"I don't feel like going out tonight," Draco announced. He was met with shocked silence. He scowled. "Despite what you might think, I'm not a complete party animal."

"Er… What did you want to do?" Carter asked. Draco's life consisted of a day of business and a night of pleasure. What was there to do at home?

"I think I'll cook for all of you," Draco said decisively, striding towards the kitchen.

The men gaped at each other, dumbfounded. "What?" Harry muttered, going into the kitchen. He found Draco staring at his pantry. "You alright, Malfoy?"

Draco frowned at Harry. "I'm not allowed to cook?" he asked.

"I just never saw you as the cooking kind," Harry said, leaning against the counter. The rest of the men walked in cautiously. "Need some help?" Harry asked.

"What do you know about cooking?"

"Absolutely nothing."

Draco smirked. "You can make the pasta, then. Kind of hard to fuck that up."

"You'd be surprised," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

Dinner was surprisingly interesting. The stories Wes had to tell were enough to make the men choke and laugh. Dane supplemented them with his horrific anecdotes. Kyler gasped at everything, causing Harry to bit his lip to stop from scoffing. Carter maintained the peace whenever differences in opinion occurred, mostly between Harry and Draco. They had spaghetti bolognese with white wine – a simple dinner with the sophistication Draco seemed to add to everything he touched. Carter surprised everyone with his chocolate mousse he whipped up in a matter of minutes. All in all, it was a night of surprises. Everyone was in good spirits afterwards.

Harry had the first bedroom shift. He walked up the stairs with Draco. "That was nice, Malfoy. Thanks for the food," he said.

"You're welcome." Draco entered his room while Harry took the seat outside. "You've changed, Potter," Draco said, his voice floating out of the door that was still open a few inches.

"It's been ten years," Harry answered.

"How come you cut your hair?"

Harry laughed in astonishment. "How come you cut yours?" he asked in response.

"It was bothersome."

"Same."

Draco pulled out his pajamas. "That's a lie, actually," he said.

"I was lying as well…"

Draco smiled. "I looked too much like my father."

"Me too…"

Draco froze, frowning. "Oh…"

"Surprised?" Harry asked, looking at the painting in front of him.

"Yes."

"You have changed. Aren't you being a little too honest with me?" Harry said sarcastically.

Draco shrugged on his shirt. "Hmm… So are you. Figured I'd extend the same courtesy," he said. Harry stayed quiet, as he was preoccupied with his thoughts. He didn't notice Draco poke his head out. "Come on in."

Harry looked up, startled. "I'm sorry?" Draco opened the door wider, beckoning Harry to enter. "Why?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"It's kind of awkward talking with a door between us, isn't it?" Draco left it at that, disappearing into his room.

Harry stared at the open door for a few seconds before following Draco in. His astonishment knew no bounds when he ran his eyes over the room. "Wow…" he breathed. "Your room is enormous!"

"Custom made for me," Draco said.

The bed was the least of Harry's interests. An ornate desk stood by the large bay windows. Shelves filled with books, potions, and other curios were integrated into the room. It was regal, mixed Persian rugs and paintings that gave the air of a palace. "I'd never want to leave if this were my room," Harry said, running his fingers over the spines.

"Most days I don't want to leave," Draco confessed. "But business won't take care of itself, right?"

"Who are we kidding?" Harry asked, turning around. "You have enough money to last you until you're four hundred."

Draco smiled, climbing onto his bed. "True. You have somewhat the same, don't you?"

"I could live fifty years with my money, yes."

"Planning on living longer than that?" Draco laughed.

"Hopefully not," Harry muttered. "You have so much stuff!"

"It's like you've turned into your thirteen year old self, Potter."

"I've just never seen anything this grand since Hogwarts, that's all," Harry justified. "I don't even know what half these things are."

"I tend to hoard. So most of this is junk."

They fell silent, Harry making a tour around the room and Draco staring up at his canopy. "Can you tell me about Blaise?"

Draco blinked and then picked his head up to look at Harry. The Auror had his back to Draco. Draco lay back down, frowning slightly. "Um… sure," he said. "He was one of the only people who wasn't scared of me. He wasn't scared to talk to me about things. He asked me things too. A confidante." Then he clicked his tongue derisively. "Of course, it was bloody difficult to put up with his comments. We got into more than a few fights. He has a– had a loud mouth on him. He kept telling me that once we got out of the War alive, we'd be able to live our dreams. His dream was to be filthy rich and not have to work a day in his life. Guess it didn't quite work out that way. Sixth year came around and… we lost touch. First and last best friend."

Harry faced Draco, searching his expression. "First and last… Sounds depressing," he murmured.

"What can you tell me about him?" Draco asked.

Harry approached the bed and sat down on it. "When was the last time you saw him?" he asked instead of replying.

"The War."

"Hmm… He had always unnerved me, you know? He was so… rude to everyone. Condescending," Harry said, remembering Hogwarts days.

"Even worse than I was?" Draco asked.

"Somehow, yes. You would glare. He'd look like it was too much of a bother to even glance at me."

"Then how'd you meet?"

"He wanted out of Azkaban, so he gave us information. I was the one who interrogated him," Harry explained.

Draco's brows shot up. "Interrogated, huh?"

"He was kind of formidable. We spent a couple hours a day for seven days in a room with no distractions. I asked questions, he answered them, and I wrote them down."

"And…" Draco murmured, urging Harry to continue.

Harry shifted in bed, bringing his legs up and sitting cross-legged with his back leaning against the bedpost. "And… he kind of jumped me on the last day."

Draco shot up, his mouth gaping open. "You did not just say that!"

"It's true…"

"Do you even know what that means?" Draco asked, narrowing his eyes.

Harry looked unimpressed by the joke. "Anyway, we didn't tell anyone. But we kept meeting. Weeks turned to months, which turned to a year."

"You fell for him…"

"I can't fall for Ginny, but I can fall for Blaise damned Zabini," Harry said, smiling. "His words, not mine."

"He was happy."

"We were happy," Harry said with a nod.

"I'm glad," Draco said without thought.

"And I saw him dead."

Draco's heart dropped at a nauseating speed. "What?"

"We were one of the first on scene. We were handed the case months ago. There were three other victims, unsolved cases. He was the fourth."

"Oh god," Draco breathed. "How did you…"

"I almost didn't," Harry said, staring at the clean green sheets. "I remember that day. But I can't remember the couple of days after that." He looked up at Draco. "No one knows, okay?"

"You should tell them," Draco insisted. "I can't imagine what– how difficult it must have been."

"Understatement," Harry said, smiling humorlessly. He looked up, blinking at the canopy. "That's strange," he said, pointing.

"Hmm… Mother was always overindulgent," Draco said. The black canopy was dotted with lights, resembling the night sky. "It's like sleeping outside."

Harry shifted, laying on his back and staring up. "Overindulgent, huh?"

"Mine was, yes," Draco murmured, following Harry's suit and laying down.

"When I saw Blaise like that… it changed things. My perspective on things."

"How so?"

Harry shrugged, watching the stars. "I used to take things for granted. I know I took him for granted. It's probably why I was so affected by his death. I just need to find out who did it. I need to find out why they chose Blaise. Out of so many, why him? Maybe there was something I could have done." He quickly wiped away the tear that was running down to his hair. "I think that wine's getting to my head…"

"Did you really not have to take your NEWTs?"

Harry laughed, turning his head to look at Draco. "I really didn't."

"Hmm…"

"Since I fought in the War, Kingsley gave us a go at Auror training without passing our exams. Most didn't make it past the first couple weeks. I didn't have anything better to do than stick with it."

"You were never one to take the easy way out," Draco noted. "And guess what?"

"What?"

"I have Harry bloody Potter in my bed."

Harry snorted. "One for the books," he muttered.

"The wine is getting to me too."

At two, Kyler yawned and trudged up the stairs. He stopped when he found the chair empty and the door open. He frowned, pulling out his wand. None of the alarms had gone off. He nudged the door open with his foot. "Oh…"

Draco looked up from his book, then down at Harry who was curled up on top of the covers. "He fell asleep," Draco whispered.

"I– um… O– Okay. I'll be– out here," Kyler stammered, backing out the room and closing the door. He blinked at it for a long moment before clapping his hand to his mouth to keep from laughing hysterically.

Draco looked down at Harry again. His fists were clenched and his knees were pulled up towards his chest. Draco waved his wand, causing a blanket to float over to the bed from the closet. He laid it over Harry. The man stirred, cracking his eyes open. He glanced up at Draco. "Hmm… thanks," he mumbled, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

"Goodnight," Draco said, getting under his own sheets as his eyes threatened to fall shut any moment.

Harry stretched languidly. He ran his hand across the warm chest next to him. He lifted his head and placed it atop the soft heart. He sighed, holding on tightly. He opened his eyes, unfocused and bleary. Then he frowned. Blaise was dead. He scrambled away, only to be stopped with a hand on his wrist.

"You'll fall off," Draco said, indicating behind Harry.

"Shit…"

Draco pulled Harry forward so he wouldn't end up tumbling onto the floor. "Don't be embarrassed."

"What time is it?" Harry asked in horror.

"Around noon."

"Fuck."

"Thought I'd take your advice. Not leaving the room," Draco said with a soft smile. Harry tried to untangle himself from the sheets, mortified. "Stop," Draco added, holding Harry still. "Don't worry about it, okay?" he said firmly.

Harry nodded hesitantly. "Your schedule…"

"I'm Malfoy. To hell with schedules," Draco said.

Harry dropped his face in his hands, wanting to die. "I fell asleep!"

"I stayed awake for you, if it's any consolation."

"I am so sorry."

"I already said it's okay, didn't I?"

Harry wiped the sleep out of his eyes. "I'm usually quite good at keeping awake," he said.

"Yeah. You need to be good at sleep too, not just keeping awake."

Harry made a disgruntled sound, breathing in deeply. He couldn't remember having any nightmares the night before. "I talk in my sleep."

"Not last night," Draco said.

"Hmm…"

"The pasta was a bit much with that wine. Food induced coma. It'll wear off in a bit."

Harry stilled, cocking his head to one side. Then he frowned, looking at Draco. "Oh, shit!" he swore breathlessly, struggling out of bed. "I have to– I– I'll be back. Um… don't go anywhere." He rushed out of the room, nearly bowling over Dane, who was looking a little too smug. Harry held off on any sharp words, taking three steps at a time to reach the foyer.

Ron and Katie were pouring over notes while Anthony and Aldric were talking heatedly when Harry burst in, panting. "Draught of Living Death. That's what they used," Harry said, panting. "Except, instead of using asphodel, they used nightshade. Bittersweet nightshade. Paralysis."

Aldric was alert as he heard this. "But… no trace," he murmured.

"No, there isn't because the victim isn't under deep sleep. He is still metabolizing the potion. It wears off quickly. Which is how he dies," Harry said, hurrying to his desk. "He is made to drink it. He loses control of his limbs, which is why we didn't see any bruising on his limbs. The killers didn't need to hold –"

"Killers?" Ron squeaked.

"Again, just a theory," Harry said quickly. "Something Detective Blake talked about. Victim 10 looked like two men had worked on him. And I was thinking…"

"Who?"

"Lestrange brothers."

"Wow," Anthony breathed, running out the room.

"It's just a theory!" Harry shouted after him. Then he turned to the rest of the team. "Anyway, they cut when the victim is paralyzed. But he is still conscious. Which is why he dies, because once the potion wears off, he feels the pain. The loss of blood and the shock of the pain kill him. Does that make sense?"

"What happened to you?" Katie asked, roving her eyes up and down Harry.

"Just woke up," Harry mumbled, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Food induced coma," he added, smiling. "So, I have to go back now. Um, see if you can talk to the medical examiner about that, will you? I don't know if there is a test he can do, but it's worth a shot."

Aldric nodded in affirmation. "Good work," Katie said, scribbling down Harry's words furiously.

A few minutes later, Harry trudged into the manor, tuckered out from the excitement. He bumped into Wes, who was wiggling his brows. "Nothing happened," Harry said.

"Oh, I'm sure," said Wes, nudging and winking.

Harry sighed in frustration, climbing the stairs to get to Draco's room. Dane stood by the door. He looked up when Harry approached. "You can go, if you want," Harry said.

"Okay," Dane murmured, not questioning Harry's suggestion.

Harry knocked on the door. "Decent in there?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He entered to find Draco still in bed. He became disoriented as his memory flashed before him. Blaise liked to stay in bed even after he woke up. He said he was trying to make himself dream, but this time he could stay in control of how the dream ended. He would be on his side, eyes closed and lips pulled up as he made up his dream. He always said that Harry was in all of them. "Harry…"

"Potter."

Harry jerked out of his reverie. "Sorry," he stuttered.

"So, what was that all about?" Draco asked.

Harry smiled, shrugging. "I have moments of… thought. I had one of those when you were talking. Thank you, by the way."

"You're welcome?"

"What did you want to do today, considering I wasted half of it for you?"

Draco shifted, wrapping his arm around his pillow absently. "Nothing," he said.

"Really?"

"Yes. I feel like doing absolutely nothing today," Draco said in a firm tone.

"Then what do you need me to do?" Harry asked.

Draco simpered, turning onto his back. "Good question," he said. "You can be my Auror bodyguard for the day."

Harry arched a brow derisively. "How magnanimous of you…"

"Isn't it?" Draco gestured Harry over with a twitch of his finger. Harry scowled, sauntering towards the bed. He froze when Draco shifted, making room. Draco noticed Harry's hesitation, but didn't say anything. He went back to looking up at the canopy that had put Harry to sleep last night. Harry sat down stiffly, fumbling with his phoenix wand. "How come you use that wand?" Draco asked.

Harry looked down at the slender holly. "It's mine, so I use it," he said.

"Why not the Elder?"

"Not mine."

Draco murmured incoherently, turning on his side to face Harry's profile. "I lost my wand, you know?" he said.

Harry frowned, looking at Draco. "What?" he asked.

"In that Fiendfyre. My wand was caught in it."

"I had no idea."

"Hmm…" Draco shrugged. "It was your wand, I suppose."

Harry stowed his wand away, nodding. "Confusing, isn't it?"

"Yes," Draco replied. "Like it was supposed to happen." Harry leaned his back against the headboard, kicking his shoes off and bringing his legs up onto the bed. Draco hid his smile, staring at Harry's downturned face. "You cut your hair so you won't look like your father. Why?"

Harry didn't look surprised by the question. "I'm not my father," he said.

"No one said you were."

"Everyone thinks I am."

Draco sighed, brushing a patch of pillow smooth. "What's wrong with being your father? At least he's not like mine," he said.

Harry smiled faintly. "Nothing wrong with being Dad. I've been trying to be him for almost all my life. I just realized that I can't be him," he confessed. "So I'll try and be me."

"You're such a priss."

Harry laughed, finally relaxing. "When did you turn into a considerate prick?" he asked, looking at Draco.

"You aren't that thick, are you?" Draco asked, stretching.

Harry shook his head. "I'm just… trying to ignore it," he said.

"Ignore what?"

Harry moved to face Draco completely. "Ignore you flirting with me," he deadpanned.

Draco grinned with a half-wink. "Glad you noticed," he said.

"Even Dane's noticed," Harry said, raising his brows.

"Is it working?"

"Do you know how crazy this sounds? Draco Malfoy is having a go at Harry Potter, his arch nemesis. The man you hate with fury. Me. No, it's not working."

Draco chuckled. "I tend to do this with everybody. Is it freaking you out?" he asked.

"Yeah. A bit," Harry said snidely.

"You know, things would be a lot better now if you became my friend from the beginning," Draco said, blowing out a breath in frustration.

"Or worse."

"Or worse," Draco repeated.

"Are you trying to tell me that you want to be my friend? Because this is a really convoluted way of doing that," Harry said, trying not to laugh.

"I thought we were friends already," Draco said boldly.

Harry went back to leaning against the headboard. "Okay… Guess we are."

They sat in pregnant silence for many minutes, lost in thought. Draco was the one to break it. "But just think about it. We'll be the hottest couple in London. Good-looking. Rich. Formid–" He was interrupted with a flying pillow smacking into his face.

Harry frowned at Ron thoughtfully. "Malfoy asked me out. On a scale of one to ten, how weird is that?" he asked. The way Ron's face fell was answer enough. "Okay, guess it's pretty weird."

Harry felt Draco's eyes on him as he handed out the schedule for the day. He felt Draco's eyes on him as they walked to the meetings. He felt Draco's eyes on him as they escorted him to lunch. He finally became fed up of Draco staring at him. On the way back from the lunch date, Harry met Draco's gaze. He didn't get what he had been expecting. Draco smirked at him. "I was wondering how long you were planning on ignoring me," he said.

"Subtlety is lost on me," Harry responded.

"I want you to arrange a meeting with Father."

Harry blinked at Draco. "Huh?" he asked lamely.

"What's there to understand?" Draco asked. "I want to see my father."

"Oh…" Draco had never tried to contact his father in over ten years. "Why?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

"None of your business," Draco replied characteristically.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever your highness wants," he muttered.

Carter and Dane had to clamp their mouth to stop from admonishing Harry while Kyler and Wes had to clamp their mouth to stop from laughing at the bickering men.

"I'll be out here," Harry said, waving Draco into the interrogation room.

"My personal Auror bodyguard. Who would have imagined, huh?" Draco said, nudging the guard. He got no response. He rolled his eyes and walked into the room.

"Sorry about him," Harry apologized.

"Some of them never grow up, sir."

Harry stifled his guffaw because Lucius was nearing them. The prisoner nodded at the Auror before walking in after his son. The guard followed and did his preliminary charms before stepping out of the room and closing the door.

Draco stared at his father dispassionately, leaning against the far wall while the older Malfoy sat down. "I want you to remove Potter from my protective detail," Draco said.

"Why would I do that?" Lucius asked.

"He can do more with his time instead of babysitting me," Draco said.

"Why are you talking to me? Why not just talk to the Head Auror?"

"I want you to continue giving them information even if Potter isn't protecting me," Draco explained.

"Hmm…"

"That is all." Draco pushed off the wall and walked towards the door.

"Wait. Draco…"

Draco paused. "What?" he asked.

"How are you?" Lucius asked.

"Really, Father?" Draco muttered, turning to face Lucius. "You want me to answer that?"

"Yes."

"Mother's dead and you're here. How do you think I'm doing?"

Lucius didn't answer, looking away. Draco wrenched the door open and slammed it shut, walking away. Harry looked bewildered, blinking at Draco's retreating figure. Then he snapped out of it, running after his charge. "Wait, Malfoy," Harry said, stopping Draco in his tracks. "What happened?"

"You are no longer required on the security team, Harry," Draco said.

"Oh…"

"Harry's back!" Ron crowed.

"Yay!" Katie exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

"Hey," Aldric said, waving.

"Fucking bastard!" Anthony swore, throwing his quill down.

"Gosh, you sure know how to make me feel welcome, Anthony," Harry said, laughing as he walked to his desk.

"Not you, dumbass. This darned list gets longer every time I look at it!"

"List of…"

"Possible victims."

"But really, what are we supposed to do with a list of possible victims?" Harry asked.

"Robards wants one 'as thorough as your Defense Against the Dark Arts essay'. He thinks I'm a child!" Anthony said, breaking the nib of his quill in his anger.

"Anything about the nightshade?" Harry asked Aldric.

"Tests were inconclusive," Katie answered.

Aldric handed Harry a small piece of parchment. "Shops zat sell zi plant," he said triumphantly.

"Only five?" Harry remarked.

"Worth a shot, right?" Katie said.

"Heck yeah!"