an elderly couple waiting with them somewhere behind them to their left, and the old lady was pinning him with a disapproving and despising glare, and Draco noticed that her gaze, still holding the same contempt, shifted to lock onto Harry, who was standing next to him.

And there was this sudden anger that flared up in Draco at her motion.

He shifted closer to Harry, his hip lightly touching the other man’s thigh. He bent slightly backwards, watching the elderly couple from the corner of his eyes, and then swung one long leg onto the large plant pot decor in the room, his gesture exaggerated and sharp enough to catch the attention of all three others almost immediately.

Having achieved what he had aimed for, he smirked to himself and, with one hand gripping Harry’s arm and the other tugging on the leather material cupping his own arse, he said in a loud voice, “Harry, darling, I think my undies got stuck on my leather...” The couple turned horrified and disgusted eyes on him, and he smiled at them sweetly. “Oh, what am I talking about? I wasn’t even wearing any undies at all.”

And just then a tingle sounded, and the lift doors opened. The lift attendant bowed his head at them, and Draco walked straight into it, his head held high, under the incredulous eyes and gaping faces of the couple.

There was a couch in the lift, and Draco raised his leg sideways and leaned on the furniture with an excited shout of, ‘Oh my, there’s a sofa!” He turned around to see Harry smiling apologetically to the elderly couple and then stepping into the lift too. Draco watched with great satisfaction as the doors slowly shut in the couple’s stunned faces.

“Sorry. Can’t help myself,” he murmured to Harry in apology.

Harry turned his head sideways and said nothing, but that subtle smile on his lips told Draco that he was more amused than indignant. He smiled to himself at the knowledge, feeling relief, and then sobered up when he realised what he was doing, and scolded himself instead.

You must be desperate to get laid if you’ve stooped to being pleased this easily.

*

“The Penthouse, sir.”

“Woo, the Penthouse,” Draco cooed at Harry even as he walked out of the lift.

Harry shook his head before exiting too, and when he turned around to thank the lift attendant, he found that the young man’s eyes were following Draco; his upper body even leaned out of the lift doors to trail after the blond more thoroughly. Harry frowned.

"Ahem." He coughed and succeeded at his intention of getting the lad's attention. The boy was looking guiltily back at him, embarrassed at being caught gawking after someone who was clearly with someone else. "Thank you," said Harry, and he stared down at the boy until he ducked his head and closed the lift doors before proceeding to his suite.

When he entered the room, he found that Draco had already plopped himself down on the couch with a glass of champagne in his hand, and Harry found himself looking towards the wine counter, only to find his assumption confirmed. Apparently the blond had helped himself to some of the champagne that had served only as ornament for him.

Draco noticed his presence and turned to him with a grin on his face. He toasted the champagne at Harry. "Nice collections you've got there. Want some?"

It felt like Draco was the one owning this room instead of Harry; somehow he had this kind of aristocratic air about him with his every move. And Harry found himself intrigued more than ever. Surely rent boys didn't all act like this? He shook his head, an answer for himself and the blond, too. "No, thanks. Help yourself, I don't drink." Then he moved to the large desk in the room, already piled up with stacks of papers, and hung his coat on the rack next to it before sitting down and picking up one of the papers.

He felt Draco's eyes on him as Draco watched him work. He let him, and for a while there was only silence. Harry felt as if he was back to his normal self again when he was fully concentrated on work. He didn't even notice that some time later Draco had set down his empty champagne glass and came over to him until he felt that something had blocked his reading lamp. Moments later, the documents in his hands were being taken away as well.

Harry looked up and met Draco's gaze. Only then did he see that the blond's eyes were a silvery gray, and somehow Harry found them fascinating. He had never met anyone with eyes that colour. Shifting his gaze down, he realised that Draco was currently sitting directly on top of his precious case files, and he was not looking one bit apologetic.

"You know," Draco began, his eyebrows rose in amusement, "I'm still going to charge you what we agreed on even if you're not going to do anything to me. Or with me. Or whatever, that doesn't matter. The point is that you'll still have to pay me, no matter what."

"You're sitting on my files."

"Oh, am I?" Harry watched as Draco made a show of looking over his shoulders and down at the desk, and then turned back to him. "Oh well, that just means you shouldn't be working. You should be relaxing and enjoying yourself while I'm here."

Despite himself, Harry leaned back in his chair and asked, his own eyebrows raised: "Are you always this demanding?"

Draco leered at him. "It depends on who I'm talking to." He hopped down from the desk and closed the distance between them in two quick steps. He leaned in close, stopping only inches from Harry's face, and whispered, his breath warm against Harry's lips: "And you've met the requirements." He backed away again before Harry had time to respond.

"Lovely." Harry deadpanned.

Draco leaned on his desk, his hands pushing against the surface and disturbing Harry's files again. Though Harry thought that as long as they were not smudged or somehow burned or soaked, he could always get them back to normal with magic when no one was looking. And then he caught Draco's movements at the edge of his vision and turned to see the blond producing a whole pack of Muggle condoms from the inside of his short jacket, each with a different colour. Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

Draco chucked the packages down onto his desk, swiping his arm out towards them in a welcome gesture. "Well, since you've met the requirements, have a pick." He leaned away from the desk. "While you're having your pick, I'll be in the bathroom just for a bit." With that he turned and left, leaving Harry staring at those colourful condoms spread across his neat work.

*

Draco ducked into the bathroom quickly and, after making sure that the door was carefully closed, he walked to the sink and pulled out his wand. Looking at himself in the mirror, he was glad that his hair colour hadn’t worn off, but he was sure it would be wearing off any time soon. All those condoms were only serving as a distraction so that he could be alone and renew his spell. He had only just done that when the door suddenly opened. Draco slipped his wand into his pants and whirled around, hands behind his back.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you hiding behind your back?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Draco said again. And then the two men were engaged in a staring contest. "Do you mind?" Draco asked after a while, breaking the eye contact and gesturing towards the door.

Harry took a step closer, stretching out his hand. "Show me what you're hiding there," he demanded.

Draco shook his head no and backed away against the sink. "It's nothing. Now could you get out for a while so I can do my business?"

"I said show me!" Harry repeated again, his voice raised in anger, before he came closer and forcefully grabbed Draco's arm to twist it forwards even as he said angrily, "I will not have you taking drugs in my presen--" only to find, as he managed to pry Draco’s hand open, that he was only holding a pack of toothpicks. Draco pulled his arm back sharply, and Harry let go of him almost immediately; it was as though he was burnt.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed," he apologised sincerely to Draco.

Draco rubbed at his wrist; damn this man and his oaf-like strength! His immediate impulse was to shout at the man for accusing him of such a disgusting behaviour and that he should well be sorry about it, but then he thought better of it and instead just shook his head, and said, "Never mind. Now could you please go back out and let me clean up? Or are you going to watch me?"

"I'll-- I'll leave you to it." Draco nodded and Harry went.

*

It was well into the night and Harry was sitting in the armchair reading his documents while Draco was sprawled on the floor, elbow braced against the carpet and head resting on his hand, another glass of champagne and a bowl of fresh strawberries next to him, watching him working, eating the fruit and drinking the champagne noisily, as though Harry was some entertainment show he found amusing. Most of all, Harry was quite sure that the blond was trying to distract him, again.

"You must be someone who works for the government," Draco commented out of the blue.

Harry looked up from his file to see Draco popping another strawberry into his mouth and chewing on it purposely slowly, making those squishy sounds. He continued to watch as Draco picked up the glass and drank, washing the fruit down his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. He waited until Draco had set down the glass again, his gray eyes never leaving Harry's.

"What makes you say that?" he finally asked.

Draco sat up straight, crossing his legs and leaning forwards with his upper body, and squinted at Harry as though he had to examine him first before he could answer him. And then he sat back and waved a hand around as he spoke. "You just have this sort of air about you that indicates it. And you have this sexy stern expression almost all day long. And you don't drink, you don't do drugs, and you're not even making any move when there's someone you can bugger all night! No one's this boring except government people." The way he said it, he made it sound like what Harry had been doing the whole night was a crime in and of itself.

Harry put down the document he was reading beside him on the side table, because there was no point continuing to work since his guest clearly wouldn't allow him. He relaxed his posture and leaned back against the chair. With an eyebrow raised at Draco, he asked: "Well then, what do you suggest we do?"

Draco's eyes glinted at that, and he leaned forwards again, this time dropping on all fours and crawling slowly and suggestively towards Harry. Harry suddenly felt as if Draco was some large wild cat approaching his prey dangerously, and unconsciously braced himself against the chair.

"Well, I think I have a good idea." the blond drawled, reaching Harry, resting his hands on Harry's thighs and lifting himself up onto his knees. He grabbed for Harry's tie and began to undress him. Harry let him.

"What can you do?" Harry whispered.

Draco raised his eyes to Harry's and smirked. He nudged Harry's legs apart and squeezed himself in between them, leaning forwards and stopping just inches from Harry's lips again. "Anything," he breathed, and then, lowering his eyes to Harry's mouth: "Just no kissing on the mouth." By this time, Harry's shirt had already been unbuttoned fully and Draco trailed his hand down from Harry's bare chest, across his stomach, and cupped Harry's bulge, rubbing it slowly. Harry sucked in a long breath through his nose.

"That's reasonable enough. Let's have at it, then."

Draco smiled seductively and lowered himself. A moment later, after the sound of his belt being unbuckled and trousers pulled down along with his pants, Harry sucked in another sharp breath as he felt himself being engulfed by moist warmth.

*

Draco was woken by the morning light glaring into his face and disturbing his sleep so much that, as reluctant as he felt, he still had to give in and open his eyes. He scowled at the sun shining brightly at him, as though that was its way of saying good morning to him. Draco rubbed his face into the pillow and stretched his arms out to feel the soft silky sheets. He was smiling and humming to himself in contentment when he suddenly started, having realised exactly where he was and what he had done last night. He bolted upright and got off the bed in lightning speed.

Shit.

He had planned to leave before the other man even awakened;he wasn't even here for the money, he was here to have some fun and piss around. And now he had ruined it.

Oh well, might as well go out there, say something like 'Thanks for the fuck' and get the hell out of here.

He grabbed a bathrobe from the adjacent bathroom, wrapping it around himself and checking himself in the mirror. He found the toiletries in the cupboard behind the mirror and got to his morning businesses. He remembered to charm his hair again before paddling out into the sitting room.

As he approached the doorway leading from the bedroom to the sitting room, he heard Harry's voice from the other side. Draco walked slowly towards him, the carpet silencing his footsteps. Although, with Harry talking rather furiously into the Muggle phone he was holding near his ear - Draco knew the device from the Muggle associates that his father did businesses with - he doubted the man would hear him, and he wondered what could have flipped Harry. Maybe he was not a morning person? Draco could surely sympathise with that. He waited until Harry had hung up before announcing his presence.

"Hi," he tried.

Draco watched as the other man looked over his shoulder and tried to smile apologetically at him. "Good morning," he said, while he tried to come up with some excuse to get himself out of here. Finding none, Draco thought he might as well just be straightforward. Prostitutes didn’t need a reason to move on to other investors, right? "Hmm, just thought I'd tell you before I go. But I can see you're busy, so I'll just see myself out, then." He was tempted to add what he had planned to say for his grand departure when he had decided to come out last night, but thought better of it. Instead, he just shut up and waited for the other man to acknowledge his leaving so he would get his 'earnings'.

To his surprise, Harry actually smiled back at him and probably ignored his whole speech because he said, "Morning. Come sit and have some breakfast." He gestured to the table.

It was only then Draco noticed that the table was filled with every possible breakfast dish there could be in the world. It reminded him of the breakfast he used to have with his parents at the Manor, and Draco found himself moving towards it without even knowing.

He sat down at one of the vacant chairs and said “Thank you” before he grabbed a croissant. As he started eating, Draco watched Harry again. The man was reading a newspaper and a quick look at his plate told Draco that he was not eating much. When Harry turned the newspaper sideways and held it with one hand so he could take his cup of coffee with the other, Draco saw the article he was reading. There was a clear picture of some antique vase. A closer look and Draco thought he recognised the thing.

"That's the Medici Valencian Vase. It was said to have been sold to the National Museum a month ago, but rumour has it that the seller wants it back for whatever reason," Draco commented, pausing to take a sip from his glass of orange juice. "The price he asked from the Museum was a total rip-off, though." He continued to chew on his croissant and then moved onto the pancakes.

"You seemed to know a lot about high-class things for the job you're doing."

Draco looked up from his food and found Harry looking at him curiously. Oh. He'd almost forgotten the role he had adopted last night because of this lovely breakfast.

"Hmm. I'm interested in many things. These pancakes are great. You mind if I take them all?"

"No. Go ahead."

Draco nodded, resumed eating and silence followed. Draco was enjoying his second orange juice - they were sweeter than the pumpkin juices he was used to, but not bad - when Harry decided to speak again.

"Why did you say that the price the seller wanted was a rip-off?"

If it was not for his upbringing, Draco would have snorted juice out through his nose. He suppressed the reflex and swallowed the liquid carefully down his throat before he put the glass down and looked at Harry. Draco grabbed the napkin next to him and wiped at his mouth.

"Sorry? Oh. The price? Of course it's a rip-off." He poured himself another glass before he continued on. "I mean, all right, yes, that vase is an ancient European artefact, but it's not that ancient. It belonged to a French Duke in the fourteenth century and after the Duke had died it got dug out of his grave and has been passed around Europe ever since." He pointed to the picture of that vase in the newspaper. "The price that last owner demanded, I could get an artefact from the time of ancient Rome!"

There was silence while Draco went back to pop a strawberry into his mouth and Harry was looking back and forth between him and the newspaper. Draco allowed this to go on for another full minute before he looked up again, scowling slightly, and asked: "What?"

Harry watched him for a moment longer and then folded the newspaper up and placed it beside him at the corner of the table. "I'm buying this vase."

This time Draco couldn't possibly control his reflexes and he sprayed his mouthful of orange juice across the table inelegantly. Harry hurriedly pulled some tissues out and handed the bunch to him.

"Thanks," Draco choked as he accepted the wipes. He cleaned himself up before remembering what had caused him to react so violently and certainly very un-Malfoy-ish. He gave Harry a glare as he asked, "What do you mean you're buying it?"

Harry seemed to hesitate for a bit at his question; he poured himself a glass of juice as well and, as if an idea had struck him all of a sudden, he took a sip and leaned back against the back of his chair. "You're right about me working for the government," he said. Draco wasn't surprised. He was always fairly confident at judging people - their professions and general demeanour. "We are looking into people who are earning large amounts of money through artefacts that were claimed at unlikely high prices. And this seller is one of our suspects. I'm pretending to buy this vase in order to lure him out and have the receipt as the actual evidence of crime, and then we can ask for a warrant and have this guy arrested and close the case."

"Oooh, a police officer." Draco raised his eyebrows at Harry. "And as a person of authority, what would people think if they knew that a police officer had gone into a hotel with a male prostitute?"

Harry smirked back at him, and Draco's brows rose up to his hairline. That look definitely didn't suit him. At all. "Well, you see, that's why I now have a proposition for you," Harry told Draco.

Draco mock-gasped. "A proposition? Really? And here I was giving my all last night trying to get you into bed. If I had known it would be this easy I would have --"

"I would like to hire you as my consultant on my project," Harry cut him off.

Draco stopped mid-sentence and stared at the other man incredulously, orange juice forgotten, held frozen in his hand. "Did I hear you right?" he asked.

Harry smiled; he took Draco's orange juice and put it down onto the table for him. "If you heard me say that I'm hiring you as a consultant, then you heard right."

Draco was still frowning while Harry continued to smile at him. Then, just to clear things up, Draco asked, "You want me to be your consultant?" Harry nodded. "Why?"

"Because it is evident that you're more familiar with ancient stuff than me. So just to be certain that I won't be heading in the wrong direction and wasting time on the project, I thought you could help me out for the time being." Harry paused for a moment, then added: "And you could be my date and accompany me to all those tiresome galas and parties I need to attend for this."

Draco was speechless. This man's train of thoughts was too fast for him to follow. He wasn’t sure if he should call this luck or misfortune, though he still considered the offer. He was bored anyway, so it wouldn’t hurt to have something to do and have fun all at the same time, right? But of course when it came to negotiating a deal Draco wouldn’t allow himself to be the one not having the advantage.

"How long will this go on? And what do I get for doing this?"

Harry smiled again and spread his hands. "I only need you for the duration of six days while I'm staying in town. And you can name your price."

“Six days? You mean like twenty-four-hour-seven for six days?” At Harry’s nod, Draco hummed thoughtfully while he searched for a ridiculous yet probably reasonable - to Harry, of course, judging from the way he reacted to his demands concerning payment last night - figure. “Five thousand.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure are unscrupulous.”

He didn’t disagree, so Draco took it as a good sign and shrugged. “I like the number five.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. Then he looked at Draco, his green eyes so bright that Draco wanted to scowl at him. “You’re very interesting. I like you. I think it would be fun spending the next six days with you.” He picked up his orange juice and raised it at Draco in a toast. “I think we have ourselves a deal.”

Either he’s ridiculously rich, or he’s mental. No one spends large amounts of money without even batting an eyelid, thought Draco as he took his own glass and drank it down, but only because he was coincidentally thirsty. No wonder he knows nothing about serious rip-offs.

Then Harry stood up and picked up his coat that was hanging on the back of the chair, and Draco looked up at him in reflex.

“I’m heading off to work,” Harry explained. Then he took out a gold card and put it down on the table in front of Draco. Draco glanced down at it and, having no idea what that was, he looked back up again expectantly. “I’m having dinner tonight with this seller, and you’re to accompany me to it,” the man explained, and then he considered Draco for a moment. “I’m suspecting that you don’t have a large wardrobe.” Draco had to stifle a snort at this - his wardrobe was rather huge, actually. But Harry didn’t need to know that. “Let alone appropriate attire for tonight’s dinner. Go shop around for them today, the spendings go on this card. I’ll meet you back at the hotel at five sharp in the bar.”

Draco blinked. Okay, so this man was leaving him in charge of his accounts and had practically just told him to spend as much as he liked. The problem was, he didn't know how he was supposed to pay with a thin card, even if it was a gold one.

“I don't know how to use this card.”

He watched as Harry paused; he probably hadn’t expected his statement, but seemed to come to an understanding in the end because his expression went all ‘oh’. Harry picked up the card and handed it to Draco, who accepted it, and he said: “Sorry. I forgot that you guys probably never use credit cards.” Draco had no idea what he was talking about, but knew it was probably a Muggle thing, so he just nodded. “Just give it to the salesperson when you're paying. They'll know what to do with it.”

Draco studied the card in his hand, flipped it around and looked at it from every angle, as though he was trying to figure out where they could possibly hide the money within it. When he couldn’t find anything, he looked up and asked, bluntly, too, “How much is my budget?”

Harry laughed. “To be honest, I don’t know either. It’s the budget taken straight from the Mini- government’s account. It won’t be approved if it ran out of its fund limits. So I guess you could try and see if you can drain it out, eh?”

Draco’s eyes widened. Then he smirked. Slipping the card into the inside of his bathrobe through the collar, Draco gave it a little pat after withdrawing his hand. “Well then, I’ll see what I can do.” He stood up as well and came up to Harry and leaned towards him until his mouth was next to the other man’s ears, just like last night, again, before whispering: “Just to be certain, it’s five thousand pounds for the next six days, and five hundred for last night. Total of fifty-five hundred, yes?”

He felt Harry quiver from the hot breath he purposefully blew on his ear while talking, and he smiled at himself in satisfaction. He found Harry just as interesting as Harry found him. His reactions were so plain to see, as though he didn’t know how to conceal himself. And judging from the time Draco had spent with him last night, Harry seemed like he couldn’t understand the hints and flirting Draco was directing at him in very blunt ways. It would be fun to tease him just to draw an interesting reaction from him.

“That’s right. You’ll get your five hundred tonight after we come back from dinner. And the rest after these six days are over,” the man told him. Then he grabbed his suitcase. “I’ll see you tonight.” And he was gone.

Draco smiled watching him go, and waited until the door of the penthouse room was fully closed before he rushed into the bedroom and hopped onto the large bed. He stared at the ceiling; the smile had been by now replaced by his usual scowl. He glared at the chandelier of the room as though it had personally offended him somehow.

“You stupid! You were supposed to get out of here and be done with this moment of ridiculousness,” he told himself angrily. “Now look what you’ve got yourself into!”

He lay sprawled on the bed, mentally scolding himself. Then, tired of hearing his own voice chiding himself in the way that his father would do, Draco sighed and closed his eyes. Only to open them again after a two seconds gap. He took out the card from the inside of his bathrobe and considered it for a long moment.

The outcome may not have been what he had hoped, but at least he’d got the chance to shop all he wanted. On top of that, it wouldn’t even be his own money that he was spending.

Draco got off the bed and changed and was out of the hotel within the next half hour.

*

Shopping had always been Draco’s favourite exercise - if one could call that exercise. Not only because he could practically get anything and everything he wanted with the Malfoy fortune, but also because it satisfied his vain self in the most effective way possible. His friends always said that if he were an Animagus, he would take the form of one of the albino peacocks walking around in the garden of the Manor. But if you asked Draco, he’d say that being vain was just a trait of being a Malfoy.

Draco usually shopped for brand Wizarding attires, but he supposed that since he was in a Muggle area with Muggle cash, he would get himself some designer Muggle wear instead. He would get one outfit for tonight and use the time to see if he liked Muggle designers, and if the outcome was positive, then he would come back.

He came into the shopping district near the hotel and, since he didn’t have a definite destination for his shopping, he thought he would start with the first shop that he came to.

In the first ten minutes, Draco had already passed five shops, but he still hadn’t seen anything worth his attention yet. In his opinion, Muggle attires, designers or not, were just too low for his standards. Draco decided that he might as well go back to Wizarding London to Diagon Alley, order a made-to-fit suit from Madam Malkins, and have it sent to him before the arranged dinner time. Then a dark grey suit on the model in the display window of the next shop caught his eyes.

The suit was a slate gray colour that Draco thought would highlight his eyes. The cut was form-fitting and that was what Draco always liked about his wardrobe. The trousers looked nice enough, probably not long enough for him but he could always have them adjusted or rely on a little bit of magic if necessary.

There was a black shirt to be worn under it, or at least that was what the model in the display window was dressed up with. The whole style looked reserved and calm and business-like, not just what an ordinary suit would have conveyed. Draco thought it was perfect for a night that was meant for business.

Draco found himself walking into the shop before he even realised what he was doing, and found himself in front of the counter asking the shop assistant about it.

“Hello.” The assistant looked up from behind the counter, and Draco smiled politely at him. “I would like to know how much that suit over there is?”

The man looked over to where he gestured, and then looked back at Draco and considered him for such a long moment that Draco was getting impatient. Not to mention that the look the assistant gave him was clearly filled with disdain. Draco knew that what he was currently wearing really didn’t seem to be appropriate in a shop like this, but if he had got money to spend, then the shop assistant surely would have to treat him like a king.

He endured the gaze for one more minute before he couldn’t possibly stand it anymore and, holding on to the last bit of control he had on his temper, he asked again. “How much is the suit over there in the display window?”

The assistant’s eyes moved up to his face and Draco tried not to sneer at him, but what the man said after that was enough to set him on angry fire.

“I’m sorry, sir. That suit is not for sale.”

Draco snorted. “Really? Well, if it’s not for sale, why would it be in the display?”

“I’m sorry, sir. But my answer won’t change; that suit is not for sale.”

“You listen here.” Draco leaned in closer on the counter and regarded the clerk coldly. “I’m here to spend my money, and I do have money to spend. I asked how much it costs. And if I’m saying I’m buying it, then I am buying it.” He jammed his finger down on the counter with every word he said.

But it seemed that the clerk remain indifferent and was as stubborn as Draco himself. The young man dropped the notebook he was working on onto the counter with a purposefully loud thump and looked Draco squarely in the eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. That suit. Is. Not. For. Sale,” he said through gritted teeth.

Draco slammed his hand down onto the table hard enough that he felt his palm sting. “This is simply outrageous! Where is your manager? I want to see your manager!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but my manager is not in today. And you’re disturbing the other customers, so I would have to ask you to leave.” The clerk gestured towards the door. “Please leave, sir, or I’ll be forced to call security.”

Draco stormed out of the shop, muttering ‘filthy Muggles’ under his breath. In the end, he took a trip back to Diagon Alley and asked Madam Malkins for a speedy creation of a Muggle suit, identical to the one he had been refused and with better materials chosen by himself, to be delivered to the Milestone’s reception by four o’clock.

He spent nearly the whole afternoon in Diagon Alley and only went back to the hotel when it was half past three to take a leisurely bath and prepare for the dinner date. The suit he had ordered arrived on time, delivered personally by the clerk working at Malkins, directly to the lobby reception. Draco took his time getting dressed and ready for the night, checking over himself and renewing the glamour on his hair as usual. He would have to excuse himself during dinner and visit the men’s room to reset it again, since glamours didn’t last for long. He fiddled with his attire, pulling on the sleeves and adjusting the collar until he was satisfied that he looked absolutely dashing. Draco went down to the bar, ordered himself a drink, and waited for Harry to show up.

*

Harry arrived back at the hotel just in time. It hadn’t been a very pleasant day for him. He had gone back to the Ministry today and had just finished discussing tonight’s meeting with one of the possible collectors, when Corner had cornered him just as Harry had got back to his office and was getting ready to leave. Corner had done nothing except glare daggers at him. Well, he had talked, but Harry hadn’t really been listening, so that hadn’t been talking, period. Corner had been doing almost everything he could to interfere with Harry’s investigations since this case had been assigned to them, but with Harry as the one in charge. Harry thought Corner’s intention was quite obvious, trying to gain the credit himself. Of course, Harry didn’t see him as a threat at all, since he knew perfectly well that Corner wouldn’t be able to do anything that was disruptive to his work, so he had let Corner do his monologue.

Harry walked into the hotel lobby as he glanced at his watch for the time. It was two minutes to five pm. He walked towards the direction of the hotel bar and was directed by a man who introduced himself as the hotel manager to where Draco was sitting waiting for him.

“Mr. McFloy’s suit was delivered to the reception this afternoon,” the man told him as he led Harry to Draco. “And for security reasons I intercepted the delivery, and in between delivering the suit to Mr. McFloy personally as well as having the chance to talk to him, I was informed of your plans for tonight. I took the liberty of arranging your transportation for the night. Mr. McFloy was a delight to meet and serve.” The man bowed slightly to Harry when they arrived in the bar area. “I hope you have a good evening, sir.”

Harry nodded to the man and thanked him absently while his eyes searched for Draco. After a few minutes he spotted the blond head, prominent among the dark heads most of the other guests had. He smiled in spite of himself and walked towards the blond whose back was turned to him, the manager forgotten.

He was still staring when he came up beside Draco, and Draco waited for him to speak up, but when it seemed that that would not be the case, Draco took the initiative into his own hands.


“Hey,” he greeted, getting off the high stool and standing.

Harry came back to himself the instant he heard Draco’s voice. “Hey, there,” he returned. Then he paused, and added: “You look wonderful.”

“Thanks, you’re not bad yourself,” Draco replied. Harry adjusted his tie with his hands subconsciously at the comment. Draco’s gaze dropped to his tie and followed his motion, and then he frowned at it. Reaching out, he said, “That doesn’t look right. Here, let me.”

Harry stood there and let Draco fix his tie while he watched him; Harry found the little crease between Draco’s brows when he was concentrating was quite adorable. He was also sort of chewing on his bottom lip while he focussed on fixing Harry’s tie, and Harry found himself barely able to refrain from smiling, so he didn’t. When Draco was finished and looked up, that was how he found Harry looking.

“There, that’s better.” He patted the knot and smoothed it down before he let go completely. “Why are you smiling like a buffoon?” Draco turned his frown up at Harry.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing.” He looked down at the tie himself. “Not bad. Where did you learn to do that?”

“Oh, you know, men.” Harry raised an eyebrow at that, and Draco conceded: “My father. My parents always emphasised how important good manners were for making a good impression on others and insisted on me having etiquette lessons ever since I was five.” He paused, and redirected the subject. “It looks like we’re both ready to go. Shall we?”

Harry stared at him curiously. “You really intrigue me, Draco.”

Draco smirked at him. “Really? A lot of people used to say that to me.” He raised his hand and tapped a finger against his lips, as if considering something. Then he turned back to him. “Maybe if you’re good I’ll let you know all my secrets. But just to make you feel better, I find you interesting as well.”

“I look forward to it. And thank you.”

“Great. Now shall we get going?”

“Let’s.”

The dinner was a boring affair. Harry had never grown used to this kind of occasion, no matter how long he had been working at the Ministry, and one would have thought that he’d be influenced well enough by what he had heard and seen going on there. But knowing about it didn’t equal liking it. And thus, after the four people present had introduced each other and exchanged brief greetings, it had been more than ten minutes since they had sat down and ordered, and still not a word on the purpose of this dinner meeting had been uttered.

Harry was having a hard time trying to find a starting point and cut into business here, and Draco had excused himself to the men’s room when they had all settled down, and now Harry was struggling to find an opening. He’d thought that Windler, the seller, would start their conversation and then they could get on to business while pretending to have a pleasant meal with each other. But until now all that Windler - and his grandson, whom the old man had brought with him - had done was looking at Harry critically, as if he was calculating on some kind of scheme to use and go against Harry. Harry braced himself mentally and picked up the napkin to wipe at his mouth before he launched into battle.

But before he could open his mouth and say what he had contemplated for the duration of their silence, Windler Sr. decided that it was time he start the talk - or he had just simply been waiting for the sign that Harry would begin and took that moment to start his speech instead, so that he got to say the first word.

“Harry,” the elderly man began, and Harry refrained from rolling his eyes at the sound of his first name being called. He was certain the old man used his first name only to pretend that they were close, and to lessen Harry’s guard around him, then make an offer that was beyond ridiculous. Too bad Harry was a trained and experienced Auror whose state of mind was stronger than almost anyone else’s alive. He wasn’t the Vanquisher of the Dark Lord for nothing, and he sure wasn’t easily manipulated.

“Harry,” the man said again, and he waited until Harry looked at him before he continued. “Son, we’ve talked about this over the phone. And I must say that I’m still feeling wary about the price that we’ve settled on.”

Harry nodded, leaning back and nodding to the waiter standing beside him and pouring him a tumbler of water. He waited until the waiter moved on to Draco who had come back from the men’s and now settled next to him before he turned his attention back to Windler Sr. and said: “Mr. Windler, that is exactly what I would like to discuss in detail tonight. We’d already agreed upon the price of this transaction, I would like to know what made you change your mind and decide that the price we’d negotiated was not enough.” He took a sip of his water, folded his hands on the table in front of him and waited.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Windler had chosen not to answer him, instead focusing on the entrée that had just been served.

From the corner of his eyes, Harry could see that Draco was quietly consuming his entrée and watching them as the conversation continued. Harry shifted his gaze and noticed that the Windler’s young grandson was staring at Draco with a sort of love-struck look in his eyes. Harry didn’t know if Draco noticed it too, and he didn’t know why he suddenly felt offended by that look. He ducked his head and forked a bite from his smoked salmon salad and put it into his mouth, chewing slowly and thoughtfully as he glanced around the table.

Harry had decided that maybe he should try again and ask in a different way this time when he saw Draco sit back. His companion was dabbing his mouth with the napkin delicately – which made Harry think that if he didn't know where Draco was coming from, he'd certainly be fooled and believe that he'd had etiquette lessons as a child. Then he remembered that Draco had told him precisely that - and it made perfect sense. Hell, Draco’s table manners were even better than his. Then Draco smiled at the Windlers, and this time Harry saw the unmistakable flush that rose into young Windler’s cheeks, and he frowned in spite of himself. But then Draco started to speak.

“Hello, Mr. Windler,” Draco addressed the elderly man and nodded at the young one briefly in acknowledgement, which caused the man to flush even brighter. Harry was sure that was not because of the dim light shone onto their table, and the longer he was sitting here, the more he was becoming annoyed by the fact that young Windler couldn’t keep his eyes off of Draco. Then his attention was brought back to Draco as he realised that the blond had been speaking for a while now.

“I’ve an interest in collecting and researching antiques myself as well, so I dare say that I know quite a few things about them, and Harry invited me to come along as his consultant in this area,” Draco was saying. Harry turned towards him and saw that all the occupants of the table had their attention fixed on Draco. “I would not question why you had set the price so high that it is clearly overboard; it is not my place to do so. But I do wonder, as Harry just asked, why are you not happy with the price that you’ve settled with Harry? Why now?”

Windler regarded Draco for a moment, and then his gaze flicked to Harry. Harry met him squarely. He would not allow anyone to intimidate him, no matter the circumstances. Especially not in a situation where he had to be the victor. He watched as Windler turned to Draco again before he addressed them both.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “Harry. I’m very sorry to say this, but I’m left with no choice,” Windler said ruefully, and Harry had a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. The next moment, Windler only proved him right. “I’m terminating our business, because someone else has contacted me and offered me a better bargain and a higher price. Of course I’ll take the offer, and I’m sure you will understand, son.” He looked at Harry pointedly, and Harry had to bite his tongue to stop himself from responding negatively.

“Who is he?” If he knew the person who offered to buy the vase from Windler at a price higher than his, it would just mean that he needed to change the person they were targeting.

Windler shook his head. “Sorry, son, but this is confidential.” Harry frowned. Windler took a drink from his tumbler and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I will reconsider our transaction if you’d agree to move the price up by two figures.”

Harry almost couldn’t contain himself and gaped, but he managed to hold it back. He tried to smile politely at Windler, who Harry reckoned was smirking at him now, and chose to keep silence. Windler nodded after a moment, as though he had expected Harry would react like this.

“Excuse me, Harry, I would very much love to finish this dinner with you, but unfortunately I have other plans this evening. We will have to take an early leave.” He stood up and motioned his grandson to do the same, although the young man seemed reluctant. “It was nice meeting you, Draco,” he said to Draco, and Draco stood up and shook hands with him and then did the same to his grandson. Windler then turned to Harry once again and nodded at him as a farewell gesture. “Contact me if you reconsider, Harry. The vase will be no longer mine three days from now. Have a nice evening, gentlemen.” And he left without turning back, though his grandson seemed to linger for a while longer, but Harry was too tired to care now.

Harry stared at his plate, still more than half full, his appetite lost. He was so consumed with his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the worrying looks Draco was giving him.

*

They had returned to the penthouse and were now sitting on the balcony. Draco actually was sitting on the balcony while Harry sat in the only chair there, head tilted back and eyes closed. Draco knew he was recalling the exchange during dinner tonight, and he understood perfectly well how unpleasant the Windlers had been.

But they had been here ever since they had came back from dinner and that had been Merlin-knew-how-long ago. Harry hadn’t said a word, and Draco was beginning to worry. When another minute passed and Harry still had not moved a muscle, Draco decided that he’d had enough.

“You know, it’s only the first face-to-face encounter you’ve had with them, are you giving up this soon already? I thought you were determined. That having the people involved arrested was your ultimate goal.”

Even though Harry was just sitting there, Draco still could see that he had tensed when he had heard his words. Good. That meant he was still willing to listen, and right now Draco only wanted to get him out of this brooding mood and suffocating tension.

Harry opened his eyes and rolled his head back to look at Draco.

Those green eyes that had been so bright only this morning were now dulled and troubled, shadowed. Draco felt an ache at the sight of them. He felt like he wanted to soothe Harry, to bring that light back into them. Harry was still saying nothing. Draco sighed.

“Let’s get you to bed. Sleep, then worry about it tomorrow or some other time when you can think rationally.” He jumped down from the balcony and reached for Harry.

Harry shook his head, though, and closed his eyes again. “Can’t sleep now. Too much to think,” he murmured.

Draco reached again and grabbed his arm, pulled on it to haul him up, but Harry wasn’t having it. Draco rolled his eyes at his stubbornness and tried taunting him. “What did I just said about worrying about it later? Quit acting like a child, Harry. I know you’re feeling down, but I’m trying to help you here, you know.” He let go of the man’s arm, because since he wasn’t cooperating there was no use breaking his arm. He considered for a moment. “All right, listen,” he said again, and was glad that Harry actually looked up at him. “Since you can’t sleep, and you’re making me not be able to sleep as well, how about we go down to the piano room, and I’ll let you brood while I play the piano? At least then I would have something to do and won’t have to watch you being an idiot.”

Harry stared at him for a moment and Draco stared right back. What he had said was the truth. He was worried, yes, but he was also very bored. As well as equally frustrated as Harry must feel. And he knew that if he didn’t do something to relieve this frustration, he was probably going to jump off the balcony any second now if this had to go on any longer. So he had suggested the only thing he could think of.

Luckily, Harry agreed, nodding slowly after a long pause. He did it reluctantly, but the point was that Harry had agreed. So this time Draco grabbed him and had no trouble pulling him up from the chair, and they were heading down towards the piano room in the next instant.

Once down in the room, Draco noted that there were a few people still here, despite it being close to midnight. It wouldn’t do to have strangers about when there was still a chance that Harry would want to discuss the evening, so Draco asked as politely as he could for the occupants to leave them alone. When it was only him and Harry left, he pulled the man towards the piano, where the only light in the room shone upon it.

Draco sat down on the long stool first and then pulled Harry down next to him. Harry sat there and just turned to stare at him and kept on staring. Draco sighed to himself and shook his head, lifted the keyboard cover and started playing without saying anything further. He had already said what he wanted to say and could really say. It was now up to Harry if he chose to talk it out or not.

Draco chose a soothing melody, in the hopes of soothing his own frustrations as well as Harry’s troubles. He was also hoping that the tune would lure Harry into breaking his silence on the matter, so he could reassure him more; though he didn’t know why he wanted to do that.

Eventually Draco got drowned in the melody himself, having not touched a piano for so long. And when Harry actually started talking, he was surprised to hear the sound of his voice. Draco didn’t stop playing, but hit the notes with a softer touch as he left the music to his hands and his ears to Harry’s talk.

“I didn’t foresee that he was going to turn the tables,” Harry was saying. “We talked over the phone about the price and all the other things before we set up this meeting, and this meeting was only to serve as a face-to-face talk to seal the deal. I was supposed to get that vase tonight.” Harry ground his teeth together and punched down onto the leather cover of the stool on the spot next to his thigh.

Draco didn’t respond until he hit the last note, and he closed the keyboard cover before he twisted around to look at Harry, who was staring, blankly, from what Draco could see, at the harp cover of the grand piano. Draco reached over and covered Harry’s hand, which rested against his thigh, with his and squeezed it lightly to get Harry’s attention. When Harry turned to him, he tried to smile encouragingly. Keeping his hand still touching Harry’s, Draco tried to reassure him with words, too.

“He was already ripping you off with the price you agreed to over the ph-on.” Draco pronounced the last word carefully but subtly slow enough that Harry wouldn’t notice his hesitation. He was always wary when he’d have to say the names of Muggle inventions. “So he ate his own words, and the new price he gave you was without a doubt even more beyond consideration. If I hadn’t known what you were doing, I would have called you an idiot to let him best you.” He gave Harry’s hand one last reassuring squeeze before he let go. “And besides, I’ll help you. Isn’t that why you hired me to be your consultant?”

Harry was gazing at him with such intensity that Draco leaned back a little in retreat in spite of himself, but he met Harry’s eyes full on and admired the unnatural green of them while Harry kept silent. Draco was so lost in those forest green eyes that when he came back to himself, it was to feel Harry’s hand warm against his cheek. And then he heard him breathe, “You’re right.”, and he realised that Harry was tilting his head towards him.

Just before Harry’s lips were about to touch his, Draco turned away abruptly and ducked his head to bury it in the crook where Harry’s neck met his shoulder, and his hand reached up and covered the one holding his face. He kissed along the line of Harry’s neck and up across his jaw, ending at the pulse point under his earlobe. He bit on that part of flesh, softly grinding his teeth against it, but still hard enough to make Harry shiver at the sting, which Draco felt from the slight twitch of the hand on his cheek.

Then he withdrew and looked into those eyes again. Somehow, he was breathing hard, and Harry was panting too. Draco slid his hand down and grabbed Harry’s wrist, feeling his pulse beating under his skin.

This time it was Harry who nuzzled at his neck, and suddenly Draco felt a strong arm curl around his waist and hoist him up. He gave a slight squeak at the sudden loss of gravity and when he came back to his senses and reached out to push against Harry, he found himself being settled on top of the piano.

And then the only thing left in him was the sense of Harry’s warm and callused hand rough against his delicate skin, sending waves and waves of shivers and lust through him.

Harry’s hand snaked under his bathrobe and caressed from his thighs, over his calf, and then rounded up again to his thighs, brushing just slightly on the insides of them and over his arousal. Draco mewled at the touch. Harry’s face was still buried in his neck, and his hands roamed over his stomach and below, and for a minute there Draco thought - and anticipated - that he was about to be fucked on a fucking piano.

Sometime in between being breathless and dazzled, Draco realised the waistband of his bathrobe was unfastened when he felt cold air brushing against his pelvis. Harry’s hands moved all over his exposed lower body, and Draco’s cock was stiff against the fabric of his underpants.

“Harry...” Draco breathed the man’s name as he felt how he started to drop wet kisses down onto his abdomen, making his stomach flutter inside and out. And then the damp hand trailed lower and lower until he felt Harry planting a kiss on his erection through the layer of his pants, and his breath was caught in his throat.

Harry began to nuzzle his nose against the shape of Draco’s shaft, inhaling his scent. The scent of arousal and sex. Draco couldn’t breathe. He might be a virgin, but he had at least experienced a few handjobs and blowjobs during school, at both ends, giving and receiving, enough that he was confident that he wouldn’t be acting like the virgin that he was at moments like these.

Apparently he thought wrong.

Or maybe it was because this thing that Harry was doing to him was nothing he had ever experienced, and somehow it was incomparable to anything that Draco could think of at the moment, Draco was left with only the strength to pant breathlessly as anticipation grew and his heart went a mile a minute.

And then the kisses paused, and Draco squirmed from the sudden loss of dampness and sweetness he was just getting used to and tilted his head as much as he could to look down at the dark head that had been practically buried in his groin a moment ago, now hovering above the area, and Draco noticed that the glasses Harry wore had gone missing sometime during his daze, and those brilliant eyes glanced upwards and gazed at him. And Draco’s mouth suddenly felt dry.

Harry’s chin was inches above Draco’s clothed erection, his hands on either side of Draco’s hips, his index fingers tugged under the waistband of Draco’s pants in a gesture that showed he was ready to pull them down at any moment. Draco watched as Harry opened his mouth, the seconds stretched out as Draco tried to regain his breath, the movements in slow motions. And then he heard Harry’s voice, as though coming from a distance, clear yet intoxicating.

“Tell me, are you really a prostitute?”

Draco blinked, not expecting the question. He pulled himself to sit upright with his somewhat recovered strength, Harry’s eyes followed him, but his head stayed where it was. Draco stared at him, still panting slightly, and answered with a question of his own. “Would it matter now?”

Harry paused, his eyes trailed down from Draco’s face to his body and stopped at his erection briefly before moving back up again. Draco suspected that he was probably thinking it over. He found himself holding his breath for the answer.

“No,” said Harry, and Draco let out that breath. “But I just wanted to know.”

Draco let a slow smile creep across his face at that. Then he smirked, trailing his hand down Harry’s left arm, stopped and wrapped his fingers around his wrist again, just holding it there, on his hips. Then he leaned close, never breaking their eye contact, and whispered, deliberately huffing soft breaths against Harry’s face: “No.” Harry’s eyes widened only the slightest bit. “I’m your expert consultant in areas of antique artefacts, remember?” Draco chuckled.

Harry stared at him for a moment, which made Draco stop his chuckling promptly upon noticing his unresponsiveness, wondering if he had joked at the wrong time. Just when Draco was about to say something else, Harry let out his own chuckle, which soon bloomed into soft laughter. Draco followed suit as he relaxed.

They kept on laughing quietly to themselves for a while longer, although Draco was feeling wary, afraid that he’d unknowingly ruined the moment. And then Harry sobered all of a sudden, and Draco jumped, his mind once again unable to keep up with the man before him. He stopped laughing too and blinked bemusedly at him.

Harry smiled back at him, and crept closer so suddenly that Draco almost thought that this time he wouldn’t be able to stop Harry from kissing him on the mouth. But Harry only leaned close enough so that their noses were inches from touching, just like how Draco had leaned in close to Harry’s face a moment ago. Draco went cross-eyed at the unexpected closeness, and Harry whispered back at him, still smiling.

“Well then, that’s good,” Harry declared. “Because then you would know that what I am going to do to you wasn’t because I thought you were one.” And after that, before Draco had the time to fully comprehend what he meant and respond, he pushed Draco back down onto the piano and returned to his previous position, once again bringing his face close down into Draco’s groin. Only this time, he finally pulled Draco’s pants down as well.

In the span of those short seconds before Draco felt anything else, all of a sudden he thought he understood what Harry had meant, and a warmth that Draco had never known existed before now spread out in his chest and throughout his limbs.

All coherent thought fled him then.

Draco gasped involuntarily as his cock sprang out from its confinement and he nearly choked on his breath as he tried to gasp again on reflex when he felt Harry’s mouth descend on him.

His hands shot out to thread through the messy dark locks of Harry’s and clung to them as though his life depended on it the moment Harry gave a rather hard suck. Draco arched his back and threw his head back at the sensation - ecstasy, that was the name of it - as Harry settled on a steady rhythm.

Draco’s whole body was shivering from the mix of feelings flooding through his heart, his brain, his groin - everywhere. There was the hot and wet softness with the occasional touch of hard teeth around his cock. There was the warmth that was still spreading out as far as it could, filling the entire space within his chest. There was the dizziness he felt, as if his brain had melted into a puddle of useless goo.

Then Harry swiped his tongue over the slit, his hands fondling Draco’s balls, rolling them between his fingers, squeezing them every now and then, and Draco gave a violent jerk, his back arched up into the air so far above the piano that it almost looked as though he was floating in air. He stopped there, his whole body tensed into a stillness that probably would look frightening to any other person, and then he was coming, emptying himself hard into Harry’s mouth.

Draco’s world turned black.

*

Harry finished his morning routine and put on his suit for the day. He carried two cups of coffee into the bedroom and set them down on the bedside table before he sat himself on the edge of the bed, next to the lump under the covers.

The blond hair that was the only thing visible spread across the pillow; the sun shone on it, making it seem silver against the daylight, and Harry sat there quietly admiring the sight before he remembered the intention with which he’d come into the room and reached a hand out to shake the lump gently.

The lump squirmed in response to his disturbance, the blond head snuggled deeper into the blankets, hiding almost all the way out of sight, and remained still again.

Harry frowned and reached out again, this time to flip the blanket away from Draco, and the suddenness of being exposed to cool air made Draco yelp.

“Hey!” he cried, curling himself into a ball and trying to snatch the blanket back. When he couldn’t, as Harry was holding onto it and wouldn’t let him have it, Draco twisted his head around to scowl at him. “Why are you up so early? And disturbing me!” he accused.

Harry laughed softly and handed him one of the coffees. Draco sat up against the headboard reluctantly, his scowl still in place, his blond hair mussed, and he pulled the blanket up to his hips before accepting the cup.

Harry watched as Draco took a sip of the hot coffee before he defended himself against the accusation. “For your information, it’s not that early now, really. It’s already half past ten, and you’ve been sleeping long enough.”

In response, Draco only scowled harder.

Harry picked up his own cup of coffee and drank a mouthful, and then he turned back to Draco and asked: “I see you’ve picked out a rather nice attire for last night. Any luck in draining the government’s gold?”

What Harry hadn’t expected was for Draco to turn to him sharply and set the cup down on the table himself, then crawl towards Harry and stare him down. Harry looked back at him bemusedly.

“What?”

“You’ve just reminded me. I haven’t actually used any of that money. That suit was borrowed from one of my relatives, because I was rejected to be served by this shop assistant!” Draco exclaimed in Harry’s face. “Are rich people always such snobs?”

Harry’s confused expression turned stern, and he asked, his words curt and clear: “They refused to serve you?” Draco nodded and leaned back on the headboard, picked up his cup of coffee and sat there pouting. “Why did you only tell me now? That’s outrageous!” Harry stood up, his back turned towards Draco.

“Because you’ve got other more important things to worry about? And I’ve got my suit, anyway.”

“Of course you should have told me! Nobody should be treated like that, especially not my personal consultant,” Harry announced, and Draco grinned at Harry’s use of title in spite of himself. Then Harry reached out and grabbed Draco’s arm, pulling him up. “Come on, let’s go shopping.” And he tugged on Draco’s arm again.

Draco blinked at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, now get up. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?! You really are mad.”

*

The next three hours or so went in a blur as Draco watched himself being dragged by Harry and pulled into a designer shop where they spent the entire time, picking out various suits and casual wear for him. The assistants there were all smiling faces and keen to help at their beck and call.

Draco was sitting in one of the cushioned armchairs in the store, the pile of suits, shirts, trousers and shoes all stacked up neatly in a row next to his seat. Harry was standing on the other side of his chair, talking to the manager about his measurements or something while another clerk was putting the many pairs of new shoes onto his feet for him to try on.

To be honest, Draco felt thrilled. It had been so long since he could remember the last time he’d indulged himself to shop this freely, and not to mention that it was not even his own money that he was spending! He looked around while the clerks bustled about him, some were packaging the garments that he’d picked and some were hurrying to serve him with water and his other demands. The feeling of being served by others while he didn’t need to do anything himself was so familiar that Draco settled into relaxation almost immediately; he’d already forgotten he had called Harry mad just this morning.

“I will have one of those gray waistcoats there, too.” Draco pointed at the piece of clothing at the other end of the room that had caught his interest, and the manager, having kept an ear open for any demands Draco might have, turned and ordered the female clerk who stood the closest to him to fetch the waistcoat.

Having not found anything else that he found appealing, Draco turned back and looked down to the shoes the clerk kneeled before him was putting on for him, but he noticed the clerk’s tie instead and thought it was rather nice. He recalled last night when he and Harry had met in the bar when he had adjusted Harry’s tie for him, and thought that this tie would rather suit him.

“Hey, take that tie off,” he said, and the clerk started, looking up at Draco as though he didn’t understand what he wanted him to do, so Draco repeated again nicely: “Your tie. It’s nice, I like it. Take it off.”

The clerk looked uncertainly to his manager, and the manager paused for a brief moment before hurrying forwards to his staff, even as he whispered, “Well? Take it off!” And the clerk hastily took his tie off and handed to the manager and the manager then handed to Draco in turn.

Draco took the tie in his hands and called for Harry’s attention, telling him to come closer. When he did, Draco shoved the tie onto his neck, admiring the match and nodding in satisfaction when he found that he was right about the tie suiting Harry.

“What are you doing?” Harry chuckled in amusement.

“Buying you a nice tie.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “With my cash? Why, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And it’s not really your cash, is it?”

They spent roughly another hour in the shop before they left to go back. Draco wore that gray waistcoat, a matching pair of gray trousers and a pair of designer sunglasses, looking everything like a prince who had just walked out from his castle. They had told the manager to send the purchases over to the hotel, so they wouldn’t have to carry so many things. They chose to walk back to the hotel to enjoy the sunshine.

They were nearing the beginning of the shopping district, and Draco noticed that they were walking towards the set of shops that he’d gone through yesterday by himself. His eyes locked on the shop that had rejected him, and he smirked as he thought of an idea. He turned to Harry as they neared that shop.

“I’m going to go in and check at something, I’ll be right back.” And he left Harry without waiting for the man’s answer.

When he stepped into the shop, he was glad to find that the shop assistant standing behind the counter was the same one as the day before. He approached him, and the man looked up, smiling.

“Good day, sir. How can I help you?”

Draco smiled back, a fake smile, of course, and took off his sunglasses. “Remember me?” he asked.

The man looked confused for a minute and then his eyes widened in recognition. He opened his mouth, but seemed to be at a loss of words because there was no sound coming out of it.

Draco smirked at him. “Just came in to let you know that you’ve made a big mistake. Have a nice day.” And he turned and left in great satisfaction, leaving the man staring, shocked, at his retreating back.

The pair returned to the hotel and Harry left for work soon after.

*

Harry arrived at the Ministry just after lunch break. He didn’t have to come in today, but Corner had dropped him a message and told him to come over, having something about the vase case he’d like to discuss with him. Harry would rather have stayed at the hotel and try to come up with ways to make Windler go back to his previous agreement with Draco’s help, but any news on him was appreciated at the moment. So here he was.

Corner was already waiting for him in his office when Harry entered the room, and Corner turned to him with a crooked smile that instantly told Harry this was not anything pleasant. So he didn’t smile back.

“What is it?”

Corner kept on smiling in that uncomfortable way and stepped around the desk towards Harry. “I’ve got good news.” He stopped at the front of the desk and leaned back against it with his hips. “I met up with Windler this morning and I agreed with the old man that we would take his offer of the raised price. I don’t know what you did last night at your meeting to piss him off that much.” He spread his hands out in front of him. “Wasn’t this a very easy task?”

Harry, who had already mentally braced himself for whatever Corner might want to say, was too stunned to make a response quickly enough. There was a reason why he had refused to accept Windler’s unreasonable price. And it was a rightful one too. Not only because the Ministry had given them a limited budget they could go with on this case, he had also taken Draco’s advice into consideration and knew that the offer they’d agreed on was already a bad bargain. There was no way Harry would loosen up, and he was just on the way to finding a way to get Windler to accept his terms instead of the other way around.

And here Corner was telling him that he had just basically thrown all his persistence away.

Rage was slowly building inside Harry and filling his chest that he felt he might lash out any second now. He reigned his temper in and slowly ground out, “Who gave you the right to set up a meeting with him without my knowledge? And who gave you the right to make decisions without my consent?”

Corner’s smile was all teeth, flashing them shamelessly at Harry. “I thought you were being too gentle and hesitant, I was merely giving you a little push. This is the outcome that would leave both parties satisfied, isn’t that right? Windler gets his money and we get our target.”

“Did you, or did you not, know that I have a reason for not agreeing to their terms? That when this case was given to us, there was a limit on how much we were to be spending on this?”

Corner only shrugged. “We can always submit a request to Kingsley and ask for the Ministry to cooperate while we take him down. It’s not like we’re not getting the money back, you know.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “If that’s the case, then there was no need for the Ministry to give this instruction in the first place. And you still had no right to do what you’ve done.”

Corner shrugged again. “I considered myself doing you a favour, and it’s done. Windler has agreed. All we have to do now is just sign him the cheque, get the evidence, and arrest him for questioning.” He walked towards Harry again, this time stopping right in front of him, smirking at his face. “The rest is not my concern. Have a lovely day, Potter.” And then he left the room.

Harry stood there for long moments after that, and when he came back to himself, he slammed his fist onto the desk, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck.”

*

When Harry returned, Draco was waiting for him at the dining table. The room was dark except for the candlelight on the table, and Draco was sitting there in a seductive posture, naked, waiting for Harry.

When Harry came into the sitting room, shrugging off his blazer as he did, and noticed Draco’s state, he stopped dead in the mid of unbuttoning his cuffs. Draco smiled seductively at him.

“Welcome home, darling. How’s your day?”

Harry stared at him for a while longer, seemingly waiting for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing with his eyes. Draco put his legs down from the other chair and sat upright, noticing Harry’s slight frown that had been in between his brows since he’d come in and before he’d seen Draco.

And then Harry shook his head, looking over at Draco, and said: “Not too good, I’m afraid.”

Now Draco was the one frowning. He stood up and walked over to Harry, both of them already having forgotten about his nudity, Harry because of the unwelcome progress on the case, and Draco because the mood now was not what he had expected. “What happened?” Draco asked, coming up to stand next to Harry.

Harry resumed his undressing, unbuttoning his cuffs and then his shirt, and sighed. “Unexpected changes. My colleague took the liberty and met with Windler personally and agreed on what I emphasised I wouldn’t accept yesterday.”

“What?” Draco said, startled. “What an idiot.”

Harry smiled somewhat tiredly at him. And Draco sighed.

“Come on, let’s get you into the bath and I’ll give you a nice back rub. We will think of something to do about this later.”

Steam floated around the large bathroom, obscuring the bathtub at the centre of it. Draco sat in the tub with his back against it, and Harry sat within his arms, their legs entwined underwater, bubbles floating around them. And Harry relaxed eventually, leaning into Draco, his back against his chest.

Draco was massaging Harry’s shoulder blades, relieving the tight knots in his tense muscles. He trailed his hands down along Harry’s arms and up again, then moved to his chest, deliberately brushing his fingers over his nipples before moving to his back and rubbing away the tension there as well.

Draco dropped a kiss down onto Harry’s right shoulder to gain his attention. “So what are you planning to do now?” he asked.

Harry tilted his head forwards and sighed as Draco worked at a very tight spot on his back. After a slight pause, he answered. “To be honest, I have no idea. This is not something I had anticipated.”

Draco nodded in understanding, his hands still working now rubbing in circles on Harry’s lower back. He hummed thoughtfully, trying to search his mind and come up with something that could at least give Harry some ideas.

“Well,” he began, moving his hands around to Harry’s front and flattening his palms on Harry’s firm stomach. “How about this? Since this colleague of yours contacted Windler when he shouldn’t have and even went as far as agreeing to what you had refused, why not do the same? Contact Windler, I mean. Have the drop on him.” And then he paused, thinking over his words. “Well, maybe not, because that colleague of yours did that already. But you know, just be the one to set another set of terms, the terms that Windler couldn’t possibly refuse. This time be the one to turn the tables on him.”

Harry was nodding along as Draco explained his thoughts, and when he was done, Harry twisted his head around to face him. Draco met his eyes and realised that although he had always found Harry’s eyes mesmerising, now they seemed to be more magnificent than before. Draco found that his breath caught in his throat again.

“What?” he asked and cleared his throat subconsciously.

The corner of Harry’s lips went upwards. “I know I’ve asked already, but I just have to ask again. Are you really a prostitute?” His tone was light so Draco knew that he was joking at least slightly, with a tiny note of awe.

Draco laughed and gave him the same answer he’d told him only last night. “I’m your consultant, remember? And I just did my job by giving you advice.” His hands slipped downwards and into the soft pubic hair, tugging gently. Harry hummed in contentment.

“Hmm, yes, you’re doing a very good job.”

Draco chuckled and then sobered up, returning to their main topic. “So, are you going to take my advice?”

“Yes,” Harry replied, turning back around and putting his hand over Draco’s under the water, which was now dangerously close to his slowly awakening arousal. Entwining their fingers together, Harry continued. “I will contact Windler first thing tomorrow, and we will pay him a visit.”

“We?”

Harry turned around and planted a kiss onto Draco’s collarbone. “Yes, we.” He trailed soft kisses along to Draco’s shoulder and back onto his neck. After dropping a kiss on Draco’s Adam’s apple, Harry looked up and smiled. “After all, you said yourself that you are my expert consultant. I’ll need you there with me.”

Seeing that smile on Harry’s face made Draco suddenly feel soft and warm all over, that warmth which had only appeared yesterday came back again and spread itself out once more. Draco was both surprised and horrified that he had the urge to lean forward and kiss Harry on the mouth right then, but refrained from giving in to that urge with an effort. Instead, he matched Harry’s smile.

“Of course.”

*

Windler wasn’t happy when Harry contacted him, telling him that he’d thoroughly considered his offer and would like to meet him and finalise their agreement. But in the end he reluctantly agreed to meet up with Harry when Harry told him that he already knew that Corner had seen him.

Now he and Draco were sitting in Windler’s drawing room, escorted in by Windler’s butler. Windler Sr. was still nowhere to be seen. When finally someone came down the stairs, Harry and Draco looked up, but saw that it was only Windler’s grandson. Harry and Draco exchanged a look.

The pair stood up as the young Windler approached, and Harry greeted him with a curt nod, trying not show his disappointment and irritation at not seeing the person he’d come here for. “Good morning, Mr. Windler.”

The young heir nodded at Harry and then at Draco, who returned a nod of his own. Windler Jr. gestured for them all to sit back down, and after having sat down himself, he began, smiling apologetically at them.

“Please, call me William,” he said, his eyes flicking to Draco every now and then. Harry noticed and he frowned at it, but said nothing. William turned back to him again and explained: “Sorry, my grandfather was feeling unwell today so he couldn’t come down and meet you himself. I will be acting on his behalf and discuss the payment and delivery arrangements with you.”

Truthfully, the moment when Harry had seen that it was not Windler Sr. who came down to see them he’d already sort of expected that he would hear something like this. Of course Windler would avoid negotiating with him again since Corner had already sealed the deal with him, but this was Harry’s case and every outcome was his responsibility.

“William,” he began, exchanging another brief look with Draco before continuing, “I’m very sorry, but I need to discuss this with your grandfather. We’re sorry to hear that he’s not well and hope he will be all right soon. We’ll come back some other time then.” He thanked William and began to stand up.

William held out a hand hastily to stop Harry from leaving, and he stood up as well as he hurried to reassure Harry. “No, please, talk to me. I’ll pass our conversation on to grandfather and get him to contact you. I promise. Please. ”

Harry had been putting on a show of leaving the house and had been waiting for Windler Jr. to do what he’d just done. It was just like what Draco had said, have the drop on the Windlers. And he’d gained himself the chance to make the first move.

Harry sat back down and watched as William relaxed and told the butler to bring out tea. Harry waited until the old servant was out of sight before he launched into action.

“William, I’m not sure if you have been following the transaction I hoped to do with your grandfather?”

William nodded. “I have.” The butler came into the room with a tray carrying three cups of tea and William paused for a moment while the old man served the refreshments. Harry and Draco thanked the man and Harry looked back expectantly at William, urging him to continue. William took a sip of his tea and instead of meeting Harry’s eyes he looked towards Draco and smiled in a charming way. “This tea was brewed with the rose petals that were just picked this morning, try it.”

Draco blinked at the unexpected attention and looked bemusedly at Harry, who looked back at him when he found that William was addressing the blond instead of him, and raised an eyebrow, trying to use the look in his eyes to tell Draco to play along. It seemed like Draco got the message, because he turned back, picked up the cup and took a tentative sip.

William looked at Draco earnestly and expectantly, and Draco was taken aback to see that eager face when he put the tea down. “Er…” he stammered, “it’s lovely. Thank you.” And he offered a smile too.

William’s face lit up as though Draco had just handed him the world, and he stared at Draco until Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. Harry cleared his throat loudly and William finally snapped his attention back to Harry, though his face looked as though he had only realised there was someone else in the room just now.

Harry sent him a pointed glare, while Draco ducked his head and sat there quietly drinking his tea, the tea that Harry had no desire to touch now. Harry repeated his question again, in case dear Windler Jr. had forgotten already in the matter of minutes when it seemed that he only had eyes for Draco.

And of course Harry couldn’t have that.

“So, the transaction I came here to discuss with you grandfather?”

William looked startled for a moment and then quickly regained himself and inclined his head. “Oh yes. Someone named Corner came to see grandfather yesterday. I don’t know exactly what they talked about; they were in grandpa’s study for the whole morning. All I know is that grandpa told me the deal had been settled.” He looked up at Harry. “I thought that was someone you sent over?”

“No, he was not,” Harry said flatly. “So listen here, tell Mr. Windler Sr. that the deal he made yesterday morning is now off and –”

A warm hand touched his arm and Harry was cut off mid-sentence, and he turned his head to the side to see Draco looking back, and he was aware that William was watching them curiously.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Draco told him, softly. Then he squeezed his arm. “Let me talk to him,” Draco said, and he glanced at William.

Harry frowned. They hadn’t talked about this last night, and Harry had assumed that he would be the one to do the talking. And if Harry was honest to himself, he didn’t like the idea of Draco talking to William now, even if it was about business.

“You’re sure?” He had to ask, wanting to stop that thought from turning into reality.

Draco smiled. “Of course. I’m your expert consultant, remember?” Harry found that he had to smile at that, he couldn’t help it. “You wouldn’t have hired me if I wasn’t competent, right?” Harry looked doubtful. Draco squeezed his arm again. “And the important thing here is that we win this.”

Harry looked as though he wanted to argue some more, but Draco moved his hand from his arm to his wrist and held it there, his fingers light against the pulse point, and Harry fell silent, looking down at their joined hands.

“Just trust me.”

“Okay.”

And then Harry thought the smile Draco gave him then was worth this little sacrifice – letting Draco talk to William who was clearly smitten with him – but he would make sure that when they returned home, he would tell Draco how reluctant he had been to let Draco do just that.

*

There were two reasons that Draco decided to cut in. One was because he thought Harry’s use of tone was wrong, and Draco knew that he did that because he was already irritated that his colleague had acted on his own. Then Windler Sr.’s absence only irritated him more. It was obvious that William Windler was being used as means to send them away.

The second reason that Draco wanted to be the one talking was to use it as an advantage to get the grandson to agree to their terms. And the older Windler not being present made this all the more easier. Call it luck – although if you asked Draco, he would say it was because of his irresistible charm – that Windler’s grandson clearly liked Draco well enough, and Draco was glad he had come along.

He picked up his abandoned tea and took a little sip first, and sure enough, William smiled brightly at that. Draco set it down again and leaned forwards, his elbows resting against his knees. William mimicked him and leaned towards him as well, as though they were going to share some secret that Harry was not allowed to listen to.

“William.” Draco spoke the name gently, as though he was comforting a nervous child. “The person who came in yesterday and talked with your grandfather wasn’t someone sent by us. He was Harry’s rival, in fact, and was trying to interfere with the transaction your grandfather and Harry had agreed on.”

“So you’re here because…?”

“We’re here to tell Mr. Windler of the misunderstanding, and that although we could not agree to the offer he made that evening, we’re offering another antique in exchange for the price difference.” Draco explained. Of course, this had all been rehearsed last night, but Harry was too bad a liar to pull it off without William Windler noticing. Draco wasn’t worried that he’d be caught because he was good at it, and more so because William’s obvious attraction to him would allow him to get away with it.

“And that antique would be?”

“Another vase or a famous artwork. Anything, really,” Draco replied. He gestured to Harry. “Harry here has quite a collection, as your grandfather should know.”

William considered for a moment, during which Draco turned and gave Harry a wink, indicating that everything had gone according to their plan until now. Harry returned a weak smile, glancing at William from the corner of his eyes. William looked up again, his gaze falling on Draco again, and inclined his head.

“All right, I will tell grandfather,” he said.

Draco smiled a very lovely smile at William, and the young man’s expression turned dazed. Harry scowled beside Draco, but the blond did not notice. He was still smiling at William as he said, “Great. That’ll be all, then.” He rose to his feet. “We look forward to hearing from you,” Draco said as he extended his arm for a handshake.

William took it almost immediately, and Draco smiled at him one last time, shaking his hand firmly once before retreating. Harry followed suit, and Draco noticed that his grip on William’s hand was rather hard for a formal handshake.

He’d have to ask him when they got back to the hotel just what his problem was.

*

As soon as the door to the penthouse room was closed, Harry rounded on Draco.

“What were you thinking? Cutting in like that? And did you not see the looks William Windler kept throwing at you?” He nearly bellowed, only his rational thoughts kept his temper from lashing out.

Draco turned to him, frowning. “I thought we did well. And I haven’t even asked you what your problem was back there? That was not how we talked it through last night.” He turned to walk further into the room, poured himself a glass of champagne and sipped once before turning back again. “And I did notice how William looked at me, and I used it to our advantage. To get him to agree without too much fuss. So what’s your problem, exactly?”

Harry stalked up to Draco and stopped right in front of him, pinning him with an intense look that made Draco pause in the middle of taking a second sip.

“I didn’t like it.”

Draco looked up, confused. “What?”

“I didn’t like it,” Harry repeated.

“Didn’t like what?”

“You talking to him.”

Draco blinked, and blinked some more, and then again. He seemed stunned for a moment before he let out a chuckle. Setting his glass of champagne down on the wine counter, Draco cupped Harry’s face with both hands.

“Why, Harry, did I just smell some hint of jealousy?” he asked jokingly.

But Harry was very serious. He raised one of his hands and covered Draco’s hand on his face; his gaze was still as intense.

“I didn’t like it,” he repeated again.

Draco considered him for a while, looking at Harry’s face searchingly. Then, seeing that Harry didn’t falter even one bit but only stared right back at him, Draco sighed and dropped his hand. Harry dropped his own back to his side as well.

“All right. This was the only time I’ll ever talk to him anyway, so it won’t happen again. Are you okay now?”

Harry inclined his head after a brief pause, lost in his thoughts. Why was he feeling possessive of Draco? To the extent of not even being able to bear to see him just talking to another man?

An awkward silence followed as Harry remained still and Draco went back to drinking his champagne, and it went on like that for the rest of the afternoon, both not knowing what to say to the other.

*

That night, they lay side by side on the large bed, facing each other. They were naked under the covers, but they didn’t do anything exciting as neither of them was in the mood. Draco was wide awake and Harry lay with his eyes closed, trying in vain to fall asleep.

“You know, I’ve never shared a bed with someone else until I met you,” Draco broke the silence, his tone soft; he seemed think Harry had fallen asleep and that he now was talking to himself. “And my bed at home was bigger than this.”

Harry opened his eyes then, and Draco didn’t seem surprised at all. “Knew you weren’t sleeping,” he told Harry. “I can’t either. Just musing aloud, I suppose.”

Harry only continued to look at him, unblinking, and those eyes that Draco thought he would keep to himself if he could were calm and peaceful, so maybe closing your eyes and trying to sleep did help with your mood. Draco stared back, waiting to see if Harry would start talking.

“I’m sorry about earlier today,” was what Harry said when he opened his mouth.

Draco shook his head against the pillow it was lying on, his cheek brushing over the material of the pillowcase, and he unconsciously snuggled against it more. When he looked again, he saw Harry was smiling slightly, and he smiled back.

“It’s fine,” he said and boldly moved closer to Harry, absorbing the warmth of another human body. “You didn’t do anything harmful to me, so it’s okay. I just didn’t know why you behaved like you did, s’all.”

“I meant it too.”

“Meant what?”

“That I didn’t like you talking to Windler.”

Draco didn’t make a verbal response, but nodded and entangled their feet under the covers. He laid his head closer to Harry’s too, their faces mere inches from each other.

“Come to the Art Museum with me tomorrow afternoon,” Harry said all of a sudden.

Draco, who was already closing his eyes and letting sleep taking him over, opened them again and met Harry’s gaze. He smiled.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” he asked.

Harry shrugged. “I suppose I am.” He put his arm around Draco’s waist and pulled him closer.

Draco tucked himself into Harry’s arms and nuzzled his nose against the man’s neck before replying with a soft, “All right, then.”

Then they fell asleep like that, each with a smile stretched across his lips.

*

Harry went to the Ministry in a light mood the next morning, coming in to give Kingsley an update on the case and catch up with colleagues and friends in other departments. He was looking forwards to the date he would be taking Draco on; two tickets were already booked and sent to the hotel, and he would be picking them up along with Draco when he returned from work.

He’d had a quick lunch and sorted the paperwork for the day – he still hadn’t got any news from Windler so the case was on hold for the moment. After a quick cast of the Tempus charm he saw that it was now nearly three in the afternoon, and Harry decided it was time to go.

Harry had left the Auror department after reporting to Kingsley that he would take an early leave today, and had taken a lift to the Atrium where he was walking towards the Apparition point when a voice stopped him from behind.

“Leaving so soon, Potter?”

It was Corner, of course. Who else in the Ministry would make things difficult for Harry these days? Harry turned around and looked evenly at the man, who was sneering at him.

“Yes, Corner. I’m going on a date. See you later.” He waved a hand dismissively at Corner and turned back again, resuming his way.

“I want to know what you said to Windler again!” Corner called after him, but Harry had already walked out of the Ministry building.

Harry picked Draco up at the hotel; the blond was already waiting for him in the lobby when he arrived. Draco was wearing a nice form-hugging casual cashmere sweater and stylish-cut dark gray trousers, and Harry thought he looked stunning. The reception clerk presented them with their tickets and the pair went on their way.

Upon entering the museum, it was Harry who followed Draco around to works he wanted to see, letting him have his fun. It wasn’t like Harry knew much about art anyway, so he was content to just follow Draco and listen to him explain the story behind the artworks.

Draco stopped in front of a Victorian painting, as it said on the tag below it. He stared at it for a long time, longer than he did any of other ones where he had only stayed long enough to give Harry a brief explanation. This one, though, he’d been staring at for more than five minutes now and never said a word.

Harry walked up beside him and looked closely at the artwork, trying his best to work out what it was telling. It showed a man – a wealthy man, from the attire he wore – holding the hand of a scarcely dressed woman and bowing to her. Behind the woman was the background of some dark alley, and women in similar clothing – or the lack of clothing, for that matter – were lining it. Beside the wealthy man was a gold carriage. Harry thought the painting was easy enough to understand, a representation of two people from different backgrounds and class who had fallen in love, and at the thought of that Harry turned to watch Draco.

Could what he had been feeling these few days for Draco be something close to love? He knew he liked Draco very much. And if it was, would he be able to make Draco stay with him when their supposedly arranged time was up? He cast the thoughts aside for the moment to go back to them later, and turned back to the painting.

“You like this one?” he asked, for a lack of better things to say.

Draco started, glancing at Harry before ducking his head, low enough for Harry to not be able to see his face, and his fringe falling down to cover his eyes. There was a brief moment during which Harry was wondering whether he should ask if Draco was all right or not, but then Draco looked back up and his frown from when he had been looking at the painting before was gone, replaced by a smile that Harry thought was somewhat forced.

“No,” he said, turning away from the painting and walking towards the next one. “I just thought that that painting was not appropriate to be hung in a place such as an art museum.” He quickened his pace, and Harry was compelled to catch up with him. “Come on, let’s go see the next one.”

For the rest of the tour, Draco didn’t say anything else, no more explaining to Harry, even when he specifically asked for it. Harry just watched Draco the whole way, dwelling on his own tangled thoughts.

*

Evening found Draco and Harry in the corner of the drawing room in the penthouse, seated at a small coffee table, with a set of chess placed on it between them and two glasses of wine on either side of the board. It was now Harry’s move, and he was having a difficult time searching for a safe route to manoeuvre his knight, which was in the danger of being taken by both Draco’s castle and bishop.

They were back after leaving the museum and having dinner out, settling for a game of chess to relax. Harry was the one who had suggested it, hoping to dispel Draco’s seemingly low mood. It had worked. But what Harry hadn’t expected was to find Draco exceptionally good at it. And Draco revelled in his victory.

It had also been a long while ever since he had last played chess with anyone. Living alone didn’t really make that into an option for him. And although Muggle Chess was not as convenient as Wizard Chess, having to move the pieces by hand instead of commanding them to move on their own, Draco soon got into the game after beating Harry twice in a row in less than an hour, and watched in amusement as Harry struggled to find a way to escape losing for the third time.

Finally, he watched as Harry moved his trapped knight back to its original place, escaping the fate of it being taken down, but leaving the King unprotected by anything else, and Draco grinned in triumph as he moved his Queen two blocks forwards, diagonally checkmating the King. He watched in great amusement as Harry’s eyes widened as he realised the situation, and announced smugly, “Checkmate.”

Harry looked up at him and scowled unhappily, then leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms in front of him. “How can you be so bloody good at it?” he asked incredulously.

Draco shrugged; his grin only grew bigger as he sipped at his wine. “I was born with it,” he said unabashedly.

Harry rolled his eyes, picking up his glass as well.

As Harry was drinking his wine slowly, Draco sobered, and settling his glass down, he asked: “Still no news from Windler?”

Harry looked at him through the glass and his hand stilled at that. Then he sighed into the glass and set it down before putting his hands in front of him, clasped on his lap. “No, and until he does contact me, I can’t process anything else on the case.” He sighed again, raising his hand to rub his temples. “I wish he could hurry up, we’re running out of time.”

Draco nodded in understanding. Silence followed. Draco watched as Harry closed his eyes and was now rubbing the spot between his brows, looking more tired than any of the times Draco had seen him since he’d met him. He’d always thought of Harry as quite a workaholic, and one who didn’t know how to relax and enjoy life, one area that Draco was extremely good at.

And then he had an idea.

“Take a day off. Tomorrow.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at him, one eyebrow raised slightly. “You think?”

Draco inclined his head insistently and then leaned forwards, pressing his hands against the table surface. “Well, yes, of course. You’ve been working and worrying over this since even before I met you. And now you’re on hold because of external reasons, why not take the chance and give yourself a break?”

Harry hummed as he considered it. Then he looked back at Draco. “And if I take the day off, what should we do?”

Draco smiled. “That’s easy.” His smile turned into a smirk. “I’ll take you out on a date. How’s that?”

Harry only raised his brows in response.

*

On the date Draco said that he was to be the one taking Harry on, they had a picnic at The Regent’s Park in the morning first, enjoying the early sunshine and breeze while having a healthy and light breakfast. Then they took a walk around the park and basically talked about everything and anything that they felt free to speak with the other about. For a while it felt like they were really a couple, and Harry found himself wishing for that to be true almost desperately. It had been so long since he’d felt like a teenager enjoying quality time with his other half all over again.

Lunch was in a simple but quiet restaurant where the nicest and lovely dishes were served. Of course, the bill was on Harry, but he was happy to pay.

Being with Draco almost every hour of every day these last few days had made Harry become accustomed to spending time with Draco, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. If he hadn’t met Draco, Harry didn’t know what these few days would have been like for him; he would have probably been working himself to exhaustion and burdening himself with excessive pressure as usual. It was nice to have someone to talk to when you wanted a break and it was a very pleasant feeling to have someone looking after you and to be able to share your moments, whether troubled or joyous ones.

Time flew when you were working hard, and it was proven that it would do the same when you were relaxing, if it weren’t even faster. Harry found himself enjoying this day more than any other; he’d never found himself so relieved that he didn’t have to worry about work and cases for even one day. In fact, he was enjoying himself so much, even if he and Draco were only walking around town, avoiding the noisy part of the city, that when they finally returned back to the hotel he was exhausted but still wished the day could have lasted longer.

And the last thought before he drifted off into dreamland was that tomorrow, on the last day of their arrangement, he would make an offer to Draco to make him stay.

*

When Draco came out of the bathroom, ready to join Harry in bed, he found that the man had fallen asleep while waiting for him. Draco stopped in his tracks and stared at Harry’s sleeping form for a while before a reluctant smile crept on his face.

“And he sleeps, on the last night of our time together,” Draco murmured to himself.

And then his smiled dimmed as the idea of separation settled itself in his head, and he began to walk towards Harry as though his feet had a mind of their own.

He sat down at the edge of the bed next to Harry’s sleeping form and reached a hand out slowly. His palm touched Harry’s cheek and Draco smiled softly again, his thumb caressing across Harry’s cheek. The stubble dug into his soft skin and stung a little, but Draco felt at peace, his chest filled with that warm and fuzzy feeling, the one that would spread out in him whenever Harry did something he found endearing yet again.

It was only when warm lips touched his that Draco realised that he had leaned in and kissed Harry. He couldn’t help it. Despite his own rule of no kissing on the mouth, he had wanted to kiss Harry properly ever since – he’d forgotten exactly when, but it seemed that when he’d realised it, the urge to give in and kiss him had always been there already.

He knew he shouldn’t have taken it to a level where it’d get personal, because everything between them, from the day they’d met to this very last night they’d be spending in each other’s embrace, was based on a deception that he’d created. Draco had wanted to leave that second morning, and he didn’t know why he had stayed and how it had came to this.

He had fallen for this man who he’d only met a week ago, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

But Harry was a Muggle, and Muggles knew nothing about magic and wizards, so even if by any chance Harry returned Draco’s feelings, he wouldn’t want to be with Draco when Draco told him that his lover was a wizard. This deception would have to end. This whole thing would have to end.

As Draco was lost in his own thoughts, he was brought back out of his reverie when he felt those soft lips he was kissing moving against his, growing more insistent as he felt how Harry brought up his hands to cradle his face. And Draco felt like he wanted to cry due to both the happiness that he was not the only one feeling all these emotions, and the sadness at the fact that even if this was the case, they would never have a happy ending together.

Draco went willingly down onto the bed when Harry pushed them forwards and laid himself on top of Draco, their lips never separated from one another. Eventually, the kiss turned heated as tongues were brought into play. Draco trembled in spite of himself, and the sheer closeness and the scent of Harry, added to the desperate need and longing he felt for this one night, made him pull Harry closer.

Their arousals brushed against each other, and Draco gasped while Harry let out a moan. They did not break apart and took time to speak, but merely followed their mutual desire, learning about each other’s bodies with their hands and mouths. Draco’s robes were pulled off in these moments of passion and they finally broke apart reluctantly to let Harry pull his shirt over his head, only to dive back in again, devouring each other’s mouth like there was no tomorrow, which Draco couldn’t help but think that it might be literally true.

Harry began to trail his kisses along Draco’s jaw and down to his neck, stopping there to suck at his pulse point below his ear. Draco clung to him in an almost desperate way, gasping and moaning whenever Harry’s tongue travelled over his sensitive spots. One of Harry’s arms was wrapped tightly around Draco’s waist, the other caressed his sides gently, trailing along his torso down to cup his clothed erection, and Draco hissed sharply when Harry applied pressure on it.

Having never gone all the way with sex before, Draco was nervous as hell. But he gave his all and arched his body into Harry’s touches and kisses, enthusiastically while silently asking for more. Harry’s mouth travelled down to his navel and planted feathery kisses over the skin, and then he moved back up and a moment later Draco felt one of his nipples being trapped in a hot dampness, and he moaned appreciatively. His hands slid down across Harry’s muscled back, and dipped under the waistband of his boxers, squeezing those firm buttocks.

And then, suddenly, he was lifted into the air and whirled around in the blink of an eye and settled back onto Harry’s lap. Draco squeaked at the abrupt shift, but then Harry’s lips were promptly back on his, and he was lost again. He could only moan into Harry’s mouth as he sucked Draco’s tongue like it was his favourite lollipop.

The new position caused their cocks to create a delicious friction that made both of them moan simultaneously. Draco rubbed against Harry almost absentmindedly, seeking more intimate contact between them. He moaned helplessly as their hot lengths touched again and trembled in spite of himself. He grabbed at Harry’s back once again, only to find himself being lifted and tossed down onto the bed this time.

Draco felt Harry pulling at his briefs, and within a moment they were already down around his ankles. He wriggled them off of him and couldn’t help but gasp as he felt Harry’s cock pressing heavily against his; this time there was no more fabric serving as a barrier, it was skin to skin, and it felt wonderful.

Harry’s lips were now lingering on Draco’s collarbone; his hands had a mind of their own as they travelled down his sides and caressed the curves of his arse. Harry rocked his hips slowly and firmly against Draco’s groin, and it was a delicious torture mingled with pleasure. On one hand Draco wanted Harry to just get on with it, but on the other he wanted to savour this moment for as long as he could.

Draco felt Harry gripping his hips hard enough to crush him with one hand, and he opened his eyes when he felt warm skin prodding at his lips, urging him to open them. He did, and two of Harry’s fingers slipped into his mouth. Draco sucked at them out of instinct.

That went on for a few moments, while Harry was planting kisses across and over his body – shoulders, chest, stomach, everywhere. The hand that was holding him down by the hip moved downwards and slid onto and around his thigh, caressing the softness at his inner thighs and urging him to spread his legs. Draco did. He felt as though his soul had been hypnotised by Harry somehow and he would do anything that Harry told him to do. Draco felt Harry beginning to pull his fingers back and he parted his lips willingly to let the saliva-slicked fingers out. But he wanted those fingers that just left his mouth to be replaced by something else.

“Harry…” Draco called out, breathless. The hands that had been resting on Harry’s biceps moved and circled around the man’s neck again. “Kiss me.” He pulled the man closer, staring into his eyes and pouted his lips, sending out his request visually even as he spoke it.

Draco sighed happily into Harry’s mouth when the latter complied almost immediately, coming back up from where he was busy marking Draco across his chest. He returned the kiss eagerly, thrusting his tongue into Harry’s mouth when the other retreated, as though they were playing a game of chase with their tongues.

And then he froze as he felt a slick finger prodding at his entrance.

Harry let go of Draco’s lips and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose, and then moved over to his left cheek and kissed there, nuzzling his nose against it afterwards.

“Relax,” he said. The finger down at Draco’s rear prodded more insistently and Draco felt how the tip of it slipped into him. He inhaled sharply.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Harry murmured reassuringly, his lips brushing lightly across the soft skin of Draco’s cheek.

Feeling Harry treating him so gently and carefully as though Draco was a fragile doll made of glass made Draco relax, smiling to himself and feeling that now familiar warmth spreading across the inside of his chest again. He placed his hands on either side of Harry’s face and made him turn to face him, and then, looking into his eyes, Draco smiled at him.

“Yes,” he said and kissed him.

They kissed slowly and sensually, pouring out emotions and feelings they could not speak aloud for the moment through the action. And Harry’s finger dug deeper and deeper, to the extent that it made Draco felt as though Harry was touching his insides. Eventually, one finger became two, and two became three, Harry was scissoring in and out of Draco steadily, and suddenly Draco gasped , breaking their kiss, and arched his back off the bed and reached out a hand to grip Harry’s wrist, the one that belonged to the hand now inside of him.

“What – What was that?” He managed through heavy breaths when he came back down onto the bed.

Draco felt Harry’s fingers pressed teasingly on that spot that made him see stars again, making Draco squeeze hard on his wrist to stop him from further movements, before the man leaned down to kiss him again and finally gave the answer.

“That was your prostate, Draco. Surely you know that, right?”

And only then did Draco remember that he had met Harry through pretending to be a rent boy and that he had never corrected Harry that he really wasn’t one. Because he’d forgotten. Because this wasn’t what he had thought would happen in the first place. Because he had become more and more reluctant to tell Harry the truth the more he’d got to know him.

“Draco?”

Harry’s voice brought Draco back from his reverie and he met Harry’s gaze, full of concern and worry with a hint of uncertainty. His fingers within Draco had now ceased moving altogether. Draco smiled at Harry, he released the hold on Harry’s wrist and brought his hand up to stroke the back of his fingers against his cheek while his other hand threaded through Harry’s now even messier dark locks and then pulled him down before murmuring into his ears. “I, um...” He gasped involuntarily when his pulling Harry near had made those fingers shift a little, brushing against his prostate – as Harry had told him – with the slightest touch.

“I haven’t exactly done this before,” Draco confessed, bringing all of his honesty to the front. And Harry must have understood it, because his eyes grew wide before he hastily tried to retract himself from Draco. But Draco held him in place, both arms wrapping around his shoulders and back to keep Harry from moving away. “No, listen to me,” he said firmly. “I want you to do it. I want you to be my first.”

“Draco…” Harry relented promptly, slumping against Draco. Draco let out an ‘oofh’ from the impact as Harry murmured uncertainly, “Are you sure-”

“Yes, I am.” He emphasised his intention with a roll of his hips, and this time it was Harry who moaned out loud as his fingers, which had already been in the progress of pulling out when he’d wanted to move way, slid into the tight channel once again. “I mean it, and I’m ready.” He locked his eyes with Harry’s again and said, “Fuck me.”

There was nothing else Harry could do except complying. He carefully withdrew his fingers and positioned himself against Draco’s puckered entrance. Without ever breaking their eye contact, Harry reached out and intertwined their fingers, holding them next to Draco’s head, and, as slowly and gently as he could manage, Harry began to push.

Draco felt the head of Harry’s cock slowly breach his opening. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but it wasn’t such a bad experience either. It was uncomfortable, of course, having something thick filling you up, but it was not as painful as Draco had expected. Harry pushed all the way in until he was buried balls-deep inside of Draco and then stopped completely to let Draco adjust.

Draco inhaled deeply and tried to relax himself, his rear muscles constricting around Harry’s cock in spite of himself. And in the few moments while Draco was getting used to the feeling of having something up there, he noticed that beads of sweat were starting to form on Harry’s forehead and under his nose, and their connected hands were shaking slightly. Draco then realised that Harry was holding and controlling himself for him. He smiled to himself, and gave Harry’s hand a squeeze.

“I’m okay now. You can move.”

Harry didn’t spare time for a response as he dipped his head down and started kissing Draco all over again as he pulled out a little and then thrust back in. Draco let out a moan every time Harry managed to hit his prostate, and his free arm went to circle around Harry’s neck again.

They soon found a rhythm and they danced to it in complete harmony, as though they were long-time lovers who knew and understood about each other’s needs without the need to speak aloud. Draco’s hand – the other still intertwined with Harry’s fingers – shot out onto the bed and groped around for purchase. Harry’s hand was stroking Draco’s cock in sync with his thrusts and Draco felt himself coming closer and closer to climax.

One of Harry’s beads of sweat dropped onto Draco’s chest, and as it slid down his body, Draco began to tense up from his feet and upwards; his legs, which were wrapped around Harry’s hips, tightened their hold like a vice-grip, and he shuddered, his orgasm triggered so abruptly he let out a hoarse cry and came hard, shooting his load all over them while his cry continued on until he came down from the peak.

He felt Harry quickly thrust once, twice and three times more before he released himself inside of Draco, matching Draco’s cry with his own. And feeling something flowing into him was not just weird, but somehow it felt inexplicably satisfying as well. As Harry collapsed on top of him, Draco contented himself to wrapping his arms around Harry, hugging him close and never minding the stickiness between them.

As he was slowly drifting to sleep, Harry still inside of him, who was not bothering and probably had no energy left to care to pull himself out, Draco listened to Harry’s heavy huffs just beside his ear and smiled to himself.

At the last second before sleep claimed him, Draco thought he heard Harry say, “I think I’m falling in love with you, Draco.”

He closed his eyes tighter, letting sleep pull him under, and told himself that he would tell Harry everything tomorrow. About his feelings, his lies, and his true self.

*

The next morning at breakfast, Harry was thinking over and over again about how he could find a better way to express that he wanted Draco to stay and that he had thought about an arrangement that he thought Draco would appreciate and therefore agree to stay with him.

He didn’t know how exactly it had happened, but here he was, already fallen half-way for this mysterious man. Muggle or not, it didn’t matter. Harry had decided to tell Draco about the Wizarding World when the time arrived, and take him there for a few days once in a while, and he would come to the Muggle world to be with him for a period of time.

It all sounded perfect to Harry, but the problem was, he didn’t know how to open his mouth to ask. And already nearly half an hour had passed since breakfast had started, and Draco hadn’t said a single word, but was just quietly eating his pancakes.

Harry thought maybe he should just ask. After last night, he thought they had become closer and Harry thought he was sure that Draco very likely liked him back.

Having made his decision, Harry put down his newspaper and poured Draco some hot tea that he’d ordered this morning, since the weather had started cooling down as autumn approached, and he cleared his throat to gain Draco’s attention.

When Draco did look up at him after a brief pause, Harry was startled to see Draco’s eyes looking blankly back at him. He pushed the cup that he had poured for Draco forwards to the blond and gestured for him to take it. “Are you all right, Draco? You look a little pale.” Paler than usual was what Harry meant. His concern was overtaking his nervousness at not knowing how Draco would react to the arrangements that he’d decided.

Draco accepted the tea and took a sip, cradling the cup between his hands and shaking his head. “I’m okay. Just the weather change getting on to me, I suppose,” he said, and then turned back to Harry. “What were you going to say?”

Harry turned around more to face Draco properly, and reached out a hand to cover Draco’s, which he had put down onto the table when he had set down the teacup and which Harry discovered was not as warm as he’d liked. “I know this is the last day for you to stay with me according to what we agreed on when we met,” Harry began, and when he felt Draco tense a little through the hand he was touching, he squeezed lightly, even though he didn’t know what made him do that. “But I’d really like to see you again after this, Draco,” He said sincerely.

Draco’s face turned pensive and it looked as though he was refraining from grimacing against some sort of pain. A slight frown creased in between his brows and Harry thought he may have to explain further for Draco to understand. So he lifted Draco’s hand which he was holding, now cradling it between both of his own, and continued earnestly. “Draco, I enjoyed your company immensely these few days that I was with you and as I got to know you more, I found myself becoming attracted to you. Very much, in fact. And after last night, I thought you might like me back as well. I think…” Harry hesitated then, and it seemed that Draco was too stunned to show a reaction, as he stayed very still as Harry confessed, and Harry took a deep breath to steady himself, and went on, his eyes meeting Draco’s intently. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Draco.”

There was a pause, as though time had stopped as Harry admitted his developing feelings. Harry waited with baited breath, watching Draco’s face and movements, lest he miss anything.

But Draco remained as he was, if anything, he merely shook his head slightly and sighed to himself before looking back again and calling Harry’s name, but he didn’t continue anymore and tried to pry his hand away from Harry’s hold. But of course Harry didn’t let him, only tightening his grip.

“Harry…” Draco looked helplessly at him, and Harry leaned in closer, pulling Draco’s hand against his chest and holding it there.

“I have a flat in Surrey.” He didn’t, but that could be arranged later, the important thing now was to make Draco stay, or to at least consider the possibility. “I’d like to take you there, if you’ll agree, and settle you there and… Well, I probably would always have work to do, but I’d like to see you when I come home. Oh, I’m no good with this. What I wanted to ask is, Draco, would you consider staying with me? Like, being in a relationship with me, being my partner, boyfriend? ”

Draco regarded him searchingly and sadly for a moment before he looked down, and after it seemed as though he was having a conversation with himself, Draco looked up and sighed again.

“Harry, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said, his eyes suddenly so sad that Harry wanted to know nothing else and just to hold him in his arms, comforting him and making him forget whatever made him so miserable. But he restrained the urge, and listened, as Draco had requested. “I know you thought I’m a rent boy-”

“I don’t,” Harry cut him off, “and I already told you that, Draco. I never saw you as one. You’re more than that to me.” he hurried to reassure him.

Draco only shook his head and smiled ruefully at Harry. “It was my fault, Harry, for not telling you the truth sooner.” This time Harry was the one to furrow his brows, and he looked at Draco bemusedly. Draco took a deep breath. “Harry, I’m not a rent boy,” said Draco, and when Harry wanted to cut in yet again, Draco stopped him. “No, Harry, I want you to listen to what I have to say.” And he waited until Harry had nodded before he went on.

“Harry, I want you to know how glad I am to hear you say that you’re falling in love with me, because I think I’m on my way there too, falling in love with you. And that’s why I need to tell you the things I’m going to say as well, because you will need to know them. And I understand perfectly if you don’t want to have anything to do with me after you know about them, but regardless, I need to tell you.” Draco paused for a moment, Harry held on to the hand against his chest tighter when Draco tried to pull away again. He heard Draco sigh again. “Harry, my supposed occupation was not the only thing that I deceived you about. You see, I’m not from the world you grew up in, the world you’re used to, I’m a wi-”

Harry’s phone chose this moment to ring loudly, interrupting what Harry suspected Draco was about to say and causing him to lose the chance of affirming his suspicion. They stared at each other for a long while and the phone continued to ring. Harry was hoping against hope that whoever was calling him now would give up and try again sometime later, but that did not seem to be the case. He reluctantly released Draco’s hand that he had been holding all this time and picked up the phone, his eyes never moving away from Draco while Draco ducked his head.

“Hello?” he said into the phone.

*

Draco vaguely heard Harry answering the phone with mild replies of ‘Yes’ and ‘All right’ and ‘I see’. He was torn between feeling relieved about the interruption and angry at the person who’d chosen to ring Harry up right this moment. Relieved that he didn’t have to face Harry’s rejection after knowing his true identity right now and angry that he couldn’t finish his speech because of this stupid phone call.

But it turned out this wasn’t a stupid phone call. An exclamation of ‘What?!’ made Draco lift his head up only to see that Harry had jumped out of his chair and was hurrying over to the coat hanger to grab his coat, all the while letting out a string of excited exclamations.

“Are you serious? Excellent! Thank you!” he was saying, trying to put on his coat one-armedly. Draco stood and went to help him put the garment on. “I’ll be right there! Yes, yes. See you in a bit,” Harry said into the phone and turned to murmur a ‘thanks’ to Draco when he had ended the phone call.

Draco adjusted the collar and patted down Harry’s coat before standing back up and was greeted by Harry’s still grinning face. He smiled weakly back at him. “What was that about?” he asked, although he thought he knew rather precisely what that interruption had been about, if Harry’s grin was any indication.

He hadn’t expected for Harry to lunge forwards and hug him enthusiastically and gleefully.

“We did it, Draco! We did it!” He exclaimed happily close to his ear, and Draco grimaced at the volume. Harry didn’t seem to notice. “Windler agreed to our terms!” And then he kissed Draco’s cheek.

Draco blinked, and Harry pulled back, probably remembering what they had been discussing before Windler had contacted him. Draco felt happy for him, too, truly. But it was not his fault that he was standing in this room feeling overwhelmed by the notion that he was about to part with Harry.

“Great,” he said to Harry, meaning it, but maybe just not as enthusiastic as Harry would have expected.

Harry’s face turned serious, and he regarded Draco with a solemn gaze. Then he took Draco by his shoulders and held him there, staring into his eyes. Draco blinked under the intensity, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. He swallowed to rid himself of that dryness.

“Draco,” Harry began, “you may have believed that you’ve not been honest with me – and I appreciate that you decided to tell me after all, because that’s what counts – but I haven’t been completely truthful with you, either . I have things that I needed to tell you too,” he said earnestly, emphasising every word with a light shake on Draco’s shoulders.

“Unfortunately, right now I have to take a short leave, but I want you to promise me that whatever you’ve decided on doing after you’ve told me everything, don’t do it. Please wait until I get back, and after we’ve been truly truthful to each other we can go from there and you can make your decision. All right?”

Draco stared up at Harry, taking in the anxiety and pleading expression in those brilliant green eyes that he loved so much, and found himself nodding. “All right, I promise,” he whispered.

Harry gave him a grateful smile and leaned in to kiss Draco on his forehead. Draco shivered under the gentleness that Harry always displayed with him and wrapped his fingers around Harry’s biceps briefly before letting go again. He stepped back and smiled at him. “Well, what are you waiting for, then? Go and have it settled and hurry back.”

Harry nodded, giving Draco one last meaningful look before he was out of the room and the door shut behind him with a faint click.

Draco stared at the door for a while and then turned his gaze to his unfinished breakfast, suddenly feeling that he’d lost his appetite. Draco looked at the clock and saw it was just past nine. He supposed Harry wouldn’t be back as soon as they’d both hoped, probably noon at the earliest, so that’d mean he’d got nothing in particular to do for about three hours. Draco thought for a moment and decided that he might as well sleep the hours away.

He lay down on the bed and tried to get back to sleep, but it seemed that sleep was doing its best to elude him. He rolled about on the bed several times and stared at the ceiling for a while, looked about the room, sat up and tried to read for a moment and finally hugged Harry’s pillow close and tried to go back to sleep. It was all in vain, at least for some time. Draco didn’t know how long it took him, but eventually he did fall asleep, and by the time he woke again, it was to the sound of knocking coming from the outer room.

He checked the clock on the bedside table and found that it was now a quarter to noon. He supposed Harry would have the keys with him and enter by himself, but as he recalled this morning and how excited Harry had been, which had caused him to go in a hurry, Draco came to the conclusion that he might have forgotten the key and had to knock for entry. Draco dragged himself up and went to open the door, a smile and warm greeting just behind his lips when he saw that it was not Harry who stood on the other side, and he had to stop himself , his smile dropping with his mood.

Standing in front of him was a man that he didn’t recognize and was sure he didn’t know, either. But the other man standing behind the strange man he knew. It was William Windler.

He frowned at them. “Yes?”

The strange man with messy blond hair who greeted him took out a business card from his breast pocket and showed it to him. It read ‘Michael Corner’ and some kind of business title that he didn’t understand. The man smiled crookedly at him, and Draco instantly felt nauseated.

“Hello, I’m Michael, one of Harry’s colleagues. You must be Draco; Harry’s spoken quite a lot of you,” said the man and he stuck out a hand to Draco expectantly.

Draco eyed the hand sceptically and then looked back at the man. “Harry’s not in for the moment. You might want to come back later. Probably in the afternoon’s good,” he told the man and then proceeded to shut the door.

Corner stopped the movement by placing a hand on the door, and Draco frowned up at him, which got him another crooked smile in return.

“That’s all right, Draco. Mr. Windler and I can wait for him, since we were not busy. I’m sure Harry would be happier if we wait for him instead of missing him by a whisker if we left.” And with that, Corner didn’t even wait for Draco’s reply and pushed past him, forcefully opened the door again and went into the room. Windler hurriedly followed, glancing at Draco when he passed him.

Draco stood by the door and gaped at the two intruders for a moment, watching them taking a seat on the couch as though they owned the place. Which they didn’t, and Draco found that his fingers were itching to grab his wand that was tucked awa in his robes – he had it with him all the time when Harry was not around – and hex these rude and stupid Muggles. But he knew better than to really do that. So he settled for glaring at them and padded into the kitchen to bring out a tea set with boiling water, and set it down on the coffee table maybe a little bit too hard before he settled into the armchair adjacent to the occupied couch.

Harry should probably be back in another half an hour at the most, so he was going to sit here, waiting for Harry’s return and watching them for whatever scheme they were up to.

Windler looked uneasy while Corner kept smiling that creepy smile at him. He raised an eyebrow in return, and Corner shifted closer to him. Draco backed away and leaned against the back of his chair immediately.

“What?” he said, not even bothering to conceal the resentment in his tone.

Corner leaned closer; he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch and grinned at Draco. Draco stifled the urge to tell him that any kind of smile just simply didn’t suit him at all with an effort and stared back at him, his face indifferent.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is the nature of your relationship with Harry?”

Draco sneered at him. “Actually, I do mind you asking and it is none of your business.”

Corner only smiled at him which made Draco sneered harder. Then Corner gestured to Windler, and Windler sat up straighter as Draco’s eyes looked over to him, a faint blush colouring young Windler’s cheeks, and Draco had to roll his eyes mentally at the sight.

“I assume you know Mr. Windler here?” Corner said, glancing back at Windler and then back to Draco again. “Charming young man, he is.” And then he smiled at him again.

Draco smiled tightly at the both of them and frowned when he saw Windler standing up; his hand went to the direction of the inside pocket where he’d put his wand, and he regarded the two man cautiously.

He took a subtle glance at the clock on the far wall in the kitchen and noticed that it was already past noon. He assumed Harry would be back any moment now and searched for excuses to take his leave.

He rose to his feet as well, and he noticed that Windler jumped at his standing up and looked uncertainly at Corner. Draco smirked, he didn’t know what they were up to and it didn’t matter anyway, now that he was going to throw them out of here.

He smiled politely at the two of them, addressing Corner, and said: “Well, gentlemen, it was a pleasure to meet you. But I’m awfully sorry to say that it’s been more than twenty minutes since you’ve come in, and I’m really not sure how long Harry is going to take, and I would hate to leave you here waiting. Therefore, might I suggest that you come back later or contact him first before you come again?” He plastered a regretful smile onto his face and gestured to the door in a unmistakable motion that screamed ‘Get out’.

Corner rose as well, putting his hands in front of him and trying to smile pleasantly at Draco, at which he failed miserably. “Hey, no need to get all defensive. We don’t mind waiting for Harry, at all.” Then he grasped Windler by his arm and pulled him to the front. “William here just wanted to have a little chat with you.” He gave Windler a little push on his back, and Windler stumbled forwards and would have bumped into Draco if he hadn’t moved away in time. Draco frowned, irritation started to grow inside of him.

“Cease this nonsense at once. You may think I’m easy to be threatened or bribed, and I don’t know what you were trying to do here and I don’t care to know either, but if you try anything, I’ll make sure that you’ll regret it for the rest of your lives,” Draco said through gritted teeth and then pointed at the door again. “Now kindly remove your presences before I call the hotel authorities up here.”

Thankfully, Corner backed away at that, but Windler had been staring at Draco the whole time and now the predatory glint in his gaze was giving Draco goose bumps as well as a very bad feeling. His hand instinctively went to cover the spot where he kept his wand, using magic in front of Muggles be damned.

Windler began to approach him slowly, his gait was so intent and predatory that Draco could have sworn he was possessed. This was not the young man he’d known on the two occasions they’ve met each other. In fact, if it wasn’t for the fact that Draco was sure these two were Muggles, he would have suspected that Windler was under the Imperius Curse.

He backed away as Windler came closer and closer until his back hit the wall behind him and Windler was still approaching. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed that that Corner guy had backed into the far corner near the door and now was standing there, just watching.

Now Draco had no choice but to defend himself in the only way he knew he would have the advantage on his side, and he reached for his wand, all the while watching Windler and keeping an eye on Corner when he could as well.

Windler was mumbling to himself, or talking to Draco, as he closed the distance between them. Draco heard something faintly sounded like ‘liked you’ and ‘since first met you’ and thought Windler had gone mental with his blind crush on him and thought he could advance on him. He pulled his wand out from the inner pocket of his robes, but kept it hidden still within the fabric, a Stunning Spell on his lips, ready to attack if Windler decided to lunge at him.

When he did, Draco was fast to react. But just as Windler pounced on him and grabbed his shoulders in a death grip, and Draco’s hawthorn wand was already half-way out of his robes, a voice shouted the spell for him, and he watched as Windler froze, falling stiffly backwards onto the ground with a heavy thump.

And his eyes widened as he took in the sight in front of him now.

Harry stood at the doorway, wand pointed at him – at Windler’s previous location – eyes bright behind the glint of his glasses.

And Draco suddenly felt as if he had lost his ability to breathe.

Harry was a wizard.

*

Harry had never felt so glad that he’d chosen to return home straight after business was done, without going into his office to file a report first. The transaction with Windler had gone over successfully. The old man had agreed to trading the vase against the previously agreed-upon price and one artefact of his picking out of Harry’s possession. Of course, the artefact that Harry would be giving to him would be a replica of the real piece, as he planned to arrest Windler Sr. on grounds of illegal trading of ancient artefacts as soon as he handed over the vase. Harry had decided to come home and sort out the issue with Draco first – the Windler case as well as their issues that had sprouted this morning – before he’d go back to the office and request a warrant.

Harry had not expected to find anyone except Draco in his penthouse, let alone Corner and that youngster Windler, so imagine his bewilderment and rage at finding Corner standing next to his entrance hall, and more importantly, Windler prowling towards Draco with Draco backed up against a wall.

His instincts reacted before his brain even had the time to apprehend what was going on, and his wand was out and he was shouting a Stunning Spell before he realised that he’d pulled out his wand in the presence of a Muggle. When Windler went down the moment when he’d finished uttering the spell, Harry trained his wand on Corner, and Corner, who had not expected that he would do such a thing as violating the rule of not drawing wands in front of Muggles, raised both of his hands in defeat.

Harry glanced at Draco and was relieved that he couldn’t see any visible injuries on him, but that didn’t stop him from confirming his condition. “Are you all right there, Draco?”

Draco stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before he seemed to come back to himself, blinking a few times and then giving him a faint nod. Satisfied that no harm had been done to Draco, Harry turned his attention back and focused solely on Corner, his wand pointing straight to where his heart was.

“I don’t want to know why you thought that you could venture into my place and try to cause chaos here, so you needn’t explain yourself to me. But hear this, and listen carefully, because I will only be saying it once.” He took a step towards Corner, who flinched at his glare and cringed as the tip of Harry’s wand stabbed against his chest. “Take little Windler and get out of here at once. And don’t think that you’ll be able to play any more games with me, because I will be filing a report to Kingsley about your interventions on the case. So consider yourself removed from the Auror ranks and savour your last minutes with your badge.” He drew back his wand a little, so that the tip was no longer touching Corner, and jerked his head towards the door. “Go,” he said.

“Potter,” Corner tried, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He had already said what he wanted to say, and now he only wanted Corner to leave. He pointed his wand at him in warning.

Corner scurried towards where Windler had fallen, pulled him up and dragged him out of the room without a second glance. Harry held the door open for them and slammed it shut when they had moved outside. Then he turned back and saw that Draco had come closer; his eyes were still wide, as though he couldn’t recover from the shock he’d experienced. Harry moved towards him, his hand holding his wand loosely at his side, and stopped only when he was a step away from Draco.

“Are you all right, Draco?” he asked again.

The blond only looked at him, his grey eyes shining with awe and shock. Harry raised the hand that wasn’t still holding his wand and waved it in front of Draco before cupping Draco’s cheek with it. He started to become worried. “Draco? Did Windler do something to you?” he asked, concern clear in his tone.

Draco raised his hand in turn and covered Harry’s hand which was holding his face, and then he shook his head, his mouth agape. “You’re a wizard,” he said, and his gaze travelled down to Harry’s wand at his sides, and then back up to gaze at Harry’s face again. “And not just any wizard. You’re Harry Potter.” Draco’s face was all but awestruck.

Harry smiled at him and caressed Draco’s cheek with his thumb. “I was hoping I would still be Harry to you,” he said, looking into Draco’s eyes intently. “Just Harry.”

Draco took a deep but shaky breath as though to calm himself, then he reached into his robes and finally pulled out his own wand. He showed it to Harry as though handing it over for him to examine and chuckled humourlessly. “Well, guess what? I’m a wizard too, Harry.”

Harry nodded. “That you are. And I’m glad.”

“Why?”

“Because then I won’t have to explain all about the Wizarding world to you and have you gape at me like a goldfish.”

“I do not resemble a goldfish!” Draco protested promptly, and then he calmed down and blushed slightly and said in a smaller voice: “You wouldn’t have minded if I was really a Muggle? You would still have me as I am?”

Harry nodded again, firm and strong. He slipped his wand back into his sleeve and pulled Draco closer, hugging him warmly. “I wouldn’t have minded,” he affirmed, tightening his hold on him, and ducked his head to nuzzle his nose into Draco’s blond locks. “I fell in love with the person you are, not the abilities you have or don’t have. It doesn’t matter if you and I don’t share the same world, although I can’t say that I’m not grateful that we do, but it wouldn’t have mattered, Draco.” He kissed the top of Draco’s head gently.

Draco stood there in his embrace for a moment before his arms came up and wrapped themselves around Harry’s waist, returning his gesture as he buried his face in his chest.

They stayed like this for a while, and it was when Harry was about to let go of Draco that Draco spoke, his voice muffled by Harry’s shirt.

“I thought you were a Muggle and that I couldn’t be with you even if I cared about you. I was sure you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore if you knew that I’m a wizard and I was going to have to leave you anyway.”

Harry let go of Draco only to cradle his cheeks in both of his hands and made him lift his face up to look at him. He kissed him chastely on the lips before he pulled away and said, “Well then, let me ask you one more time. Draco, would you stay with me?”

Draco smiled up at him. “Oh, I don’t know. It will have to depend. How long do you want me to stay?” he asked jokingly.

Harry pretended to look thoughtful for a moment before he returned a smile of his own. “I was hoping that this time it would be heading to somewhere close to indefinitely.”

“Now you’re really not going to be able to afford me, Potter.” Draco smirked and leaned closer.

Harry grinned. “Try me,” he murmured against Draco’s lips before he claimed them in a kiss and sealed the deal.

~finite~
 


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