Disclaimer: I definitely do not own anything. All credits to J.K Rowling.
Harry smiled triumphantly as he finished the last line of his Auror report. Sadly, Auror work was hardly as glamorous as Harry thought it would be. Rarely, would there be any field work; that was reserved for the more experienced Aurors and the rest would be stuck filling in reports, sheets and stacks of notes. It was hell for him; these strenuous things were more Hermione's type of thing. Now it was time to go and meet Ron for a Firewhiskey or two, despite Hermione's vehement protests. The two had long learnt to ignore the woman's lectures since fourth year.
He was feeling far too happy. Way happier than what was normal for an average wizard. But that was okay for him; he was going to be brain-dead and absolutely incoherent in an hour or so so it didn't really matter if he was happy or not. Perhaps Hermione stuck something in his morning coffee. He didn't know.
Humming a muggle tune he had heard frequently back at the Dursleys', Harry strolled out of the Auror Department in contentment, waving to poor, unaware bystanders and shocking them with a brilliant smile. Oh dear. Imagine what a field day Rita Skeeter would have had. He could just imagine it; The Boy Who Lived On Drugs; Happy or high? emblazoned across the front cover of the Daily Prophet with him smiling manically at everyone.
Oh well. Harry couldn't care less anyways.
But before I go meet Ron, I'll go see Tom today, he thought with a crazy grin.
Yes, he was now friends, and rather close ones, with the previously well known madman known as Lord Voldemort. But then, Harry realised, that after the man got over his desire to kill him, he actually had a heart, despite the many blackened reports about him being soulless, heartless etc. Tom himself had told him that he actually did have a healthy, beating heart that was whole.
Walking down the steps carefully to avoid falling down the stairs like last time, Harry looked around, watching the glinting golden statues around him and the constant bustle of people with a childlike wonder. Lucinda Heinrich's statue looked most spectacular today.
He looked up, just in time to see a familiar notoriously blond head bob up and down as if hopping, in the midst of a crowd of dignified looking witches. Amusedly, Harry watched with a grin as said blond reached the end of the stairs and promptly crashed into another witch, who he found later on, had an immensely loud shriek.
And whom also happened to be Bellatrix Lestrange. With a sort of gleeful anticipation, Harry watched intently as the witch began to scold Draco loudly, only to stop moments later. Aww, that was no fun. I expected more bloodshed, he thought.
Bellatrix Lestrange, though whose days of ugly hairstyles and moth-eaten robes were gone to be replaced with the high-style life of sophistication, still had her sharp tongue and dagger-like glare. He knew that from when Dobby appeared in front of him a few weeks ago when he was filling out a form for work, all bulbous eyes and quivering ears and told him in a small but high scratchy voice that 'Crazy bat woman was looking at Dobby, sir, she was looking at Dobby with daggers!' before bursting into tears. It was rather sad that Dobby had such a terribly recent history with daggers, and with the same woman too. But either way, it still taught him never to annoy Bellatrix Lestrange when she had a dagger within wand range.
He watched as Blondie and ex-Black had a brief chat, more like a mere greeting, before Draco skittered off with a flustered expression in his direction. They both stepped into the lift with a few other witches and wizards, who all had their eyes trained on him with admiration. Having felt that the initial lightheartedness had not yet dissipated, he gave them smiles with all teeth and they stared back at him, probably thinking, 'What on earth has gotten into him?' It seemed only then, that Draco finally seemed to notice Harry through half-lidded eyes.
'Malfoy,' he greeted with a crazy grin, smile growing even wider when he saw the witches in the lift give him incredulous faces out of his peripheral vision.
Draco didn't seem to notice his abnormality, but nodded in reply, looking as if he would just collapse and fall asleep on the floor at any second.
All were silent until it was broken by a woman's voice announcing the second level. Two men walked in as the rest of the lift emptied out, save for him and Draco. Ah… Tom! And Severus. What luck I have today!' Harry thought.
'Good afternoon Tom, Severus.' he said pleasantly.
Draco's head jerked as his eyes widened dramatically. Harry squashed the urge to smile in triumph. He certainly was wide awake now.
'Indeed Harry. And how are you?' the man replied in his usual quiet voice.
The blond man's eyes buggered even more and his jaw dropped as the reality was confirmed.
'Draco, do shut your mouth. I do not need a clear image of the back of your throat.' Severus scolded.
He snapped his mouth shut with an audible click. Harry snickered into his palm.
'So what are you doing here, Tom, Severus?' he asked.
'We, are getting married.'
Harry beamed, for this wasn't surprising. He saw the occasional but tender looks shared between the two, although both had outright denied it as soon as he asked. Ah, old love.
Draco looked suitably shaken. 'To w-whom?' he asked, looking almost like a blond, dignified copy of Dobby.
'Tom, of course.'
'WHAT?!' he shouted.
Trying not to make a comment, Harry allowed himself a wide grin, dying inside from laughter. This did not go unnoticed by Tom, who gave him a quirk of an eyebrow. Harry, in the midst of the moment, stuck his tongue out at the ex-Dark Lord.
'Do calm down, Draco. That look is hardly flattering on you.' Severus commented smoothly.
'Congratulations, Severus,' Harry said.
'HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALM?!' Draco cried, with an expression of alarm, mortification and desperation. Whether he was mortified that he couldn't even keep his mask on better than an emotional Gryffindor, or that his godfather was really going along with marrying a possibly dangerous species of wizard, Harry didn't know.
Unable to refrain from teasing him in his moment of vulnerability (or as vulnerable as a Malfoy could get), Harry dove in for the kill. 'Surely you have some sense of self-restraint, being raised as a Pureblood and all that? Sadly, that seems not the case for you,'
Harry could see the man's instinctive retort at his lip but Tom was faster.
'My, Harry. Your retorts have become wittier. Severus has been rubbing off on you, has he?' Tom gave Severus a fond look, which was not so rewardingly returned with a sharp look from the man in Draco's direction. He-Who-Must-Be-Named pouted ever so slightly. Harry could have sworn that Draco looked ready to pass out.
Another two walked in at Level 3.
'Mr Tom Riddle,' the two said, greeting their old master with the traditional bow, one that had been literally hammered into their brains. (And when he said hammered, he meant smashed in with an anvil and a few not so subtle Crucios.
'Please, boys. Just call me Tom.'
Both remained bowed. Harry sighed; this always happened. It wasn't even funny anymore; the look on Tom's face was now neutral as opposed to his expression of horror the first time.
'Aren't you going to get up, Augustus, Roldophus?' he asked, impatiently.
Draco's mouth unhinged. And Harry came to a conclusion; Draco was trying to dislocate his jaw before they got out of the lift.
The lift lurched and Harry cursed the maintenance people to hell and back again. He really did not enjoy being thrown around a tiny space with a very touchy Severus Snape who happened to be extremely experienced with hexes and curses.
Eventually, the lift slowed down and a loud thud was heard before it came to a final halt.
And lying on the floor with a sheet white face, was Draco Malfoy.
Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin.
Harry watched in amusement as Roldophus bent down and began poking around at the fainted man.
And after several jabs at his ribs, Draco stirred and peered back up.
Draco let his head fall back on the floor with no intention of getting up. Harry could tell that he was resigned to the fact that he was stuck with him until maintenance fixed the damned lift.
And so, Harry leant back and enjoyed the ride.
Done! Hope you liked it! I guess Harry is a bit, you know, abnormal (OOC if you like), but that's completely ordinary for the Boy Who Lived. Right? Rate and review please! Criticism is appreciated, but I don't think Howlers are appropriate. Thanks! ~HPPH15