How ridiculous. Draco checked himself in the mirror for the 20th time that morning, straightening out his already impeccable robes, smoothing his slicked back hair. He looked perfect, he always did. It had nothing to do with the fact he was about to meet his boyhood rival.
He sighed deeply before leaving the comfort of his room to await Potter in the entrance hall. There was no time in the letter, so naturally Draco assumed "morning" meant between 8 or 9 am. By 10, there was a pronounced frown on his face as his foot tapped impatiently. Any student unlucky enough to walk past were met with withering glares and promises of detention if they remained too long. By 11 his arms were crossed and he was positively fuming.
Auror Potter strolled in confidently as if he owned the place at 11:30. "Honestly Potter, if I had known you'd get lost on your way in I would have sent you a map!" Draco sneered, feeling 15 all over again. "I hope you realize my time is very precious!" Potter raised an eyebrow in response.
"Of course. Now, if we could go someplace private, I have matters of great importance to discuss." It was infuriating how Potter remained professional, even if he was so late. Draco nodded, not trusting himself to speak again without insulting the man in front of him.
They walked in silence down the twisting corridors towards Draco's office. He couldn't help but notice Potter seemed to have stopped growing since graduation. Draco towered over him by at least 4 inches. He also couldn't help noticing how auror training had helped Potter stay so incredibly fit. He also couldn't help staring at Potter's arse whenever he got the chance.
No. He was not checking out Harry bleeding Potter. He was... admiring his robes. Yes, that's exactly what he was doing.
Before long, Draco and Potter were seating in his office with a steaming cup of tea and a bowl of crisp, green apples between them. "If you'd be so kind as to explain why exactly you are here..." Draco drawled between sips from a dainty porcelain cup.
Potter smiled, green eyes flashing with amusement. Draco almost choked, he had never seen Potter smile directly at him and quite frankly it was stunning. "You never change," Potter chuckled to himself before his expression became serious once again. "What I am about to tell you is a part of an ongoing investigation, and is not under any circumstance to be repeated, understand?" Potter voice indicated no room for debate. So Draco nodded, still recovering from those shocking green eyes.
Potter relaxed visibly, leaning back in his chair. "Brilliant. You're familiar with Wolfsbane I take it?"
"Of course." He placed the steaming cup gently on its saucer. "I have several clients I make it for."
"Anthony Goldstein? Padma Patil? Michael Corner?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. He cleared his throat and tightly answered, "Out of respect for the privacy of my clients, especially with the nature of this potion, I can neither confirm nor deny."

"I wouldn't worry to much about their privacy. All three have been found murdered in the past few months."
"Murdered." The word came out barely above a whisper. Draco stared into the fireplace recalling each of their faces. He had gone to school with them. They had all fought in the war and thanks to Greyback, they were all infected with the lycanthrope curse. Wasn't it bad enough they were ostracized from society over something they had no control over?
"-Malfoy? Professor Malfoy?" Potter's attempts to draw Draco's attention went unnoticed. "Oi! Draco!" Potter finally shouted.
"Sorry, as you can imagine the news is... shocking." Draco tore his gaze from the flames. "Yes, they were clients of mine. Murdered. Are you sure?" It couldn't be true. He had seen Padma only 2 weeks ago.
"According the the medi-wizard, their Wolfsbane potion was switched with a Bloodroot potion." Potter's expression was unreadable.
Draco felt sick. What a terrible way to take a life. He couldn't think a more cruel end. The very potion meant to ease the suffering from their curse would kill them in the most painful way imaginable. Then it hit him, the ex-deatheater responsible for making the Wolfsbane who also happened to be the ex-rival of the auror in charge of the case was probably a damn good suspect.

Draco was sick.