∷65∷
"Harry! You're here!"
The excited greeting made him rethink about the possibility of the day turning out to be a good one—he was accustomed to a large greeting.
And then he heard the next remark. "Mr. Wood! Harry's here! Can I go on the broom first, please?"
"Oh, brilliant," sighed Harry, who searched the room for Hermione. If she wanted to discuss the hearing, they likely wouldn't have time that day. The witch appeared beside him, looking more frazzled than she usually did, and said, "You need to talk to him, Harry. He's got the team lined up outside with brooms."
He noticed how neatly the room seemed to be lined up with kids—he spied Connor in the corner, who wasn't immune to the exciting idea of flying with a Quidditch player.
"Er, Oliver, I need to speak to you for a moment," he said, his hand raised, feeling the stares of everyone else on him.
When the man came over to join him in one of the cluttered classrooms, shutting the door behind him, he felt the familiar tension that only Oliver seemed to elicit. "Look, I really don't think it's a good idea to be moving this fast. I mean, Hermione hasn't seen the Manor yet either, and I want to be sure their safety is in mind when we do move. Maybe we can try the flying when they've gotten there, but I don't think it's practical in terms of transportation—"
"Hermione saw it this morning," Oliver said abruptly, "and flying will be fine, we'll get them far enough from—"
"From London to the Malfoy Manor?" snapped Harry, "Are you insane?"
Oliver visibly bristled, "We weren't going to fly there the whole way, just take them out for a spin,"
"Then I see no reason in why it can't wait," Harry said firmly, "We simply have too many things to consider in a move like this, theatrics should be the least of your worries."
The man paused for a moment, looking at him. "I can't say I agree, but it is your call, Harry. What do you want to do?"
The green-eyed man sighed. Maybe today wouldn't be so difficult after all. "Regular transportation is safest, because I don't know how safe magical transportation is. If we can borrow a bus, I think that'd be best—it'd be easier to keep an eye on everyone. Wiltshire isn't too far, but I'm not sure how close we can get to the Manor in it."
"A bus?" Oliver echoed, furrowing his brows, "I reckon we could try the Knight Bus, see if they'll do a special trip."
Harry thought it was the smartest thing he'd heard Oliver Wood say in a long time.
∷66∷
With their plans finally underway, Harry and Hermione found themselves busy with preparations for their two-hour trip to Wiltshire. Though the Knight Bus didn't typically take appointments, Hermione managed to schedule a pick-up for later that week. It often left Harry working until later in the evening, and though Pansy's trial was not until the next week, Draco steadfastly held to his belief that he move into the renovated Manor as soon as possible.
Harry tried to push it off for as long as he could, but Draco had grown accustomed to his excuses and showed up Wednesday night, the night before the official move, at the Centre, taking him on an impromptu excursion. "I'm treating you to dinner," he said, "and it's impolite to say no."
He didn't say, of course, that the dinner would be in the Manor, nor did he mention the small fact that he'd taken the liberty of making up a room for him. Predictably, it wasn't the surprise he had been expecting.
Harry looked at the bedroom without feigning cheer. It really only had the necessary things for one night—a bed, a change of clothes, and toiletries—but it was a sign of a change he wasn't looking forward to.
"I'll stay with you tonight if you do," Malfoy finally suggested after a long silence.
"Fine," Harry murmured, "but I hope you know that doesn't mean I think this is a good idea. I don't know how you got Ron to let you stay there."
"Trust me, you've made that clear, and you've forgotten how convincing Granger can be," said the slender man, shaking his head. Holding his hand out and clasping it with the other's, he led him out into the dining hall, where the magnificent black oak had been replaced with a mahogany dining set.
Harry's mood had been lightened somewhat when he saw the effort that had been put into the meal—candles were lit and dishes set out. He realized, in that moment, how little they had seen each other over the last few days—and he felt bad for acting like such a prat earlier.
"I can still get them to change some things, you know," said the wizard, looking at the Manor's décor again, "It does sort of look like a Gryffindor threw up over it."
The man shrugged, appearing to be unruffled by the idea. "It's not my place anymore, Harry. Don't worry about it."
Knowing it bothered him more than he let on, Harry resolved to speak to Oliver about it tomorrow. Tonight, though—tonight was theirs.
"Connor was asking about you again, today. If I stay here it means you're required to visit us both," said Harry lightly, with a smile.
"I think that can be arranged, Potter," drawled the blonde, "provided Weasley and Granger don't keep me on a curfew."
"Sneaking out shouldn't be too hard, I'll lend you my invisibility cloak. Ron sleeps like a rock, anyway."
"How about sneaking in?" asked the Slytherin with a smirk.
"Depends," Harry said thoughtfully, a smirk playing on his own lips, "on whether or not you intend on staying the night."
"I suppose you'll have to convince me."
"I think that can be arranged, Malfoy," responded the Gryffindor, who felt markedly better about their temporary living situation. Harry supposed Draco could convince him to do nearly anything—but he would never tell the Slytherin that.
He'd never let it go.
∷67∷
Scrimgeour greeted Ron and Draco with considerable cheer the next day. He'd been in a foul mood upon finding out that the soonest Pansy's trial could occur was next week, and spent a considerable amount of time implying just how much Draco should be preparing for it by stopping by the office numerous times to 'check on them'.
Today, however, he remarked, "I've just heard from the development team down at the Centre. Apparently they're moving tonight, so we can begin our investigations tomorrow!"
Draco wished very much to correct the man's statement—that there was no team, Harry and Hermione were doing most of the work, and then begin a critical commentary on just how wrong it was that they had to move at night with a group of kids prone to breaking light fixtures at slight upsets.
Wisely, however, he knew to keep quiet. The Ministry unfortunately was at an advantage again, having found out about him and Harry's relationship.
Though not much had been said yet, at least in any official capacity, the rumor had gone around quite fast—by the time it got to Ron, the story had been twisted to paint the blonde as a wizard with both the capacity to emotionally manipulate people but also develop brand new spells at the drop of a hat.
The Auror told him to not let it bother him, as they didn't know what they were talking about and that in a few days a new scandal would occur, making him old news. The Slytherin didn't believe him.
"I'll expect a day-to-day report on this, Auror Weasley," reminded the Minister, and though his polite smile didn't waver, Draco saw the twinge of horror in his eyes at the idea of daily paperwork.
After he'd left, the paler man remarked, "And you wanted to work here?"
∷68∷
With their plans for transportation underway, Harry had a good feeling about the whole ordeal. Though he hadn't planned to move this fast, the Knight Bus was much easier to manage than they'd expected—Oliver had sent some of his teammates down to the Manor to wait as they gathered the last-minute items they needed. Planning for it was crucial, but even Hermione seemed confident in how things were progressing. The kids had been disappointed initially that the flying had been cancelled, but seemed slightly consoled by the fact that it would occur on a later date.
Getting the kids on the bus wasn't a problem—they were all genuinely excited for it, despite how late it was for them. It was about an hour into the trip that it had become an issue—the novelty of an enchanted bus had worn off, and as they had their meals already, there was little entertainment.
Hermione tried a variety of games—"I Spy" wasn't the most fun in the pitch-black of the night, and the group promptly disintegrated when one of the younger girls began throwing a temper tantrum, resulting in a domino effect of howling children.
"Your turn," said the witch, massaging her head.
Stanley Shunpike glared at Harry with pure venom—savior of the Wizarding World or not, there was apparently no excuse for misbehaving children, especially a group of them at midnight.
Harry sighed, envious of Ron and Draco, who were likely asleep at this hour. After talking it over with Ron, Hermione decided she would join Harry and stay there for a few nights until everything was settled. They still needed to find full-time caretakers for the Manor grounds and assistance with its residents, and Hermione worried about the unexpected problems that could come from simply adjusting to a new place. It simply made her feel better, she said, to be there in case anything went wrong.
Harry thought it just meant she didn't think he could handle it without her, but he also was grateful for her help and kept it to himself.
After a tumultuous second hour, they finally arrived at the Manor. Most of the Quidditch members had gone home for the night, but Oliver, Harvey, and his wife had stayed to wait for their arrival. Having a new place to look at, despite how exhausted they were, entailed much more work than they expected—and Connor, characteristically, had snuck off again, which began an uproar of, "If Connor doesn't have to go to bed, why do we have to?"
"Because Draco won't surprise you tomorrow if you aren't good and do as you're told," interjected a silky voice, "So all of you, get to it."
Oliver was slightly surprised to see the overwhelming excitement that Draco's presence elicited—he had heard that the kids liked him, but privately never believed it until now. They swarmed around him, and the blonde man seemed to genuinely enjoy being there. The way Harry looked at him, however—that was what surprised him the most.
Harry Potter was in love with Draco Malfoy—it was written all over his face.
Oliver had to admit to himself that if the youngest Malfoy could get the whole wizarding world's savior to fall in love with him—well, maybe he had changed, after all.
After Draco had found Connor in the library (which was the first place he had looked—strangely the boy had managed to find it immediately), and after promising to him repeatedly that he would be there the next night on the condition that he get some sleep, the Manor finally settled down in the early hours of morning.
Harry was curled next to him, chin resting against his bare shoulder. "You didn't tell me you'd be coming," he murmured sleepily.
"That is the idea of a surprise, Scarhead," teased the other man lightly, "Now shut up and go to sleep."
"Ron doesn't know you're here, does he?"
"Of course not. I don't know how you put up with him—all he ever wants to do is work. Which is strange, considering his academic performance."
"He likes being an Auror."
Draco turned to face the emerald-eyed man, "I came because I thought you'd want to know they're sending us out tomorrow—well, today."
"Wow, they can make haste when they want to." Harry muttered, tensing as he said so.
"I'll be fine, Harry."
"You'd better be," answered the other, "no one else could call me Scarhead and live."
"I'll never waste such exquisite privileges again."
"Good," he sighed, and, upon feeling Draco settle into a more comfortable position beside him, fell to sleep shortly after.