Prologue
.
"I can't do this!"
"Of course you can."
"Why do you even want me to do such a ridiculous thing?"
"Well, firstly it'd help you, secondly you definitely need a date, thirdly you get on my nerves, and last but not least, it was your idea in the first place."
"I was drunk."
"I don't care. Do you really want to be stuck with your ex for three whole days, having his new girlfriend – of all things – rubbed in your face while you stand there all by yourself like a pathetic kicked puppy who can't get over his asshole ex?"
"I don't know what's more pathetic, coming alone or paying a stranger to be my date."
Harry's face was set and he snarled with self-disgust.
"Nobody'll find out. We're gonna choose the hottest guy and of course he'll be a hell of an actor and John will come crawling back to ya, ya'll see."
"You're still with that American guy, aren't you?"
The question was met with a goofy, dreamy grin from Seamus and Harry just rolled his eyes while at the same time, his insides constricted painfully. He wasn't resentful but he very well knew envy when it kicked him in the butt – or in this case turned his insides upside down. His depression showed in a long, deep sigh that made a by-passer turn and stop for a moment. The man then hurried away as if he had to make up for the second he had lost.
Harry wished the prospect of having John back wouldn't mean anything to him. But it did. He craved for him to come back, reassure him it would never happen again, and that they would live happily ever after. God, he was pathetic. It didn't help that the mere possibility of getting John back made him give in to Seamus' ridiculous idea.
"Come on!" Seamus yelled down from the staircase that lead up to the old building they were in front of.
Defeated, Harry just shrugged and followed along slowly.
They had rented a room in this building located in muggle London a few stations away from Oxford circle for the whole day. And this day would prove to be a very long one.
.
Harry held his head in his hands. In front of them stood perhaps the fifteenth man who emphasized his "wand-love" with thrusts of his hips. Harry was desperate to leave.
"What the hell did you write in that announcement in the newspaper?" Harry finally burst out, though that was difficult seeing that his head had fallen on the desk and now lay pressed to it. It was actually a pretty nice place, no disturbing images there.
"Hm, let me think… Only that we're searching for a handsome guy with manners, acting skills and... what was the last point? I know, it was something devilishly brilliant. Oh yeah, I remember! Something with wands. You know, so that it'd be clear we are searching for a gay man and, if we're lucky, so that we might even find a wizard. Maybe it was 'wand-loving'? Or was it 'preference of wands required'?" Seamus was still murmuring to himself and therefore did not notice Harry slowly turning his head – even though it meant leaving his lovely safe place with his forehead against the counter – to throw his soon-to-be-ex-friend a decidedly deadly glare.
They continued their 'casting' and Harry's endless pain reached new levels. Each guy was worse than the last, and only a few here and there didn't seem so bad. Of course, they may have only evoked that impression because the preceding ones had been so very, very bad.
"When will this be over?"
The whine was muffled from the wooden desk Harry was speaking against. He was seriously contemplating never standing up again and leaving his new favourite place.
"Oh, we have still some interesting candidates to go."
A groan was heard, but nothing more.
.
"Hello."
"Hi, so who're ya?"
"Jeffrey and I have a wand."
Face pressed against the desk, Harry was close to crying.
"Really?" Seamus spoke slowly as if he was contemplating something. "Do show."
With a bolt Harry sat upright at once, shocked dumbstruck at his friend's bold request. He saw the guy's hand vanishing under his cloak and was about to protest, flee or just kill somebody – preferably Seamus – when said hand reappeared shortly after, holding up a wand.
Harry's mouth formed a perfect 'O' though no sound came out.
"Fantastic!" Seamus cheered enthusiastically like always.
They spoke about everything Seamus had also talked about with the other guys and even some additional things. After some minutes Harry's head slowly wandered back to his comfortable place against the desk top. Of course this time there actually was no reason for the movement. The fellow was fairly normal and nice. He just didn't seem like Harry's type. He was a little too normal, kind of boring. Maybe that was the reason Harry's relationships never worked, he simply didn't have decent taste. He dreamed about normal relationships, but normal men were too boring for him. He was doomed.
"Nice afternoon," Seamus finally dismissed Jeffrey happily.
When the door was closed he turned around to Harry. The room was small, with only one window and was painted in light colours. Now the setting sun gave everything a faint red glow. Not that there was much to illuminate besides the two men, the chairs they sat in, the desk and interviewee chair in front of them.
"So how'd you like him? He seemed nice. You think -"
"No."
"Why not, he -"
"No!"
"But -"
"Just NO!" Harry hissed, immensely irritated and only absentmindedly noting the ineloquence of their dialogue.
"Alright. He was boring anyway. Well, that also means we have some more guys and their wands to go."
Did Harry hear glee in that cheerful voice? Oh yes, definitely glee, glee that was only fuelled further by Harry's desperate groan for help. The game started anew. Men came in, men left, sometimes a wizard, often a muggle, most of the time a perverted booby head. Harry kept his head pressed to the desk the whole time, prompting some candidates to inquire if he was glued to it. In some sense he was. He didn't even change his position when his neck began to get sore or when Seamus accused him of sleeping while he – poor martyr – was doing all the work. In short, the casting became quite monotone until –
The door opened and closed. The next candidate entered the silent room – a feat that showed Seamus' exhaustion and let Harry hope that his friend would soon give up and call it a lost case. But the silence stretched on and Harry's muscles tensed, his ears straining to hear what he couldn't see at the moment. Not even exhausted or half dead would Seamus be silent for that long.
"Oh." The single word out of Seamus mouth was not worth him. No, something was definitely wrong.
Slowly and with outmost caution Harry lifted his head, not bothering for the cracks in his neck or the red spot that certainly decorated his forehead but instead fiddling with his wand under the table. Only much later did he realise how ridiculous that must have looked considering there was nothing, not even a tablecloth, blocking the incomer's view of what they did under the table.
When his eyes settled on the man in front of them he stilled.
"Oh."
"Is it not always an immense pleasure to meet the ever so charming and coherent Gryffindors?"
The familiar drawl did nothing to ease Harry's shock or loosen his own tongue. He couldn't believe his eyes. For a long time the room stayed completely silent.
"Eh… what are you doing here?"
Thank god, Merlin, and Godric Gryffindor for Seamus' ability to speak even in such a situation or else they probably would have sat there in silence for eternity.
Malfoy. No, wait a moment, that's lacking the needed emphasising.
Draco Malfoy sat there, his lips pulled into a lazy smile.
"Well, I've read this interesting announcement that seeks a handsome fellow to be a date for about three days. Seeker prefers wands, if I remember correctly. And this for one 'scarred cutie', it said curiously. I'm surprised my suspicion was true, I must say."
Malfoy coyly quirked an eyebrow and honoured them with his patented smirk.
"And as a matter of fact, I happen to have a wand. Besides of course the one he might also prefer," Malfoy leered haughtily and gave Harry a pointed look.
"Hmm, yes you are right here, so then -"
"Are you crazy?"
It must have been the first thing for Harry to say in hours. He didn't specifically know who of the two insane nuts in front of him he referred to but right in that moment he didn't care either. They'd both lost their minds.
"Why would I…? How? You of all people?!" Anger was no good for coherence or, at least, not in Harry's case.
Malfoy seemed to think the same if the mocking smirk was anything to go by.
"The better question would be, why not?"
Harry spluttered at the respond. "Because, because -"
"Because of our long held animosity and hatred for each other?" Malfoy finished the sentence with a pointed look that Harry failed to see, well, the point of.
"It's really simple, Potter," Malfoy began with an exaggerated sigh. "Ever heard of the sentence 'There is a fine line between love and hate'? Hate may be the opposite of love but nonetheless it is still as strong an emotion. It's key to making this little pretence at least remotely workable. Our animosity brings another helpful side effect: familiarity. We're familiar with each other's bodies from all our fights we've had, and we know each other's characteristics. After all we've spent years keeping an eye out for one another." Malfoy finished looking smug as ever at the sight of Harry gaping.
"But… I don't like you! I don't want you near me and I don't trust you, or even stand you. And I don't know you!" Ha! Finally some real and whole sentences! Harry was proud of himself though Malfoy didn't seem impressed at all.
"So?"
"What do you mean 'So'?" Harry again spluttered at the indifferent tone. He hated that, he hated Malfoy. "Doesn't that say enough? I mean, I wouldn't even know your favourite colour!"
"Ah, but who would care about that? In my twenty-two years my favourite colour varied as often as I changed my wardrobe. Literally. Something as trivial as that doesn't prove anything. You know much more important details about me as I know about you. You know what makes me angry or riles me up, you know what I like and find pleasant or what I'm uncomfortable with. You know how I react to stupid questions or how I treat problems, even how I hold my wand. You're probably aware of almost every look I wear in any situation. Now Potter, tell me I'm wrong with that? You would be lying. We've watched each other for years. Keep your enemies closest. Am I not right?"
In this moment – to put it in simple words – Harry was scared. The way Malfoy pointed this all out was freaky but even more unsettling was the realisation that everything was true. Harry knew those things about Malfoy and much more.
"B… but…" Harry stopped his fevered attempt at speaking by clapping shut his mouth with a click of his teeth. He needed his mouth to relax first; he'd stuttered and spluttered enough for one day. Think before you speak, Harry exhorted himself.
"But I still don't trust you. Now even less than before. Why are you trying so hard? What's in it for you?"
Harry watched Malfoy closely and expectantly but instead of reclining or doing something similar, the man just smiled.
"You know that I have ulterior motives. Shouldn't that be enough? Don't worry, it would be way too stupid to try and kill you, and the announcement specifically states no humiliation and exploiting are tolerated and a high secretiveness is required. So really, there is nothing serious you have to fear. You pay well and except sex – as I'm no whore, mind that – everything should be fine. Of course, I won't deny that the benefits of being Harry Potter's boyfriend are quite attractive too. I might come into good graces with the ministry and the public."
Harry just sat in silence and stared.
It seemed to be an afterthought when Malfoy added: "Plus, I'm a brilliant actor and know all the do's and don't's at such functions. The wedding of Weasley and Granger, isn't it? The papers are having a field day with it."
Harry nodded absently. Everything seemed to fit perfectly. This made him uneasy.
He heard a humming sound coming from the place next to him.
"So, ya want to play Harry's new boyfriend. Don't ya think there'd be some problems?"
Malfoy's eyebrow rose again – seriously did that thing ever stay in its normal place – but that was probably more at Seamus' American accent he was suddenly talking in because otherwise he stayed unfazed by the question.
"There are going to be problems for sure, but as our little 'relationship' won't even be real, it will be easier to withhold any disapproval or resentment. Once the people get over the shock we'll look even more realistic because of the 'love-hate' thing. They will think that only our great love could have helped us overcome all the obstacles and the romantic allure will work in our favour," Malfoy ended.
Oh yeah, so romantic, Harry thought wryly to himself. Everything was so planned out that this cold calculating of Malfoy's didn't leave any place for romance. Also, it made Harry feel even more uneasy. Though really, why would he even want romance? This was Malfoy after all!
Again Seamus gave his humming sounds.
"Romantic, yeah. So I take it, you're gay?" Seamus obvious question was only answered by a short nod. "Good. Well, you know Harry's dick of an ex will be there- "
"Seamus!"
"Harry, please I'm talking. Anyway, he's the reason for this casting. You're supposed to make him jealous and regretful of his awful behaviour."
"And make him take Potter back?"
Harry's heart sped up by the mere words even though he wished he'd have more control over himself. He was pathetic. Harry still noticed that Malfoy didn't exactly seem taken by the idea.
"I'll look like an idiot!"
Ah, so that was his concern.
"Hem, no not necessarily. Just let him – John is his name by the way – look like an idiot. Show him that Harry doesn't need him because he can have the very best. That's most important."
This time it was Harry who wasn't so taken by the idea, while Malfoy looked assured and amused. Idiot! Anyway, what was that supposed to help? Harry sighed silently. In the end Seamus probably only started this whole circus to 'show' him that he could do better and should move on and such rubbish. He knew he should move on, it was just that he still loved John and he'd liked another chance. Was that really so bad?
"For this matter you, of course, need to be authentic. So after the interview there is one final test. Would you please step forward?"
Test? What kind of test? There hadn't been any tests before.
Malfoy looked as confused as Harry felt. Nonetheless he stood and strode closer with strong steps.
"Good, now Malfoy, kiss Harry."
Seamus spoke with such casualty that speech failed Harry. Then a disbelieved "What!" ripped out of his lungs in an outraged shout. Malfoy stayed completely silent and looked at Seamus for a few seconds before shrugging and stepping towards Harry.
"What're you doing? There's kissing. I mean no kissing. Step back. No reason to come closer!"
Alright, so Harry was babbling frantic nonsense in a panicked fit, but who wouldn't? He watched with painfully widened eyes how Malfoy slowly bent over the table that separated them. Harry himself leaned back with the movement.
"Finnegan is absolutely right. The audience has to be convinced of our serious relationship. They have to know we're physically involved also and kissing is the least …"
Malfoy was talking in a low baritone, but somehow Harry couldn't really keep track of what he was saying. He stared at him, transfixed, with eyes almost popping out, incredulous and not able to believe what was about to happen. He shook his head in small movements without actually turning away from Malfoy. At least he had stopped babbling, though now something was seriously wrong with his vision. It couldn't mean anything good when he was only able to see grey eyes anymore, could it? Malfoy, by now, had moved much closer. And now he was angling his head, their noses touched for a brief second and then there were lips just inches away from Harry's. Only out of reflex, he turned his head a little up towards Malfoy and, really, it was only the tiniest bit, and he only opened his mouth to breathe more fully, really.
"Of course, I would never kiss my Harry in front of the audience. We're not for public entertainment and this is much too intimate. We take care of our privacy."
The warmth before him was taken away suddenly, and it took Harry a moment to register the words Malfoy had spoken.
"Very good." That was Seamus cheerful voice. Harry thought he sounded a little breathless himself, almost as much as he felt.
"Perfect. You're perfect for the job! I think it's settled."
That traitor! He was singing and clapping his hands as if Christmas had arrived early and it was the best day of his life. With that he was defiantly degraded to a bloody traitor!
"What? No! Certainly not! This is a stupid idea and I will not take part in it. Which means it is never going to happen. This whole thing is stupid and Malfoy is certainly not playing my fake boyfriend at my best friends' wedding!"
Harry had grown louder towards the end and stood now shouting and throwing his hands around in the air in a wide gesticulating manner.
"Harry, I'm hurt. Aren't I your best friend?" Seamus gave as a totally unfitting and irritating reply complete with the mocking and extremely melodramatic hand-over-heart-gesture. Neither Harry nor Malfoy spent him much thought.
"Alright then. If you change your mind though, call me."
With that Malfoy dropped a card on the table. His number and address for owl post was written on it. He wasn't concerned by Harry's exclamation obviously, that much was certain. He seemed so sure of himself, if the smug grin on his face was any indication. Sure, that Harry was going to call. Arrogant git!
With a swish of his coat Malfoy turned – he was wearing muggle clothes Harry suddenly noticed – and left the room.
Everything around Harry seemed to shake suddenly and the walls ran in circles. Only one thing stood out clear: the number on the card. Malfoy owned a cell phone.
.
TBC