Tile: Switch
Author: Stolen Childe
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the wonderful and talented J.K. Rowling.
Warnings: Slash, dark, OMC, OFC, post-Hogwarts, language, minor sexual situations
Rating: R/Mature
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Main Characters: Draco, Harry
Spoilers: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, HBP; written between Half-Blood Prince and book seven
Summary: Written in present day, Harry Potter is not the Harry Potter we all remember and Draco Malfoy is a war-hero. Also working for the ministry in an occupation of vague description, Draco is sent to guard Harry when something rather disastrous arises. What will become of it all?
Author's Notes: Some of you may recognize the name as I dabble in other fandoms but this is the first Harry Potter story I'm posting. It's something of an experiment at the moment and I can't promise regular updates. Written from Draco's POV (for the most part) but it is a Harry-centric story as you'll see. Please bear with me and I hope this isn't too much of a humdrum.
Thank you to Marilyn Hart for the beta!
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Chapter One: It Involves a Lot of Reports
Draco squeezed the bridge of his noise underneath his wire-rimmed glasses. He of course would never admit to wearing the infernal things but there it was. A headache was building slowly behind his eyes and if it was not relieved soon he was afraid that he would enter migraine territory and that was unacceptable. He sighed and looked up from his hybrid laptop where a boring report was laid out in impeccable detail. After all, Draco Malfoy was not second to top in his year for nothing; top of his year in potions even. This of course meant that he always paid particular attention to detail.
A slender pale arm slid around his neck over the back of his couch and he rolled his eyes.
"Draco darling, come to bed?" his current girlfriend purred invitingly.
"I'm busy," he stated shortly. "I'm sure you are quite capable of finding the bedroom on your own, are you not? It's the big room with the white door and the bed; carry on."
She pouted but released him and sighed, "Your work is more important than me."
"Excellent observation," he said dryly before returning his attention to the report.
Draco worked for the ministry he was a… well no one really knew what he was except of course for himself and his superior. He was some sort of Auror, perhaps even an Unspeakable and no one knew what they did. Draco imagined even the Unspeakables didn't exactly know what they did. So he wasn't an Unspeakable but he was close. In any case, what he did required a lot of reports.
The headache was creeping up to migraine level and Draco gritted his teeth; he didn't have any migraine potion left and his headache potion wouldn't be strong enough.
If anyone knew Draco Malfoy from school, they would think it rather odd that he worked for the ministry; after all he had almost surely been a Death Eater in sixth year and Voldemort was gone and defeated. However, what many did not know and what got him appointed to his position by Minister for Magic Arthur Weasley, were his services as a spy to the late Albus Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix.
Draco got up from his laptop and wandered to his potion stores, deciding to resort to a headache potion. Ashley was thankfully off in a snit so he wouldn't have to deal with her ceaseless blathering. That was, of course, as when most unfortunate things happen at the most inopportune moment, that the most unfortunate thing happened. A very official looking homing pigeon swooped into the window and dropped an equally official looking letter on his counter top.
Draco groaned.
Draco always knew it was a message from his boss (whom he had never actually met face to face) when his letter was delivered by pigeon. He didn't know why his employer used the muggle from of bird post but whatever his reasons Draco always knew they were from him ( or her; or quite possibly them; "it" not out of question either) which could of course be the reason in and of itself.
Draco was loath to open it but he knew if he didn't it would open itself and start shouting at him for not opening it and declaring that he better be dead or seriously injured if he were ignoring the letter. Which would, of course, bring Ashley running and he couldn't have that.
So, very reluctantly, Draco tore open the official looking envelope and read the words on the equally official looking piece of parchment.
He gaped at what he read.
Apparently, whoever it was Draco worked for, desired him to go to a nightclub and not only that, a muggle nightclub. Now Draco was not opposed to alternate lifestyle choices, even if they did belong to muggles. It was just that Draco thought his capacity was much more than this. The very notion of him going to a nightclub like some common investigator was outrageous. The letter, as if sensing his angry thoughts, flashed a rather vibrant and rather disturbing red.
"All right, all right. I'll take the bloody job. Merlin knows I don't have much of a choice," Draco glared at the letter written with a standard type spell.
The letter curled in the semblance of a grin, flashed blue then white and disappeared with a soft pop. Draco glared at the bird.
"Well, you bloody pigeon, what are you waiting for? Away now!" Draco made a shooing motion with his hands. The pigeon chirped indignantly and with a very haughty wing flap flew out of the room. Draco made a face at the pigeon's back, prompting it to immediately curl up it's tail feathers before disappearing from sight.
"Lovely," Draco remarked, "I just received the fowl equivalent of a mooning."
"Draco darling? Who are you talking to?" Ashley asked as she entered the kitchen.
"The voices in my head. Weren't you supposed to be in bed?" Draco said perfectly evenly. She turned up her magnificently medically sculpted nose, sniffed and poured herself a glass of water from her wand before retreating.
Draco shook his head; if she wasn't such a good shag…
xx
The next evening found Draco in a cream coloured silk button down with wide French cuffs and tailored black trousers. His Hogwarts Slytherin House ring glinted on his left hand and a silver chain hung around his neck. He knew he looked fantastic and the admiring looks he received from some of his fellow club goers only cemented the fact. However he wasn't here to receive flirtatious glances, as flattering as they were; he was here to do a job and that job was currently dancing wildly in the middle of a throng of men. Pitch black, long curled hair flying around behind like a banner. He had received the image and some rather threatening news about the mark who looked fetching in a white tank, short jean skirt and knee high boots. Bangles and bracelets tinkled together as she moved her arms around and the thin black chocker on her neck made Draco wonder what was underneath it. Not to mention the tiny snake tattoo on her shoulder was rather appealing… but Draco shook that off.
The woman… girl… was Annie Ruttle, more uncommonly known as Bethany Francis Riddle… the only child of one Tom Marvello Riddle aka the late Lord Voldemort and though she looked like a nice girl she had dark intentions.
Draco was so intent on watching the girl (two years his senior but he'd never take that into account) that he didn't notice a young man walking towards him with his head turned behind. So the collision, needless to say, took them both rather off guard.
"Oy!" the young man exclaimed more startled than upset.
"Excuse me," Draco said imperiously back and then he blinked… quite a few times.
The man standing before him had pale skin, dark artfully messy hair, a white formfitting t-shirt, straight legged dark jeans and the most enchanting eyes Draco had ever had the pleasure to look into, made even more so when not hidden behind round, retro glasses; an amazingly vibrant green. There, standing before him, was one Harry J. Potter.
"Shit," was all Draco could articulate.
"Huh?" his companion managed eloquently back.
"Potter," Draco said with a practised sneer.
"Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed guilelessly. "What the bloody hell—?"
"Why the fu—?"
"Er… problem?" a voice came from behind Draco and Draco turned to see Nikki Kensington, his partner. He was attractive in the aristocratic way like Draco himself, with hawk feather brown hair and English blue eyes.
"Hey, Jamie, got your… Um…" a new young man, with golden blond hair and amber eyes faltered as he took in the tableau.
Draco was the first to regain his voice and furrowed his brow. "Jamie? Who's—?"
"Me," Harry said easily meeting Draco square in the eye.
"But—" Draco tried.
"Thanks, King," Harry said cutting him off, smiling winningly and taking the drink from the tall blond at his side.
"King?" Nikki remarked.
"Kingston Jones, a pleasure," he held out his hand; no one shook it.
"And you are…" Kingston tried weakly.
"This is Dra—er… Drake from school," Harry said.
"Ah, another rich brat, huh? So minister's son or film star's?" Kingston grinned. "No wait, you have that air… minor royalty."
"Minister's," Harry said quickly. He smiled brightly at the tall young man, "Want to dance?" He then forcibly shoved Kingston around and turned around the glare at Draco.
"Not. A. Word." Harry mouthed firmly.
At the careful, voiceless enunciation Draco saw what he thought he had only imagined before; a small glint of metal. He gaped at Harry's retreating back.
"Dear Merlin, Harry Potter has a tongue piercing," Draco said out-loud.
"A whatta?" Nikki frowned.
"A tongue piercing; it's like an earring through your tongue," Draco shook his head, remembering that little tidbit from muggle studies which Nikki apparently didn't take.
"Why on earth would anyone want to do that?" Nikki exclaimed.
Now Nikki was rather… worldly; almost as much so as Draco himself and he was also quite intelligent being a Ravenclaw, but Draco wasn't entirely surprised his fellow (year younger) pure-blood wizard didn't know this.
Draco faltered, "Um… it's a sex thing."
"Ah…" Nikki still didn't get it apparently but then he clued in and his eyes bugged slightly.
"So…" Nikki began then cleared his throat. "…so, what do you think the odds are of Miss Riddle and Harry Potter being in the same club a coincidence."
"I think the odds are very slim," Draco narrowed his eyes and traced his gaze over the crowd. He found Bethany who appeared to be rather casual but Draco's trained eye noticed she was concentrating quite intently on something. He followed the general line of her sight and noticed Potter dancing close by and dancing rather intimately with the dim muggle boy who had brought him a drink.
"Well that's… surprising," Draco commented.
"What?" Nikki asked.
"Potter. In school I'd heard he fooled around a bit but I didn't think…" Draco shook his head.
"Cho Chang always said he was gay but I always thought it was because their relationship didn't work out," Nikki mused.
"Merlin, what did he ever see in Chang?" Draco remarked rhetorically.
"Some one sounds a little jealous," Nikki sing-songed.
"Of Potter…? Hardly. I never had much of an interest in Chang I don't see wha—"
"Not of Potter; of Chang," Nikki pointed out.
Draco glared daggers, "Shut up, I'm not gay."
"I never said you were," Nikki shrugged. "Anyway, when do we call it a night?"
"Well…" Draco frowned. "I hardly think Riddle is stupid enough to pull something tonight, not with her lineage. We've only just been informed about this so I wouldn't think she's been at it very long. And Harry seems rather… taken care of."
Nikki let loose a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'jealous.'
Draco narrowed, "Though, come to think of it, I do suppose it would be prudent to keep someone watching her. Enjoy your night Nikki."
"Hey," Nikki whined. "Draaaco, come on."
Draco was slowly walking towards the exit, smirking ever-so-slightly, "No, no. Some one really should—"
"Look, sorry all right? Can I please go home? You know I'm rubbish when it comes to muggle interaction anyway."
Well, Nikki did have a point there. Draco shook his head and smirked; Nikki was just too easy to get going sometimes.
"Well, I suppose it would be all right if we left it for tonight, looks like Potter's gone anyway and Riddle is still here," Draco said.
"Oh thank Merlin. I can't wait to get out of these bloody clothes, nothing beats a good set of comfortable robes," Nikki said in a relieved rush.
TBC