A/N: Short and uneventful chapter - sorry. More interesting drama coming, I promise!

"Near a year? Wouldn't it be easier to say you just picked me up last night?"

Malfoy sighed, rather calmly setting his mug back on the table. "I could pay a prostitute much less than I'm paying you for something like that. If you've changed your mind on doing this…well, then I'll need my money back. I don't have the luxury of time to waste."

Shaking his head slowly, Harry muttered, "No, no…it's fine." He'd already given away part of the money. He was stuck in this, even if it seemed a bit crazy. Not that it hadn't seemed that way from the start.

Like he was sure that was going to be the answer, Malfoy flipped open the folder. "There's really no good place to start...," he mused as he dragged a fingertip down a detailed checklist. "Middle name?"

"James. It's my dad's name."

Malfoy nodded, jotting it down. "Lucius; also my father's name. And your mother?"

"Should I be taking notes, too?" Harry asked, watching that green fountain pen scratch away with an intense fury.

"I have it handled for the both of us," Malfoy insisted, fluttering his hand in the air like it was preposterous just to ask. "Your mother?"

"Lily," Harry breathed softly. The pain from the day before came fluttering back like a stab to the chest at the mention of her name. He attempted to dismiss it again with a large gulp of his coffee.

"Lily and James Potter…. My mother's name is Narcissa. You will also be meeting her sister, Bellatrix. She's married to Rodolphus Lestrange. There's another sister that we don't talk about. Therefore, I want us to try and bring her up in conversation as much as possible." Malfoy looked up at Harry, a flicker of some kind of warmness passing over his features. "Andromeda Tonks is her name."

Harry set his mug down perhaps too hard, startled. "Tonks?" he repeated. "Is she related to a Nymphadora Tonks?"

Malfoy's brow rose in interest. "My cousin…."

With a grin, Harry relaxed back. It felt weirdly satisfying to connect himself in a roundabout way to this family of unattainable status. "She's married to my dad's best mate," he stated smugly. "Small world, huh?"

With another roll of his eyes, Draco continued to take notes. "You'll also be meeting my paternal grandfather - Abraxas. He's the only grandparent I have left and he hates me more than anything in the world. Well…he might end up hating you more in the end. We'll see…. Make conversation with him about menial, plebeian things. Actually…." He tilted his head to once side and then the other, thinking for a silent moment. "All conversations you start with anyone should be dreadfully boring and unrefined.

"Except the ones you strike up with me. Those should convey to anyone listening in that you are absolutely head-over-heels in love with me."

Harry had never been in love. He'd watched enough movies and read enough books to know what it was like. But in practicality, he'd never had to convince someone that he was in love. "I'll try my best?" Harry offered, trying hard to sound sure but coming off flaky.

"If you're not convincing, you don't get the other five thousand pounds," Malfoy said simply and returned back to his list. He ran through a few more questions - birthdates (they were the same age, Harry was barely the younger one), education (of course, Malfoy had attended boarding school), and allergies (was it really possible to be allergic to the sun?). All of the new information was swimming in Harry's half-focused brain. It felt like too much. But he needed to do this. The day previous was a perfect example as to why. There was no way his dad could go back to work any time soon. He was needed at home. Lily needed him.

"So…," Harry started when Malfoy stood to start another pot of coffee. They'd already run through the previous one and were still growing weary. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm bored."

With his back turned, it was impossible to tell if Malfoy was serious in his reply. Harry had a feeling he might not be, even if he wouldn't own up to it.. "And…why tomorrow?"

Sighing heavily like Harry's questions were annoying him, Malfoy once again answered to the coffee pot. "My parents' anniversary. Twenty-five fucking years…. They're getting the family together for a week-long celebration."

"We're going to be there for a week?"

Suddenly, with that small nod, Harry felt instantly overwhelmed. Pretending to be madly in love with someone for one day was going to be difficult enough. He didn't know this man. Even with all of this information mucking up his brain, he still didn't even begin to know who he really was. Love wasn't superficial. Love wasn't fakeable. Harry was a firm believer in love and the beauty of its spontaneity. In its natural ability to make magic a real and tangible thing. But this? He didn't believe in this or any of it working. It was fake. It was a setup. And a week of this? A week where he would most likely have to share a bed with a stranger? Well, that wasn't something he had any sort of faith in. "I didn't agree to this," Harry muttered, pushing up from his chair. "You didn't tell me it was for a week."

With a shrug, Malfoy finally turned back around to face him. "You didn't ask for specifics," he stated. "You, rather stupidly, just entered into an agreement without knowing what was expected of you. Did you read the contract you signed yesterday? Of course you didn't…. But this is why I picked you, I suppose. I needed someone quite stupid and here you fucking are."

How was Harry expected to even pretend to love this insufferable arse? But, unfortunately, he had indeed signed a binding contract. If he didn't follow through, then he'd have to find a way to return the advance. A way that didn't involve taking money out of his parents' hands. "I can play stupid for you if that's what you what. I can play 'peasant' while you play 'pauper'. But you know you can't treat people like that in normal life, right?" Harry stepped closer into the kitchen, feeling weirdly awkward and unconfident in his stockinged feet. "Even if you are paying them…."

Unfazed, Malfoy turned with the newly refreshed tray and walked right past Harry. "We still have a lot to go over," he said in that hurried and impatient voice. "You have to learn how we met and what our inside jokes are." He sat back down, flipping through more pages of his legal pad. "Do you sleep in pyjamas or in the nude? I just want to be prepared…."

Harry fists balled at his sides, but he didn't move otherwise. "How much longer is this going to take?" he seethed through his teeth. Trying very hard to keep some sort of cool. Some control and calm when all he wanted was to slap the smugness out of this man.

"That all depends on you, really. If you're as smart as you say you might be, we could be done within a few hours." Malfoy smirked, turning just enough for Harry to see it. "Prove me wrong, Potter."

XxX

Harry wasn't sure if he had proved anything by it exactly, but he did manage to get through all of the information Malfoy wanted learnt within those next few hours. By the time night had just begun to set, he was thankfully looking at Malfoy's house from over his shoulder. Watching it disappear through the back window of a cab. For the night, he was through with this strange charade. He was expected back early the next morning, of course. But in that moment, his life was his own and it felt more refreshing than he could have imagined before.

"For Christ, Harry," Hermione exclaimed the instant he finally walked back through their apartment door. "I've been worrying about you. Where have you been?"

He calmly set his overnight bag down by the door. "I left you a note."

Scrambling up off the sofa, Hermione practically stomped over to the kitchen counter where Harry had left said note the night before. "'Out for the night. See you tomorrow.' Yeah, that's incredibly reassuring. Where. Were You?"

"Visiting my parents…," Harry supplied, pointedly avoiding her eyes as he sloughed off the stress of the day. And knowing all too well that he was going to have to be real with her about Malfoy any minute.

"You know you can tell me if you were on a date or something. Right? You don't have to lie."

Unable to stop himself, a sharp laugh burbled up from Harry's throat. "Jesus, fuck, Hermione! I really was visiting my parents." He sank into the spot on the couch she had recently vacated. It was a different kind of home than the one he'd grown up in. Their apartment smelt like Hermione's hair gel and had the kind of comforting warmth his parents' house never did these days. He loved both places, but sometimes it did feel good to escape to a place he could call his own. Their own. "Mum's not doing well…."

In half a second, Hermione dropped the anger and followed him into sitting. "Oh, Harry…. I'm sorry. You should have called me. I would have come with."

"It was sort of a last-minute trip," Harry said to his hands. The truth was right there, ready to come pouring out. After the events of that day, he was honestly ready to let it out and find some sort of comfort. "I, uh…. I came into some money yesterday and thought they could use some of it…."

"Came into some money?" Hermione shifted beside him. She was clearly struggling between concern and her need to know. "More than what you left with your note?"

"A bit more, yeah… About…five-thousand pounds, to be exact…."

When Harry told his dad, James reacted with a smile and a laugh. He encouraged him to be smart about this transaction, but in no way made to stop him. Harry was an adult, he'd said, and as an adult he had to navigate the 'weird' things however he thought appropriate. James and Lily had always been lax like that.

Hermione had never been lax like that. She knew what was best and she certainly made sure to impart her overwhelming amount of wisdom. "You've done something stupid again, haven't you?"

It was instantly easy to tell that Harry was guilty. Against his own will, his head bowed and his cheeks flushed a deep red. He couldn't deny it even if he tried. His body had already given him away. "I haven't quite decided yet if it's stupid. But I'm sure you'll determine it is."

"Out with it, then," Hermione sighed. She already had that look. She was already judging him. She was already sure that she was going to be right in the end and he would be wrong.

"I may be…fake dating a guy for money," Harry said on a rush and winced, waiting for the recourse.

Hermione's response was quiet. "Like…like Vivian Ward?" Soft. Like she didn't quite believe what she'd heard.

With a nervous chuckle, Harry shook his head slowly back and forth. "No…no, I have no plans to sleep with him." Hermione could have argued that Richard Gere's character really hadn't planned for that, either, in the beginning. But she let him realize this on his own it seemed, merely folding her arms across her chest in disapproval. "He had an ad in the lonely hearts. I might have answered it. Apparently this guy is trying to piss of his parents, or something. And I have…no direction in my life currently so I am the best candidate for the job. It's highly insulting and…a weirdly decent way to make money while I'm in-between jobs."

For the longest moment, Hermione just nodded. She'd seen her best friend through a million stupid mistakes. This was nowhere near as dumb as the time he stole his dad's motorcycle and crashed it only a street away from his house. Or…maybe it was about the same level. He could see all the gears turning behind her eyes. She was worrying about everything he hadn't even thought to think of yet. "You don't even know this man," she said quietly. "What's his name? I need to know his name if you're going to end up dead." Her voice steadily rose in pitch, eventually ending in a bit of a shriek. To accompany it, she was once again on her feet. Pacing. Fretting.

"He's just some rich prick," Harry said, relaxing back and throwing his feet up in violent contrast to her ram-straight posture. "Draco Malfoy is his name." Hermione halted her steps abruptly. "What?"

"He's not just some rich prick," she stressed before resuming her frantic path back and forth across the carpet. "The Malfoy family name is like a ghostly threat in parliament. I really don't know how to explain it. You hear whispers of the name and suddenly…bad things follow…. The family gets their way no matter what. And when they do…. It's not good, Harry. Classism, racism, homophobia…dirty rumors about where their money even comes from…."

"Well, good thing I'm not joining their political bandwagon," Harry joked back, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling slipping into his belly.

"Harry, this is serious."

With a sigh to cover his doubts, Harry stood and pulled Hermione from her daze. Literally. He grabbed ahold of her hands, jerking her towards him and into a crushing, swaying hug. "It's just acting," he said gently in her ear, her frantic breaths filling his own. "It's just one week of free reign to annoy the smug, well-to-dos on their own dime."

"A whole week?"

"Yes, a whole week. And I will come out of this ten-thousand pounds richer and probably have a great story to tell your kids one day." Hermione snorted a watery laugh. He felt tears on his shoulder. She really was worried. "Listen," he whispered, pushing her back to wipe away the wet streaks on her cheeks, "I'll call you every night I'm there. Just to check in, so you know I'm not dead in a ditch. I know what you're worried about. I don't think this bloke would bring a guy to meet his parents if he thought they might do something to harm him. He's a git, but I don't think he's down with murder. Besides, he's also a bit of a ponce. If they were the gay-killing type…they probably would've offed him by now. Right?"

The more Harry thought about it, the more nervous he was really becoming. Especially after what Hermione had told him about the family. He wasn't the type to be irrationally afraid, really. He considered himself a pretty brave person. But he couldn't deny the gnawing at his conscience. He couldn't silence the torrential waterfall of what-if's now flashing through his mind at breakneck speeds. "Everything will be fine. I'm sure it'll all just be a laugh," Harry restressed, more probably for his sake now than Hermione's. "Look, I have to get packed and be back at Malfoy's house early tomorrow morning. Want to help me pick out my most 'peasanty' clothes for my week with the supposed leaders of the intolerance movement?"