A/N: Sorry this took so long to get up. First I was away for the weekend and then FFnet was having all sorts of problems.

"Hey, Harry, come on in."

Harry made his way uneasily into Tonks' office, stepping over piles of strewn paperwork.

"What's on your mind?" she said tiredly, pushing her hair back. It was the same mouse-brown it had been since Lupin died, but lately there had been occasional splashes of color; violet, bubble-gum pink, subdued navy blue.

Harry's eyes lingered on the picture of Teddy on her desk. "How old is he?" he said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and met Tonks' dark, twinkling eyes.

"Five months in September," Tonks said quietly. "Wotcher, Harry?"

"Er, well, I was wondering if there are any positions for... a friend of mine."

"In the Auror office?" Tonks said, swiveling around in her chair and flicking her wand. A stack of forms landed on her lap. "Are they qualified?"

"No, not here," Harry said quickly. "Listen, uh, it's your cousin."

Tonks paused, mouthing cousin to herself, then burst out laughing. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Shh," Harry said uncomfortably. "Yeah."

"So it's that kind of 'friend'," she said, grinning at him and reaching out for a piece of paper that had gotten lodged in a shelf and in the process knocking a stack of folders over. "Whoops," Tonks said sheepishly, waving her wand again. "Okay, Harry, I'll do my best, but Malfoys don't really... work. I don't think there's a job where you get to stare at yourself in a mirror half the day and order people around the rest of it -- not here at the Ministry, anyway."

Harry smiled at her. "I really appreciate it, Tonks."

"You moved into Grimmauld Place, right?" Tonks said. "Need any help with the cleanup?"

"I probably will eventually," Harry said. "Right now I'm just trying to get the house elf heads off the walls and stop Sirius's mum screaming at me every time I walk in the door. See you tomorrow, Tonks."

Tonks nodded at him and he left.

"Oi, Malfoy," Harry called out from the Cinderella-drops-her-shoe-at-midnight-esque staircase of Grimmuald Place.

Draco appeared in the shadows of one of the doorways. "Yes?"

"I'm home."

"Really, Potter? I hadn't noticed."

"Good afternoon to you too," Harry said, grinning at Draco and grabbing him around the waist. "Get anything done today?"

"What would you have me do?" Draco said, raising his eyebrows as Harry pulled him into the nearest bedroom and onto the bed.

"Clean?" Harry suggested as Draco stroked the fine black hair on his arm idly.

Draco snorted dismissively. "What did you do today?" he murmured. "Disarm some people to death?"

"That's not funny," Harry said, even though he was laughing. "No, I studied for my next practical exam... disarmed Ron to death a little bit..." He pulled Draco a bit closer and pressed his lips against his cornsilk-colored hair.

"And?" Draco said, kissing Harry forcefully, rolling him over on the bed and straddling him.

"And," Harry said, grinning broadly as Draco slid his hands into Harry's pants, pulling his shirt out and unbuttoning it from the bottom. "I think you need something to do."

"Other than this?" Draco purred, his tongue gently probing Harry's collarbone.

"Yeah," Harry said, shifting around on the bed and sitting up. "Well, no, you can keep doing that, but I think you need a job."

Draco sat up as well, looking at Harry with mild interest.

"It's not healthy to hang around here all day, is all."

"I don't hang around here all day, Potter."

"Well, whatever you do," Harry said. "And I need to go to Gringotts. I'm running low on Knuts. You want to come with me?"

"If you insist," Draco huffed. He waited a moment and then said, "I'm nearly broke after paying off Borgin to keep his mouth shut."

"If anyone looks at us sideways, tell me," Harry said. "I need to practice my hexes."

"What was that again? Ah yes," the wizened goblin named Clawhorn said. "The Malfoy vault."

He paused for a moment and adjusted his glasses. Harry drummed his fingers against the underside of the marble counter. Draco tilted his head at the goblin with that haughty, brooding look Harry suspected he practiced in the mirror.

"Are you Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"You're denied access to this vault," Clawhorn said shortly. "Your key?"

"Excuse me?" Draco demanded.

"Your key, sir," Clawhorn repeated dourly, still holding his hand out.

"Malfoy, give him the key," Harry said, turning to face the rest of Gringotts.

Draco seemed hovering at the surface of discomposure, but he handed the key to Clawhorn.

"And you, sir?"

"Vault six-eighty-seven," Harry said, slapping his key down on the counter. As Clawhorn was taking it to the magnifying glass for inspection, Draco slipped over to Harry.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Malfoy, use your head for something other than a hatrack," Harry said tiredly, rubbing his temples. "Mummy and Daddy cut you off."

"This is --"

"Bollocks? Yeah, take it up with them," Harry said, as Clawhorn motioned for them to follow. "Come on." He ducked down and whispered in Draco's ear, "If that doesn't work out... don't worry."

He dropped a quick kiss on the side of Draco's head and grinned when Draco only batted him away half-heartedly.