This was written and posted last year as part of the HD Holidays fic/art exchange on livejournal and I'm posting it here as I wait for this year's stories to be posted (and as I take a break from writing Choosing Family). This story is complete (!), and I'll be posting chapters twice per week.

My giftee was Pessen03 who requested "any kind of first-time fic where either draco or harry courts/woo/date etc with flirting and ust and then FINALLY when they end up together and in love and having sex". I'd like to think I came close (feel free to disabuse me of that in reviews :) ).

My original debts of gratitude remain: Thanks to the HDHols mods, especially Taradiane for the hand-holding and infinite patience, my sister for her help with the bunny-breeding, for her willingness to listen and keen eye, and Tith and TLF for finding the time to beta.

Originally posted for the 2011 hd-holidays fest on livejournal; posted on FF 29 Nov. '12


Searching Diagon Alley

April

"Harry," Gredy said patiently, "when a customer comes in to pre-order the latest model racing broom for his child, it is your job to sell it to him, not to convince him to take a second-hand training broom instead."

"Gredy, the kid's six! He'd break his neck on the 456!"

"And someone would have no doubt made that clear to the man, and he'd have kept the 456 for himself and given the child his older model, or come back for the training broom. You need to start thinking like a salesman, Harry. You're not responsible for the safety of every person in the wizarding world."


Leaving Quality Quidditch Supplies, Harry stared at his building across the street and wondered whether he should stop by Flourish and Blotts. He'd developed a habit of picking up a new book after each bad interview and, as a result, was developing quite a collection of recipe books. Being sacked wasn't quite the same thing, however. Maybe the set of new baking pans he'd been coveting?

By the time Harry, laden with shopping bags, returned to his flat, quite a crowd had gathered in front of the building. It was becoming typical for Friday evenings. The window displays, theme, and décor of Draco's shop were changed each Friday, in advance of the Saturday rush, and each week, a group would gather the evening before, hoping to be the first to see it.

Some of the designs were elegant, some were flamboyant, but all were elaborate, detailed, and stunning.

Blaise was leaving as Harry arrived, standing in the doorway of the stock room that shared a small foyer with the stairs to the flats above. He was talking to someone in the shop – Draco, Harry assumed.

"You know I'd lend it to you if I could."

A faint response could be heard: "And I'd kiss you if you managed it." Definitely Draco.

Blaise laughed carelessly in response, though Harry's breath caught. Again. "You never actually offer when I'm single; I'm starting to think you don't mean it," he called back before smiling at Harry. "Hey, Harry. Did you want in?" He gestured at the door that would otherwise lock behind him when he left.

As Harry had taken to stopping by several times a week, it wasn't a strange question. He weighed the relative merits of dropping his bags off at his flat versus knocking on what would be, by then, the locked main entrance, then nodded at Blaise. "Yeah, thanks."

Harry left his stuff by the door to the storeroom and found Draco closing the till. He looked a bit more frazzled than usual – his hair was mussed, and his wine-coloured button down was wrinkled, despite what Harry expected were a dozen charms against such things – but he looked up to smile briefly, before continuing his counting. "I hate Purebloods," he said when he finished.

Harry snorted and looked at him inquiringly.

"New society are smugly pleased to hire a Malfoy to organize events for them, but since I've chosen to sell my skills, it really doesn't bother me. The old purebloods, on the other hand, seem determined to punish by criticism."

Harry considered that. "Because you didn't win or because you survived?"

"That is the question."

Draco moved on to the rest of the closing tasks, telling Harry about his day as he worked. When he tried to ask about Harry's day, Harry simply shrugged and changed the subject. Thankfully, Draco let him get away with it, though he squeezed Harry's shoulder comfortingly the next time he passed by.

"Do you think it's normal to have a lot of interviews and offers when searching for a job?" Harry asked as they were unlocking the doors to their respective flats later that evening.

Draco considered the question then asked, "How many is a lot?"

"All of them?" Harry confessed hesitantly.

"All the jobs?"

"Well, all the ones I've applied for," Harry qualified, "Only a few others."

"Yes, Harry, as I understand it, that would be very unusual," Draco's drawl was laced with more sarcasm than Harry usually received these days.

Harry thought he probably deserved it.