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Harry Potter had a headache. Not a, "Voldemort is angry, and the wizarding world is in danger" kind of pain, but the becoming all too familiar annoyance that he has been associating with work. More specifically, the increasing pile of paperwork on his desk. He sighed and pulled his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose in hopes to alleviate the elastic like pressure building in his head. It wasn't even ten o'clock and he was already mentally done with this day. With his glasses still off, he looked around his small and cramped office. Muted gray light filtered in through the slotted blinds of the enchanted underground window, reflecting the current rainy and damp weather outside. Wanted posters of still at- large former Death Eaters covered the cork board by the door, the enchanted mug-shots silently scowling and overlapping each other. Even more cluttered, was his desk, and along with the disorganized pile of paperwork it included but not limited to: crumpled pieces of parchment, spare quills and ink bottles, wrappers from his lunch (buried somewhere…) and an assortment of random books and articles for research. The only personal and somewhat neat item on his wooden desk were two framed photographs, one of his fiancé, Ginny, in her green Holyhead Harpies uniform, zooming in and out of the frame on her broom, her red hair a flame behind her; and another one of his parents, laughing together, frozen in time. As one of the newest Aurors at the ministry, the office accommodations were sparse and the room even sparser. The only seemingly clean object in the room was another desk and wooden chair, identical to his own, that has yet to be occupied. He had hoped that Ron would have been assigned the same office, but had been quickly assigned and partnered with another new Auror. It didn't matter much to him though. Harry quickly found that he preferred working in solitude. Less people staring, less people to assume automatic greatness from his just because of what happened three years ago. Being alone helped him concentrate better… except now. He glanced down again at Ginny's picture, the image changing to her now midair on her broom, waving and smiling at the camera, quickly reminding him of his particularly good morning and wake up with her earlier today…

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt knocking on the heavy wooden door.

"Come in," he stammered, quickly putting back on his glasses as the door opened, the head of the Auror department, Robards entered in, carrying his usual clipboard.

Harry stood up, knocking over a book and some documents to the floor. "Everything alright, sir?" he greeted the older man.

Robards stayed near the doorway. "Potter," He nodded. "How's the paperwork from the Traver's case coming? I presume you had ample time to finish?" He asked after glancing at his clipboard.

"Yes sir, it's somewhere in here," Harry replied, lifting pieces of parchment out of the way in order to look for it. The lengthy packet was found underneath yesterday's sandwich. Harry quickly brushed off the crumbs and handed it to his supervisor.

"Thanks," Robards accepted the packet and with a wave of his wand, sent it flying in the air presumably to his office upstairs. "itching already to get back in the action, eh Potter?" the older man eyed Harry, smirking.

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded, hoping this meant he would be getting his next assignment soon.

"Come by and see me tomorrow then, in the meantime, do some research on possible Death Eater activity in Belgium, we had some intelligence that some of "You know Who's" followers retreated there" Robards replied and turned around, making his way out of the door. He stopped in the doorway and turned around abruptly.

"Oh, I nearly forgot, you will be getting a new partner today, he just passed the entrance exam and paperwork and starts this afternoon. I trust you'll help get him started," Robards finished before leaving.

"Wait, who is it?" Harry called, but the door slammed shut behind the older man, leaving Harry in the office alone. A couple of the wanted posters fluttered to the floor in response to the slam. I guess I'll be surprised, he thought sarcastically as he ran his hand through his untidy dark hair. He sat back down in his chair and continued with his work.

Draco Malfoy had a problem. Not a, "the Dark Lord has risen to power and Draco was expected to do his bidding" kind of problem, but a new problem that involves him being late. With a slice of toast in his mouth, the pale, blond young man practically flew around his small flat in Muggle London, grabbing shoes, socks, his wand, and battered briefcase. He made it to the door and realized that his new dark navy robes were turned inside out and that his shoes were not matching. After a quick wardrobe fix, Draco paused again at the door, stopping to take a glance in the dusty mirror on the wall by the entry. Looking down at his chest, he adjusted the small silver "M" pin and the new name tag below that read "Draco Malfoy- Auror". Quickly smirking at his reflection, he then glanced down at his watch. Realizing the time, he promptly opened the door, locking it behind him. Draco did a double take down the dingy hallway to make sure none of his Muggle neighbors were around before apparating to the main entrance of the Ministry of Magic.

After quickly looking at the large directory map in the main lobby of the Ministry of Magic, Draco was directed to the second floor to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement where his direct supervisor, Robards' office was.. And his soon to be new office. In his stressed and nervous state, he had forgotten that that had been where he had interviewed and had taken the various entrance exams for the Auror position. Draco nervously adjusted his black tie for what felt like the tenth time today and reflexively tugged on his right sleeve; he felt that even though it was covered by his shirt and robes, he always worried that people could still see the Dark Mark on his forearm. While the mark had begun to fade after Lord Voldemort's demise, it was still a reminder to him about his past. He wasn't proud of it. Was he trying to redeem himself with this new position? "What am I doing," he asked himself. He stopped tugging at his sleeve and stood up a little taller. "It's now or never," Draco resolved to himself.

Knocking on the heavy dark wooden door, Draco was greeted with a curt, "Enter" from inside. He pushed open the door and stepped into the dimly lit but clean office and stood awkwardly in the doorway, not quite sure where to look. Robards looked up from the note he was writing, and with the hand not holding the quill, held up one finger to tell him to wait. The older man quickly finished the inter office memo and with a tap of his wand, it folded up by itself and flew out the door, whizzing past Draco's ear and out into the hallway. Robards glanced up again at the young blond man.

"Mr. Malfoy", he eyed him from top to bottom before making stark eye contact. Dark brown expressionless eyes met Draco's pale gray ones. Robards glanced at his silver watch on his left wrist. "You're late. Ten minutes to be exact." The older man stood up and tapped his wand to his desk, swiftly organizing and covering up the documents on it before picking up his clipboard. He walked around to the other side of his desk.

"I..Robes, lost.. Phone booth…" Draco stuttered before clearing his throat. "Sorry, Sir, won't happen again," He muttered when he realized that Robards had become distracted again by an incoming flying note, this one on light blue parchment. Ignoring Draco, he held up another finger to instruct him to wait again. His eyebrows furrowed as he quickly scanned the page before folding it up and leaving it on the desk.

"Very well, don't let it happen again," Robards straightened up with a sigh and made his way out of the room, waving the younger man to follow him. Draco pivoted on his feet and followed the taller man out of the office and down the hallway. He became consciously slightly more aware of the sweat that was beginning to accumulate on his back under his shirt and robes, making a mental note to do a cooling charm on himself when the opportunity arises.

"All your incoming paperwork was approved, as you can assume since you are here now," Robards said, mainly to himself as he kept a brisk pace down the glanced down at the clipboard, not breaking stride. "It says here that you also received five "Outstanding" NEWT's and one "Exceeds Expectations". You ended up returning to Hogwarts for your seventh year?" he asked, turning his head around slightly to the other man even though he already knew the answer.

"Yes sir, after the ...er trials, I was approved to return," Draco's voice faltered, but Robards appear not to notice.

"High marks in almost every training discipline, especially Magical Defence. Very good, very good," Robards voice trailed off before stopping abruptly in front of a dingy door and turned to Draco. Once again, brown eyes met gray. "Let me make myself very clear, Mr. Malfoy. For some reason, possibly against my better judgement, you have somehow managed to slip in. And while on paper you excel, you and I both know as well as everyone here about the Malfoy name and that mark on your arm. Don't make me regret this. One wrong move and you are out of here and back to Azkaban. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Malfoy?" he emphasized Draco's surname, the emphasis on the syllables stung.

Draco nodded, subtly tugging on his right sleeve and resisted the urge to give him a piece of his mind. In his head he had already rehearsed his response to confrontations like that. But it has taken him almost three years to find a job and he wasn't going to ruin it.

"Very well," Robard's nodded, possibly to himself. "Here we are, this is your office. Your partner is already in; he's already has gotten his feet wet a bit, but I'm sure he will catch you up to speed with what the next assignment is. Again," he turned his neck around to face Draco. "I'll be watching you, Mr. Malfoy. One wrong move…" he warned.

"Yes, sir," Draco caught himself before he rolled his eyes, trying to keep his voice even and calm.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it. If you have any questions let me know." Robards then turned around and left Draco alone at the door. On the wall next to the door there was a faded square of paint where there was once a name plate, indicating whose office it was. They probably haven't put it up yet, Draco thought absentmindedly. Squaring his shoulders and letting out a deep breath, Draco ran his hand quickly through his blond hair, smoothing down the already gelled locks. You're a Malfoy, your past doesn't matter, you can do this, he reassured himself before turning the knob and pushing the door open. He stepped in, letting the door shut softly behind him. His feet barely made a sound on the industrial gray carpet. The small office appeared to be practically bursting with clutter, making Draco almost shudder with disgust. In the center and pushed against the back wall were two identical wood desks and chairs; facing each other, one unoccupied and the other covered with papers, books and other assorted items, all illuminated by a small industrial metal desk lamp, casting an almost cozy glow around the room. However, Draco felt something peculiar pull in his chest when he realized the identity of the other occupant in the room.

"Potter?!"

"Potter?!"

Harry's neck snapped up at the sound of his surname, spoken by an all too familiar voice. He wiped his head toward the source of the voice, and there stood Draco Malfoy of all people. Harry quickly stood up, knocking his chair over in the process. The two young men stared at each other, both with their eyes wide and mouths slightly open. Harry noticed that it was just the two of them, and he tried and failed to remember the last time the two were in the same room together. The trials. When he had vouched on behalf of Draco and his mother.

"What are you doing here?" Both men yelped. Harry leaned back to pick up the chair, not taking his eyes off the taller man, as if he was nervous to turn his back to him.

"This is my office," he stated, gesturing to the messy pile on his desk. He squinted slightly at the other man, not entirely sure why his heart was beating faster than normal.

Draco nervously raised his hand to run it through his hair again but then placed it by his side. "Robards assigned me here." He glared at the other man. "I didn't know you were going to be here," his voice was laced with venom and something else. Draco stepped into the office and slapped his briefcase onto the bare desk.

"What are you doing?" Harry sputtered.

"Claiming my desk, Potter," Draco drawled and opened the case, searching for something.

"I'd imagine that you would be going back to robards right now, demanding a change of office. Something along the lines of "my father will hear about this", Harry mocked.

"Kind-of hard to, since he is still in Azkaban," Draco pulled out several quills and an emerald green ink bottle. "and I don't really intend on getting on Robard's bad side when i have already been threatened once today". He rolled his eyes and continued to unpack his bag and place his belongings on his desk. Harry sat back down, slowly, scowling at the blond man. Draco tried to ignore the other man's stares as he finished unpacking and unceremoniously sat down in his chair.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer", Draco snapped, pulling out a small pile of parchment from his bag and placing it in the top drawer of the desk.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked him again, leaning back in his chair.

"Are you deaf or something? I told you, this is the office I was assigned to," Draco crossed his arms. "You're about as stupid as ever, Potter."

"No, I mean, why are you here, working for the Ministry? I didn't know they let Death Eaters in?" Harry mocked, trying to keep his tone light.

"Former Death Eater, you of all people should know that. What difference is it to you anyhow? I passed the training and exam and here I am, not that it is any of your business," he waved his hand with mock flourish. "Why are you here anyhow? Couldn't get over your stupid Savior complex, Mr. Chosen one?"

"Why do you think? To clean up the mess your lot made," Harry snapped, sitting up properly in his chair, feeling a very familiar twinge in his stomach that would occur when ever he would speak with Malfoy.

Draco subconsciously clenched both fists and sat up a little straighter, determined not to let the other man have any leverage. "You and I both know my allegiance changed and has remained so. My name was cleared three years ago, and what I've decided to do between now and then is frankly none of your business, Potter," his hotly tone had a hint of defensiveness.

"Yeah, I never got a 'thank you' for all of that you know. I didn't have to defend you and your mother at the trial," Harry pointed out. Draco was silent, scowling, not breaking his glare. "That's what I thought, you are still the same as you were before, an allegiance change or not," Harry stated. Not sure what else to say to blond man, with a flick of his wand, he straightened out the pile of parchment on his desk and quietly made his way out of the small, now shared office.

"Where do you think you're going, Potter?" Draco snapped, but the only response he received was the sound of the door shutting, and a fleeting peculiar feeling in his chest.