Disclaimer- We solemnly swear that we are making absolutely zero dollars for the writing of this fanfic. It is merely for our amusement and the amusement of possible readers.

A/N- This fic is a collaboration between the two of us, which we have decided to share with all of you. We hope that you enjoy the following story as much as we enjoy writing it. Thanks!

-nocturne and spooky

The Taming of the Snake

Chapter One- The Bet

'Harry J. Potter, Head Auror,' The words declared, prominently displayed across the frosted glass door that gave way into the young wizard's office. Harry had insisted upon modesty, but his definition of the word seemed clearly to be at odds with that of Shacklebolt's. The young wizard, along with everyone else, knew that he had been a shoo-in for the position and everyone was abuzz about the fact. However what he disliked were the rumors that he hadn't truly earned his position. Harry didn't like to hang on the past, but he had to admit that Ron's opinion on the matter was correct.

"Mate, if destroying the most terrifying Wizard of this century isn't good enough for them, nothing will be. I say fuck 'em, you earned it. Besides, who was it that brought in Augustus Burdock single handed? They'd been tailing him for a decade before we came in with no luck. They can go wank on that." Granted he had said that with a half empty pint in his hand, and two empty ones right beside him, but drunk words were sober thoughts and he knew exactly what he was talking about.

Bright green eyes scanned over his new office. Surely it was bigger than it had been for anyone else, and he couldn't deny that he was being spoiled. He disliked it, honestly. Everything should have just been left as it were. No wonder half the wizarding world had had a fit over it. He ran his hand over the clean marble counter, not one speck of dust was left upon his fingers and he was sure it had been charmed. His desk was made of the smoothest, most clear glass he'd ever seen. It was truly so unnecessary. Not one scrap of paper littered the beautiful desk, an issue that would soon be rectified, much to Hermione's horror.

He worked his way around the smooth glass until he was seated, quite comfortably in his new leather seat. It was probably the most comfortable chair he had ever placed his bum upon in his entire life. Yes, Harry hated all the extra attention, and being treated like some sort of God, but he could not deny that being Harry Potter did come with some very enjoyable perks. Harry let out a loud sigh, lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back into his palms. Gracefully he swept his ankles up unto the desk and pressed all of his weight into the back of the chair.

Thump, thump, thump!

Suddenly three loud knocks came upon the door, in succession, shocking his system and sending him flying backwards onto the floor with an even louder thump. A piercing pain radiated up his spine like a bolt of electricity and he winced, clenching his teeth.

"Morning Princess!" Came Ron's jolly greeting as he worked his way around the door to the office. "Blimey..." he said, his eyes as wide as a house elf's as he looked around the room, then down to Harry. "What you doing on the floor?"

Harry raised one brow, stroking his lower back and pulling himself and the chair from their pile upon the floor. "Gee, I wonder..." He answered.

"It's bigger than our living room at the Burrow! You really are a princess," he continued, ignoring Harry's obvious sarcasm, that famous Ronald Weasley crooked smile upon his face. "This can't be fair."

The newly appointed head auror didn't even bother to correct Ron on his new nickname, he was far too used to it by now, arguing against it only made it worse. "I agree. I'm considering telling Shacklebolt to change it." He said, sitting back down and making a note to remember to change everything but the chair. "No. I'll do it myself. I'm not some spoilt brat who can't even wave his wand on his own to make a few alterations."

"Could have fooled me." Ronald remarked in jest, earning a glare from his best friend. "And leave it, mate. Fuck with it and people will think you're ungrateful."

"Someone will have something to say no matter what, won't they?" He asked, crossing his arms, but no reply came. Ron's eyes were too busy being fixed upon his left, causing Harry to shift his vision to the right. He hadn't even realized it before, but there was an arch along the far wall, leading into a room, smaller than his, fully stocked with cabinets and a desk.

"You've even got a private secretary?"

Harry shrugged, "Beats me..." honestly he hadn't even seen the room there when he came in, he was too in awe and amazed at the whole situation.

"So she hasn't been hired yet?" Ron said walking over to the room and peeking in.

"Who says it's going to be a she?"

"Are you a man, or are you a man? Because I'm not so sure right now. I'm sure they'll let you choose her. Loads of women would kill for this! Just pick the one with the best credentials and-"

"You mean the one with the highest skirt and lowest collar?" He wasn't exactly in the mood for Ron's sexist banter, nor being arrested for sexual harassment. He wasn't touching that subject. No doubt any woman applying for the job either wanted to bed him, marry him, or create some sort of scandal. He was fine without any of that. But once again, his sarcasm was lost upon his friend.

"Exactly! Now you're getting it!"

Harry chuckled at the pure silliness of the conversation. "And have your little sister end my life. No thank you." He adjusted himself within his seat, drawing Ron's attention once again. "I'm still trying to figure out what the point of this visit is, Ron," he said, his voice not exactly oozing impatience, but still curious nonetheless.

"Oh, right. Drinks with the boys, tomorrow night, usual time, usual place. Don't be late." He replied, making his way toward the exit.

"Alright," Harry answered, "Oh, and from now on, I'm your boss, remember that," he said with a chuckle.

"Haven't you always been?" Was the last thing Ron said, as he shut the door behind him, leaving Harry alone once again, to revel in his tiny kingdom.

They'd been doing this for ages now, meeting this way. It was nice, reminiscing about days gone by. The good and the bad, but mostly the good. These weren't occasions to be glum, they'd spent far too much time in their later school years being glum for that. Harry had learned long ago that people just needed to accept the hand that they'd been dealt, no matter how bad it may be. And he couldn't have had better friends, they were the type who knew how to have fun in the face of adversity. The sort that knew not how to forget, but how to heal. He'd been doing a lot of that over the years. The tradition went as follows, they'd round up all the blokes and meet each other up in a tiny dingy little muggle pub in the middle of town and well, just get plastered off their arses. It wasn't very far from Harry's flat, which was a very good thing. Drunk apparition was the very definition of the phrase not pretty.

He'd dressed very casually, a red v-neck and blue jeans. It wasn't like the guys were going to care very much what he wore. His hair was as shaggy as ever, that never changed, nor could it, no matter how hard he or Hermione had tried. Honestly, it was nice to be able to take it easy, the transition had been so bothersome, all of the photos, all of the interviews, all of the formalities, and he still wasn't done yet.

Harry was convinced he'd never be done.

"I swear, it's probably bigger than Shacklebolt's office!" Ron continued to go on about Harry's office, his language finally beginning to slur.

"I highly doubt it..." Harry replied rolling his eyes, as the rest of his mates howled with laughter.

"Oh, be a good sport Harry..."

"...we can't have the Ministry's princess all frowny faced, right after his big promotion," By now Harry had grown quite used to Fred beginning a sentence and George somehow magically ending it, but he couldn't help but wonder if they'd developed some sort of strange mind reading connection. As long as he'd been in the wizarding world, he'd never looked that well into twins. He didn't think he wanted to. The Weasleys freaked him out enough.

"I ought to hex you all into the year 500, is what I ought to do," he replied with a chuckle.

Neville sat forward, finally joining the conversation, after having been quiet the whole night. "Speaking of hexes, have they sold the Malfoy residence yet?"

It was common knowledge that the Malfoy's had lost everything after the war. With Lucius Malfoy placed in Azkaban and a block on all of their accounts, his wife and son could do nothing else but sell all that they had. Of course everything had to be tested first, checked thoroughly for hexes and the like. Dark artifacts became the property of the Ministry. However, just removing all of the dark magic texts and items wasn't enough. The house which had existed for longer than any of them could imagine under the Malfoy name was no doubt full of many tricks, charms, hexes, spells and trap doors, that could mean death to any potential buyers. There was also a rumor that if anyone who wasn't of pure Malfoy decent attempted to own or live within the Malfoy Manor's walls, would wither away and die a quite slow and painful death.

Harry would be lying if he said it didn't somewhat break his heart to see how everything turned out, but it was the least he could compromise for the sake of the family that had pretty much been his arch enemies throughout most of the war. He couldn't save Lucius Malfoy from the punishment for his crimes and he honestly hadn't wanted to. It didn't take long for the Wizengamot to decide upon his sentencing: Death by way of the Dementor's kiss. It was a private execution, left open only to his wife, and their lawyers, The Minister of Magic and the savior of the Wizarding World himself.

It was horrific, witnessing the Dementor's kiss. He thought that it had been terrible when he saw himself and Sirius in the same situation, but nothing, nothing came close to seeing it out to completion. It was cruel, but far from cruel and unusual. After all, Lucius Malfoy had been a cruel man.

"No, no..." Harry finally replied, after having been lost within his own thoughts. "They want me to look into it a bit more, you know, just to make sure. I'm going to bring Hermione with me, though. If she can't find it, there isn't anything there."

Dean smirked and took a long swig of Firewhiskey. "They got it rough, the Malfoy's... you sort of have to feel sorry for them."

"I don't," Ron chimed in. "Not one bit, got what they deserved, they did. Bet they thought they'd be on easy street right now. Ruling with an iron fist. Now two thirds of them are dead and the other one third is-"

"Sucking cock for sickles!" Dean exclaimed letting out a hearty laugh, causing everyone to look at him with curious smiles upon their faces. They all laughed in unison, just at the mere prospect. "No. I am serious." He continued, "Do you remember Josephine?"

"How could I not?" Ron replied. Josephine was apparently Dean's newest conquest, and she was actually very beautiful. Harry was happy that Ron had someone to talk women with at least. It wasn't like he could fill this space, what would they talk about? Ginny? That...that just wasn't okay.

"Well, we were getting real hot and heavy the other night. She's a fox! I swear she's gonna be the death of me," he said before clearing his throat, "but anyway, getting to the point..." By this time all the men were very enthralled with his tale. Dean had a way of doing that. "...So we slide into an alley behind the bar to get a bit of privacy to find the place is already engaged. Let me tell you. A gay couple. One on his knees, mouth full of cock..." He slowed down a giant grin upon his face as everyone furrowed their brows in confusion. The word 'so,' written upon each of their faces.

"It was Malfoy!'" He finally continued, earning a sucking of teeth from all of them. Harry had known where he was getting at from the beginning, and he didn't understand how the rest of them didn't. But he knew that like he, they all had the very big suspicion that Dean was just pulling their leg. He wasn't exactly famous for telling the truth and what with the rumors about Malfoy, he probably thought he'd get a kick out of telling a tall tale.

"That would never happen!" Seamus finally spoke.

"I'd know that ferret faced git anywhere. It was him, and you know what they've been saying about him. Can't get a job, has no money. Dad an empty shell, mum in the ground. My cousin Harold says he knows a bloke, who knows a bloke who paid to have a night with the infamous pure blood prince."

"Well if it was him, I think we've solved Harry's little secretary problem."

"Harry, you've got a secretary?"

"No. Not yet, but he will." Ron said with a chuckle. "I dare you, find Malfoy, hire him. You could make his life a living hell!"

"As if it wasn't already," The twins exclaimed in unison.

"I don't even know if I'm going to hire anyone at all. Besides, like Malfoy would accept a job offer from me."

"If he's sucking cock-"

"Look, I just think you won't do it, because you know you couldn't make him."

"Five hundred galleons says you can't make him the perfect little slave." Fred chimed in, just in time.

"That would be so silly, what would be the point?"

"Pure entertainment. Imagine the revenge."

"I think I've had enough of revenge."

"Well if you don't think you can do it." Harry gazed at Neville in shock. When did he become such a traitor?

Harry laughed at their gall. Did it really matter that much? Five hundred galleons just to play a child's game? He didn't get what their issue with Malfoy was. Hadn't he been through enough? As far as Harry was concerned, Malfoy was far enough on the bottom rung and he had no desire to push him farther. It wasn't exactly like he cared and that was just the point, he didn't. Malfoy could stay where he was, Harry had no desire to look for him. But the boys, they wouldn't shut up about it unless he just gave in.

"Fine. I'll look for him. Does that make you all happy, you sick sadistic freaks?"

"Actually yes!" They all replied at once.

It was easy to answer them, but not quite as easy to fulfill their task. But it wasn't as if Harry actually planned to. It would be easy to take back drunken words, and he doubted they were even being serious. On the magical off chance they were, it wouldn't have been difficult to convince them that he couldn't possibly hire someone who'd never applied. In fact it was the truth. The whole thing was completely immoral and out of bounds. And Malfoy would never apply for such a position. No matter how hard his life was. No matter how many jobs were turning him down. Even if he was selling his body just to make ends meet, there was no possible way he'd ever agree to be Harry Potter's private secretary, right?

And once he proved that, the bet would be completely null and void...

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