I do not own Harry Potter, or any other character in this story!

Harry hadn't seen Draco Malfoy since the end of the war and the Death Eater trials. With him only being seventeen at the time and practically been forced received the Dark Mark he was never sentenced. Harry, of course, had witnessed on his behalf. With the knowledge he received through Snapes memories he felt that it was the only right thing to do. And it seemed that the rest of the wizarding council had agreed with him. And who were they kidding anyway? The only reason Draco Malfoy was in the situation he was in during the war was because of fear, not that he would ever admit such a thing to himself, Malfoy-pride and all. But the rest of the wizards and witches hadn't been too easy on Malfoy. Not a week went by without Harry reading about Malfoy in the papers. Weather the things he read was true or not he had no idea. He really didn't care that much either. And the fact that Harry was now standing in Malfoys very large office in one of the newly built skyscrapers in London (owned by Malfoy himself of course) seemed just a tiny bit odd.

"I never thought I'd see you here, Potter. What do you want?" Malfoy drawled from where he sat behind a large wooden desk, not bothering to look at Harry when he entered, but instead continuing to read from a file lying in front of him. He turned a page and continued to read with a small frown on his face.

"Well?" he ordered. "I don't have all day."

"Eh-" Harry stammered, "I came on the behalf of my boss, actually. He has a business proposal he'd like you to consider."

Malfoy snorted, and flipped another page.

"Really now? And what makes him think that I'd ever join forces with the ministry?"

"He said-"

"And exactly what made him think I'd listen to you of all people?" Malfoy interrupted.

Harry couldn't help but smile. There's the Malfoy I remember, he thought.

"It was me or Ron-"

"If Weasley will be there it's definitely a no thank you."

"-and then there's the fact that I saved your life. " Harry continued and finally got some sort of reaction. Malfoy slammed his fist hard at the desk.

"I owe you nothing!" he spat. "Now get the hell out of here or I'll call security!"

Okay, not quite the reaction I had mind, Harry thought and laughed nervously.

"Hey, that was Rons way of putting it, not mine. Listen Malfoy, will you please just hear me out? It'll only take five minutes." Harry winced a little at how pathetic he sounded, but they were really screwed without Malfoys help. Malfoy himself sighed and leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest and seemed to reconsider. For whatever reason Harry didn't know.

"I'm a very busy man, Potter, I don't have five minutes. Not now anyway. It's not easy running a company as large as mine. Can't take a bloody day off without someone screwing something up around here."

Harry twisted his hands nervously, hoping for the best. Then Malfoy sighed again and rolled his eyes.

"Fine Potter, you win. Can't believe I'm bloody doing this."

"Really?" Harry said, thoroughly shocked, "You'll hear me out?"

"Meet me at Magazine 15 at eight sharp, we'll discuss whatever it is that you and your ministrypeople want then. Now get out, I have work to do."

"Wow Malfoy, I didn't actually think you'd agree. Thank you!"

Malfoy glared at him with his stone gray eyes.

"Haven't agreed to anything yet Potter. Now leave, before I change my mind."

Draco felt like smacking himself over the head, preferably with something very very hard. Why on earth had he offered to hear Potter out? So that he could be completely humiliated and reminded every tenth second that he was indebted to potter? He had claimed otherwise, of course. Malfoys were indebted to no one, had never been and would never be.

Draco sighed as the memory of potter grabbing his hand and saving him from the lethal fire flashed through his mind. At least the dreams about the incident had stopped, but he still thought about it every now and then. Mostly all the time. He sighed yet another time, a newly adapted habit he established, as the most recent memory of Potter played before his eyes.

Potter had certainly changed since the war, and said change did him good. Potter had always been kind of scrawny during their time at Hogwarts, but he had become tall and muscular, something that had to be the result of some very intensive aurortraining.

The hair as messy as usual though, Draco mused and quickly pushed away the thought of them being lovers.

In another lifetime maybe, Draco thought, were we didn't hate each other and Potter actually could carry on a decent conversation.

Draco didn't even have to look at the entrance to know when potter entered the restaurant. He heard the doors open somewhere behind him, and where followed by sharp intakes of breath, not so quiet whisperings and questions of autographs. He heard potters awkward apologies and a moment later the green eyed man damped down on the chair on Dracos opposite side of the table.

"Not late am I?" he asked with a smile.

"No," Draco replied grumpily as he considered canceling their meeting. With a bright eyed and smiling harry potter in front of him he would agree to anything. It annoyed Draco to no end, especially considering the fact that not a single man since Draco openly admitted he was gay a couple of years back had made his insides flutter. Not that his insides fluttered. Malfoys didn't have fluttering insides.

Stupid fucking Potter.

Malfoy was acting strange, Harry thought. Compared to their latest meeting, he kept the insults to a minimum. In fact, he hardly said a word. They ordered their food and ate in silence. Harry didn't mind the silence though. After a long day at the ministry he was happy to just sit down and relax for a while.

"You're awfully quiet Draco", he finally said, taking a bite from whatever fish he had ordered. He wasn't much into the fancy kind of food that Malfoy apparently was.

"Long day", Malfoy answered shortly and meeting his eyes for a second. "So, what does the ministry want with me, Potter?"

"We want you as a consultant on a case", Harry said simply.

Malfoy snorted.

"Really now? I've heard your boss is quite an arse. Why would he want a former death eater as a consultant?"

"Because you are a former death eater, actually" harry said with a smile "at least that's one of the reasons. We've come across several murders the last few weeks, where all of the victims had been poisoned. We need someone who can analyze the samples of the potions we've been able to receive. And since you're quite good at potions…", Harry didn't finish the sentence.

Malfoy laid down his fork and knife and seemed to consider what harry just had said.

"You expect it to be dark magic involved?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"We know its dark magic involved."

"Then why not just use any of the ministry's consultants if you already know what you're dealing with, Potter?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Draco, I'm sure you know what the ministry is like when it comes to dark magic. Most of the time they like to pretend it doesn't exist, and they would never dream of having staff on the subject. My knowledge on dark magic isn't near enough."

"Well mine isn't either", Malfoy snapped and furiously began eating again. Harry decided to leave the subject and settled on watching Malfoy eat. Harry smiled to himself as he thought of how the difference between Malfoy and Ron. Where Ron would tear his meat apart and shove it into his mouth with a never slowing speed, Malfoy cut his with practiced precision and chewing and swallowing it completely before going for another bite.

At the moment though, Malfoy obviously cut his food with a little more force than originally intended, because a large piece of meat flew of his plate and down on the floor. Malfoy sighed, lazily waved his hand. Not more than two seconds later a waiter was as their table, spelling the lost piece of food away.

Harry watched with interest.

"I'm done", he said curtly and his plate was swept away.

"Mr potter?" the waiter said, pointing at his plate. Harry nodded and the table was cleared.

"Do you always behave like that?" Harry asked curiously.

"Only to my staff."

"Oh",

"As eloquent as ever I see", Malfoy smirked and Harry was relived the insulting was back, at least a little.

"Didn't realize you owned restaurants too, is all."

"I own lots of things, Potter"

"Don't know why I'm surprised. What kind of things do you own?"

Malfoy hummed and furrowed his brow.

"One more restaurant apart from this one, a couple of hotels, a few smaller companies, a mall or two. And Malfoy Incorporated, obviously."

"Why?" Harry asked, deciding that this was a good topic to discuss if he wanted to stay on Malfoys good side.

"Money of course", Draco drawled, then sighed and leaned back in his chair and absently pulled a hand through his perfectly slicked back hair.

"I don't know much about dark magic, potter. I wasn't a very good death eater, if you remember", he said eventually.

Harry nodded at the anticipated answer, but of course, he had come prepared.

"Not from what I've heard."

Draco raised an eyebrow. He seemed to be doing that a lot, Harry mused.

"And what exactly is it that you have heard, Potter?"

"That your knowledge in the dark arts is in fact quite big. Enormous even."

Draco glared suspiciously.

"I have no idea whatsoever you are talking about."

"Oh come on Draco! It's not like the ministry arrest people for having read a few books on the subject."

"And by a few books you mean…"

"The Malfoy library," Harry stated and watched with satisfaction how Draco choked on the sip of water he'd just taken. It was kind of nice knowing he still had the ability to throw the man off his feet a bit.

"Who the hell told you that?" Draco gritted through clenched teeth.

"Blaise." Harry answered.

"Blaise?"

Harry nodded.

"You know Blaise? How?"

"I believe that's none of your business Draco."

"Well, it seems like I have to kill him know, if he's going to reveal all my secrets", Draco said and Harry rolled his eyes.

"You in or not?"

"Defenitly not, moron! What do you think your boss will say when he finds out that I, a former death eater, have been engaging in dark arts? I'll tell you what! Your boss will run along to the minister and they'll ship me off to Azkaban, for life!" Draco bellowed.

"No they won't," Harry said with a shrug, "already talked to my boss about it, said it was a little hobby of yours."

"A hobby? Really? And he believed you?" Draco smirked. "You pulled The Boy Who Lived-crap on him as well? Or The Boy Who Defeated The Dark Lord And Saved All Our Asses, what is it that you go by these days?"

Despite telling himself that this was just typical Draco-behavior, Harry couldn't help but get annoyed.

"Well, obviously I'm wasting my time", he said as he stood up. "If you, however, happen to change your mind you're welcome to the ministry tomorrow at ten, and if you don't, I don't give a shit."

Before he left, Harry pulled out a square box from his robes and handed it over to Draco.

"Not a bribe or anything. Just thought you might want it back."

Draco was fuming. How dare he? Stupid fucking Potter.

He had opened the box right after Harry had left and almost dropped it as he saw what it contained. His wand. The wand Harry had maneuvered from him that awful day at the Mansion during the war when a couple of Snatchers had brought in the Golden Trio. Draco still didn't know why he'd hesitated in telling Bellatrix the boy suffering from the stinging hex was indeed Harry Potter. Oh, of course I know, Draco thought. If he'd given away Potters identity that night it'd all be over. Harry Potter would have been dead and they'd live in a world full of misery.

Stupid fucking Potter. Always bringing out the soft sides in me, Draco cursed. It was one of the powers the green eyed man had over him, together with the ability to bring out his worst sides. Weird how that worked.