Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 2

Cannons, Chaser 2

Prompt: Write about a character who's deceit or intent to harm ends positively for the recipient/s.

Optional prompts: (word) proof, (dialogue) "Aww, does somebody need a hug?", (color) light grey

Harry had barely set his empty glass on the table when Fred was up, walking to the bar claiming the next round of pints was on him. He didn't even try to protest, even though he was exhausted from Auror duties and really should have been getting to his flat.

His new flat. His new flat he had just bought. Bought and then immediately found out that Malfoy was living in the same building.

"So, how's the new place?" Fred asked as he set down the pints on the table and sat back down.

"Good… Good…" Harry barely replied, taking a drink.

"Wow, that great, is it? Buyer's remorse setting in already?"

"No, it's not that," Harry said, sitting up a bit. "It's just… a lot of work," he said, deciding to dodge the bullet of bringing up Malfoy. Why did it even matter? Or bother him so much? "Sorry, just lagging a bit still after the raids this weekend."

Fred slammed his hand on the table. "A bit of excitement is what you need!" He jumped up from the table, looking at Harry expectantly. "C'mon, show me the new place. Let's see what trouble we can stir up, eh?"

Harry was not sure that this is what he needed, but Fred was difficult to say no to.

They were laughing as they passed through the front doors of the apartment building, their voices echoing off the white tile floors of the lobby.

"Unfortunately now you know where to find me -" Harry cut himself off as he saw Malfoy standing on the other side of the room.

He was standing in front of the bank of brass mailboxes set into the wall. The light from the sunset streaming in the windows reflected off them, nearly lighting up the whole room. Draco's figure stood at an angle; he had turned to see who was walking in. For a moment, the light hit Draco in a way that softened the angles in his cheekbones a bit. It made his eyes the brightest shade of light grey Harry had ever noticed before…

"Mate?" Fred shoved Harry in the shoulder and reality pulled itself into back into focus around him. He turned back to Fred, tried to give him a reassuring smile, which he was sure he failed at, and tried to nonchalantly glance back at Malfoy.

"Don't tell me you're sleeping in the lobby?"

"No!" Harry said a tich too loudly. "Of course not." He ran his hand through his hair as he watched Malfoy cross the lobby and start walking up the stairs. He tried not to stare, clearing his throat and nodding towards the lift as if Fred had been the one holding them up.

A week later found Fred and Harry skipping the pub, favoring Harry's new flat instead.

"Any new run-ins with Malfoy?" Fred asked as he took the bottle Harry was handing him.

"I'm not sure what you mean," said Harry as he sunk into an armchair.

"Oh, come off it! Don't tell me your schoolboy crush hasn't come back now that you've got to be seeing him at least a few days a week."

Harry nearly choked on the drink he had just taken. "What?" he barely got out, still coughing.

"Oh, we've heard all the stories by now, witnessed enough myself when we were back in school. Once you came out to us all, it all fell into place." He paused, clearly waiting for Harry to admit his feelings for Draco Malfoy. When there was only silence, he continued. "Don't tell me you didn't have a crush on him."

"No! What - we were in school! He was a git -"

"And you were flabbergasted when we ran into him last week."

Harry took another drink.

Sure, it had been a surprise running into Malfoy more often. They'd silently agreed to amicable nods as they passed each other in the Ministry hallways and at functions over the last few years, but that was all. They were usually both running off to do something Important. Plus the company they kept ran in circles that didn't quite overlap.

Sure, it had been a bit odd at first, running into Malfoy in the stairwell in the apartment building. Seeing him out of his robes. Not in what anyone decent would call leisure wear, but the linen button-down shirts and impeccably tailored trousers suited him…

Harry took another drink.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he said.

Fred rolled his eyes and suggested a game of Exploding Snap.

It was now about a month since their original run-in at the apartment building and things had escalated exponentially.

Harry's flat had now become his and Fred's regular hang-out for their post-work drinks. On one such occasion, George and Ron had joined in and for some inexplicable reason brought with them a slew of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products.

That's when the trouble began. They had already known that Malfoy lived in the building, but somehow the Weasley brothers had figured out that he lived in the flat directly below Harry's. First, it was just a bit of noise making. Of course, silencing spells could deter that fairly easily so they needed to think of something else.

"It's been ages since we've pulled anything, Harry! Especially on Malfoy," Ron was arguing.

"That's because we're closing in on thirty! And we're Aurors! You're getting ready for a kid!"

"I think closing in on thirty is a bit of an exaggeration, mate -"

"I meant all of us!" Harry threw his hands in the air, exasperated by his own surly attitude. He stopped pacing, and fell onto the couch.

"Aww, does somebody need a hug?" George said while rummaging through the box of WWW products.

"Needs more than that, if you ask me," Fred mumbled to his twin. Harry just glared back.

"Look, I don't know why you've decided to start channeling Hermione tonight, but let's just have a laugh, yeah?" Ron sat down on the coffee table across from Harry. "He'll have no proof it was us, we're not going to do any damage… You're too serious these days, mate!" he said, knocking Harry's knee with the back of his hand.

He had been rather bogged down with work lately, Harry reasoned with himself. It wasn't as if they were going to do anything illegal. Just a neighborly prank.

"Do you have any Shimmering Salt Drops in there?"

That was the start of it. While they had expected Malfoy to be home, what they hadn't expected was that he had his own schoolmates over. Nor that they would be just as enthusiastic about getting their hands dirty as the Weasley twins themselves.

That weekend turned into an all-out war. Pansy Parkinson and Theo Nott were clearly fast thinkers with plenty of ingenuity. Nobody remembered Blaise as being that good on a broom and Harry quickly learned that if he mounted his Nimbus, Draco was going to be right behind. The real surprise had been Greg Goyle, who had shown up half way through and somehow incited renewed vigor in the Slytherin/Malfoy side. Then the Gryffindor/Weasley side had called in Ginny for backup, which quickly evened the score.

Thankfully they had amicably let things die down and returned to work on Monday, everyone miraculously uninjured. Things didn't come to an out-and-out halt through, which became clear on Tuesday afternoon.

Harry had been walking through the Atrium of the Ministry and just turned down one of the records hallways when he saw Malfoy walking towards him. They nodded in their usual silent manner as they passed and Harry thought that of course they could continue being adults, amicably ignoring each other even if it was getting harder and harder to deny he was a bit too captivated by Malfoy's grey eyes and the tilt of his mouth when he smirked, when he tripped over his own feet. He might have blamed his ridiculous daydreaming except that he heard a distinct snicker behind him as the clicking of Malfoy's shoes faded away.

These kind of incidents continued throughout the week. Stinging hexes, temporary laryngitis, Malfoy had somehow figured out how to give Harry the hiccups, to which he had responded by slipping one of the WWW daydream concoctions into Malfoy's tea. That one had been difficult, and he may have brought his cloak from home to manage it.

It was Friday night and Harry was looking forward to a peaceful weekend. He had adamantly refused any plans with Fred and George. He had even told Hermione he couldn't come to tea on Saturday. He'd go to Sunday dinner at the Burrow of course, but that was the only dose of Weasleys he wanted this weekend. He may not actually be closing in on thirty quite yet, but he also wasn't sixteen anymore and the week of pranking had worn him out more than he wanted to admit.

Harry had just poured himself a drink and gotten comfortable on the couch when there was an urgent knocking on his door. He cursed under his breath, pulled himself off the couch and went over to open the door.

"Hiya, Harry!" Fred pushed past him into the flat, holding an odd assortment of things in his arms. "Just gotta set up a few things for the last prank."

"Fred, I told you I'm wiped," Harry said as he stood at the open door. "I'm not doing anything this weekend."

"You slipped Malfoy the daydream alright?" Fred asked, completely ignoring Harry's protests. He was flitting around the living room placing little things here and there.

"Yeah, got it in his tea right as he was headed into a meeting I think…" Harry watched Fred run over to the stereo and pop in an album, then dart down the hall. "What are you doing?!" Fred was back just as soon as he had disappeared, a huge grin on his face that made Harry worry.

"Good," said Fred, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder. "That was a very special daydream, just for Malfoy. Well, for both of you really." Harry opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Fred was standing in the doorway, about to leave. He pulled out his wand, and with a single wave, candles lit up all over the room and soft music was playing.

"Right," said Fred. With a mischievous smile, he was gone.

Harry, feeling like he'd just been confounded, shut the door and turned back into his flat. His somewhat spartan living space seemed a bit more comfortable in the soft light. There was a wine bottle on the table with two glasses, which Fred must have put there because Harry didn't even own wine glasses. Just as he was picking up the bottle to look at the label, there was another knock on the door.

Sighing, Harry walked over to the door and opened it again.

"Potter! I don't know what the hell you think you're pulling but it's been a long week and I can't stand another second of -"

Draco Malfoy was standing in Harry's doorway, shouting at him. Apparently, for all the noise he was making. He wasn't really listening because he was sure he deserved whatever Malfoy was saying. Although, they had all been acting childish, and Malfoy was the one who had kept it going at work. Though on the other hand, Fred had encouraged him plenty… Harry had never noticed how lively the colour grey could be when it was the colour of someone's eyes who was shouting at you. Except Draco wasn't shouting any more.

"Potter?"

"I'm sorry," Harry said, not exactly sure what he was sorry for. Staring, perhaps? The pranks? He adjusted his grip on the wine bottle he was still holding and looked down at it. "Would you like to come in for a glass of wine?" Harry heard himself asking, looking back up at Draco. He watched the blonde shift his eyes between Harry to the inside of the flat and back.

"Alright."

Surprised, Harry stepped back, fully opening the door.

"It better be a decent label after everything you put me through this week," Draco said as he walked inside.

"You'll have to tell me," said Harry as he closed the door, scanning the hallway before he did. "A friend left it here."

A/N: Special thanks to my betas! fightfortherightsofhouseelves, for-witchcraft-and-wizardry, just-things-i-like-mostly