Summary:

Harry goes to France and can't speak a word of French, thank Merlin he gets saved by Draco, who is hotter than ever. I suck at writing summaries, can you tell?

Notes:

This is the first fic I'm writing after years of silence. I apologise in advance as I don't have a beta anymore, so all the mistakes are mine. It's going to be a multichapter and I've rated it as mature, because things are going to get steamy soon. I hope you'll enjoy it!

Chapter 1 – Cinderella fail

May, Grenoble, France

Travelling by Portkey has never been one of my favourite things in the world. If you add the fact that I have to do it for work and to go all the way to France for a whole week to pretend to attend the International Wizards Summit, it feels like a total nightmare.

I try to drink some water to get over the nausea caused by the portkey and make a useless attempt to sort out my hair and clothes. I have to take Polyjuice potion to attend the conference, as Amanda (the new head of the British Auror office) thought it was better if I attended in disguise. Less attention drawn to myself, she said, I'm carrying out a secret investigation after all and we don't want the Prophet to have the famous Harry Potter on the front page yet again. It still baffles me though how on earth they have managed to find the only muggle with impossible hair like my own.

I look at myself in the mirror and contemplate my new look: brown curly hair, light brown eyes and a so many freckles that this morning Ginny wondered if the muggle is secretly part of the Weasley clan.

I head to the hotel lobby with my suitcase and try to fish out the details for my booking from my bag.

"Bonjour, Monsieur. Je peux vous aider?", smiles the pretty girl at the reception.

"Sorry, I don't speak a word of French. Do you speak English?"

"Je suis vraiment désolée, mais je ne parle pas anglais."

Judging from the complete look of panic on her face, I've managed to find the only hotel receptionist who doesn't speak English. And why on earth do they have to hold the summit in a muggle hotel anyway?!

"My name is Charlie Crowdy and I have booked a double room for a week. I am attending the IWS conference.", I say, speaking as slowly as I can.

The girl still looks very confused and I sigh in frustration, when a familiar voice from behind me starts talking to the receptionist in perfect French. I turn to look at him, pale blue eyes meet my own, casting an appreciative look:

"Well, nice to meet you Charlie Crowdy, my name is Draco Malfoy, I assume you are attending the IWS for the UK too. The lady would like your passport and then she will hand you the key to your room."

I knew Malfoy was going to be here, but it's still quite a surprise to see him standing right next to me (and to realise Malfoy is actually much taller than I expected, Charlie Crowdy is even shorter than me).

"Nice to meet you, Malfoy", I say politely.

"You can call me Draco", adds Malfoy with a smile that looks suspiciously flirty.

I get my fake passport and let Malfoy handle the conversation with the receptionist, whilst I study him.

It has been nearly ten years since Voldemort's death. After the last great battle Ron and Hermione and I went back to Hogwarts to complete our studies. We moved back to a routine in a surreal way, it was like living someone else's life, after all we had been through. At the beginning it was like having an open wound, it felt like nothing was ever going to be the same, but somehow over the years we managed to get a job, get a house and move on with life. Ron and Hermione moved into Grimmauld Place (they needed a place after the war and neither of them could afford the rent in London). Ginny plays Quidditch professionally for the Holyhead Harpies, she's also in the national team, so she's often away. I started living with her in a little apartment after we finished school and we have been together ever since we were teenagers. Truth, we have grown so accustomed to each other that Ginny feels more like a sister, the passion's long gone. But she always tells me that I'm her rock and I feel like the Weasley clan is my real family.

I have come across Malfoy over the years, as we both work at the Ministry of Magic and we often run into each other on the way to work or on the way home, we have shared a few meetings, but we normally just nod at each other and exchange polite greetings, nothing more. Draco is working for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, so it makes sense that he is taking part in the summit.

He has grown into a tall, slim and elegant young man, his dark navy muggle suit and pale blue shirt look impeccable, as if they have just been washed and ironed and chosen by a fashion expert. I, on the contrary, look like I have just stepped out of a tumble drier, with my messy T-shirt and jeans. Malfoy's hair, still so pale and fairly short, is neatly parted on the left and looks so incredibly soft that I find myself wondering what it would feel like to run my fingers through it.

And how on earth does Malfoy always manage to smell so ridiculously nice? It's like an intoxicating smell, maybe it's some kind of potion that he has created himself, probably to seduce people and lure them into his bed.

"Right Charlie, this is the key to your room and I am delighted to say that it's right next to mine."

I snap out of my reverie. Wait, has Malfoy just winked at me?

"The summit starts tomorrow morning, but we have dinner reservation at the hotel restaurant together with the other two people who are attending with us and representing the U.K., shall I meet you there in half an hour? I have a feeling it's going to be a boring affair; these summits are normally attended by elderly wizards. It's a nice surprise to see a young face like yours."

It's quite odd to have Malfoy address me in such a friendly way, he normally just casts me furtive looks or stares at me with a funny look on his face and barely says anything. I feel like this is the most elaborate conversation we've had in a decade. And the previous one was definitely not this friendly, if I remember correctly…

"Err, ok. I will sort out my luggage and meet you there in 30 minutes. See you later, Malfoy."

"Draco, I insist", another charming smile.

"Ok, Draco…".

Malfoy was right, the other two delegates look like they are in their 90s at least. One is an elderly witch called Wilhelmina Brownwell, she's Malfoy's colleague and they seemed to know each other quite well. The other wizard, called Bartholomew Fitzgerald, is a sort of mummy with a huge moustache that curls up on the side, his eyebrows almost cover his blue eyes and he sounds really posh when he speaks. They both sit at the restaurant table contemplating their menus, the elderly wizard is using what looks like a magnifying lens to read the list of dishes on offer. Malfoy is sitting next the witch and smiles when he sees me, pointing at the empty chair next to me.

I introduce myself, glad that I'm under disguise so that I can avoid the usual popularity show and awkward questions. I really can't stand meeting new people and being asked a million questions about the famous Boy Who Lived.

"Good evening, I'm Charlie Crowdy and I am representing the British Aurors for the summit."

"Lovely to meet you, Charles. If that's your real name, that is. We all know that Aurors often come in disguise to these events, who knows who you really are. You could be the famous Harry Potter, for all we know!", says Bartholomew with a thunderous laughter.

I let out a nervous chuckle and try to look as natural as possible.

"That would be quite weird, I don't think they send him to this kind of events. I can assure you that I am simply Charlie."

"Well, if you say so, Charles. So what brings you here, my dear lad?"

"I'm doing some training in international cooperation between Aurors, I'm basically here to observe and have a chat with the French Aurors about a few cases we are working on, nothing particularly exciting, I'm afraid.", I say with a shrug. They don't need to know I'm here to investigate the suspicious disappearance of a French delegate.

The witch smiles at me politely and asks me to just call her Willa, she looks like a gentle grandmother and I immediately feel at ease with her.

Malfoy smiles too, a genuine smile that actually makes me blush like a silly teenager. I'm not used to Malfoy being so nice to me... I distract myself with the menu, but realise with dismay that it's all in French.

"Do you need help with the menu, Charlie? I can translate for you, if you want.", says Malfoy leaning closer to me.

I'm starving and just want to eat something and then go to bed, I've been up since silly o'clock and travelling always makes me extra hungry. I also need to remember that my Polyjuice potion runs out around midnight, so I can't waste too much time. I take Malfoy's offer and get him to order some meat for me.

Bartholomew proves to be even more boring that he looks, he goes on and on for ages about his holiday cottage in the Cornwall and how amazing his wife's sour cherry scones were. Willa listens politely and sometimes asks him questions about his dog and his wife's apparently spectacular apple and rhubarb crumble.

After what feels like an eternity (and a couple of glasses of wine to survive the evening), we all finish eating and I'm hoping I can finally retreat to my room and just take a shower and relax, but Bartholomew clearly has other ideas.

"I think it's time for a nightcap, my dear colleagues. What about a nice tawny port?"

Before I can come up with an excuse, Draco intervenes.

"I'm awfully sorry, Bart, but Charlie and I have already agreed to meet up after dinner to discuss some work-related issues regarding tomorrow's conference. I'm afraid we'll have to leave now."

Nice save, Malfoy!

As we leave the restaurant, Malfoy grins at me as he loosens his tie.

"What about a drink, just you and me?", he asks winking (it's definitely a wink this time!) and I somehow find myself nodding and following him into the bar, just across the hall. Have I already had too much wine?

"So Charlie, tell me more about yourself. You look more or less my age, but I can't remember you from Hogwarts. Which house were you in?"

It's a good job I've memorised my cover up story, after the wine and the exhaustion of the day, I can barely function and I wouldn't been able to come up with a decent answer.

"I was in Hufflepuff, I was two years behind you. I remember you from school, but I doubt you remember me."

"Let me guess, you thought I was a complete and utter twat", says Malfoy sipping on his drink.

I nearly choke on my rum and coke.

"Well, I…"

"No need to worry, I know what I was like, especially towards Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. I never really liked the lots of you back then."

"Ok…" What am I supposed to say? I wonder what Charlie Crowdy would reply to that. You were definitely a knob, Malfoy? No worry about it, mate?

"I know people say it all the time and it has become a cliché, but people change after a war, Charlie. It has already been nearly ten years, but sometimes it feels like yesterday. My family chose the wrong side, we paid our dues after the war. But I know that for some people it's not enough…" Malfoy is talking to his drink, his eyes clouding over and showing his tiredness and some kind of sadness that I had not noticed.

It was all over the papers and everyone talked about it. Malfoy and his family were put under trial by the Wizengamot after the war, his father was sent to Azkaban and is still there. Narcissa and Draco managed to get acquitted only because I testified in their favour, plus they had several witnesses to testify that they had never killed nor injured anyone. But they have lost their fortune; they still have Malfoy Manor, but I know that Draco had to start his career from scratch. He could not rely on his family's support and wealth anymore and had to work hard to get in the position he is in now.

"Well, Malfoy-"

"Draco"

"…Draco", Merlin it feels weird to say his first name out loud, "I fought in the war too and I know it has taken a lot from all of us. We all had to grow up too fast and things were not the same after what happened."

I'm quite drunk and I don't really know what I'm trying to say. I guess I'm just trying to tell him I know what he means. We have fought on opposite sides, but we have both suffered in a similar way. He's probably one of the few people who know what it felt like to be so young and to go through a war.

"It's tough, the people who haven't been through it don't know what it's like. We were all so young.", I mutter.

Malfoy looks at me with a thoughtful expression and nods.

"I see some of my friends or my colleagues and their children and sometimes I think it's fucking unfair that I never had that…that blissful happy childhood and carefree youth." I can't believe I've just said that out loud. Well, Charlie has said that out loud, so that's fine, I guess.

Draco takes his glass in his hand and moves it around, so the ice starts clinking and a few drops fall onto the counter. His eyes focus on me for a moment and he tilts his head, resting his chin onto his palm.

"I know what you mean Charlie. I had a happy childhood, I guess. But I can pretty much remember like it was yesterday the day it all ended. It literally felt like the rug was pulled from under my feet."

"Are you talking about the day you were marked?"

His eyes open wide and he stares at me like I just slapped him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I'm just a bit drunk", I add quickly.

"It's ok", he says after a moment, "it's not a secret I was a Death Eater."

A few minutes go by, when we simply stare at our glasses and I think that shit, I have definitely fucked up and made things awkward, but then he says almost in a whisper: "do you have nightmares?"

"Yes, they're quite bad sometimes. If I'm tired or stressed they get more vivid and I have to put silencing spells on my room otherwise I'll wake up the whole neighbourhood with my screaming." That's why Jinny and I sleep in separate rooms most of the time, she can't cope with me and my nightmares.

Malfoy looks at me with a sad expression and finishes his drink in one go.

"I still dream about the fire…and Christmas…", he pauses and closes his eyes for a moment. "Sometimes I think Harry Potter would be the only person who really understands what this is like. What living after the war is like after what we've been through. But it's nice talking to you, Charlie."

"Yeah, it's nice talking to you too, Draco." And somehow, it doesn't feel like something I have to say to pretend I'm Charlie and to sound polite. No one wants to talk about the war anymore, it's been years and they have all put it behind them. But I still feel like it's part of me, some days it's better and I forget, but sometimes it still feels so raw.

"I don't think I've ever talked about it properly with anyone, you know?", says Malfoy, "everyone simply wants to forget."

We keep on chatting for a bit longer, moving on to ministry stuff and eventually Quiddich, until the bartender starts cleaning the counter and giving us the evil eye.

"Well, I think it's best if we call it a night, it's getting late and we have to wake up early tomorrow. Do you have any hangover potion?", he asks

I don't, I never considered getting sozzled with Malfoy.

"I've got some in my room, I made it myself and it doesn't actually make your mouth taste like rotten socks like the stuff you buy. Come to my room for a minute and I'll give you some."

I think it sounds so odd, Malfoy inviting me to his room at this time of night, but I go along with it because I want some of that potion.

When Malfoy opens the door to his room, I nearly jump back. There's a massive tent where the bed should be and I notice afterwards that the bed has been probably transfigured into that silly stuffed giraffe that is standing next to the door.

"Wait, are you sleeping in there?"

"Yes, it's my old family tent. I hate sleeping in hotel rooms and it's kind of nice to bring some of the commodities from home, don't you think?".

I honestly feel stupid for not thinking of it myself, I absolutely hate hotel rooms.

Malfoy steps in and I follow him, he suddenly turns like he's not expecting me to be there and I have a feeling he probably just wanted me to wait outside. Oops!

I take a look around me I hold my breath: Malfoy's tent is not only big (nothing like Arthur's tent, really), but it's also the cosiest thing I've ever seen. I was expecting something modern, minimalistic and cold, but it's actually lovely. There's a living room area with two sofas and a small table, some shelves full of colourful books, tea lights all around and a lots of soft looking pillows. I can see a kitchen to the left and what is probably a bedroom to the right, although the door is closed. The bathroom door is open and it smells like Malfoy's perfume, so I wonder if maybe it's just his soap that smells amazing.

"Wait here, I'll be back in a second", he tells me going inside the bedroom. I hear rummaging and the sound of glass and soon Malfoy comes out holding a potion.

"Here you go Charlie, for best effects I would take it with some orange juice."

"Thank you, you're a life saver.", I smile at him without realising.

"I come prepared, I've had to spend many evenings with Bart the Fart and the process usually involves getting drunk to survive".

I start laughing at the Bart the Fart nickname, as I imagine his face if he heard Malfoy calling him that. Malfoy smiles at me, a genuine sweet smile and I feel like I'm melting. I've never seen him looking like this, with his defences down, like a nice bloke being friendly and making jokes. He gets closer to me and I wonder if he is planning on kissing me. Truth be told, I've heard rumours that he's gay, but I never pay attention to gossip.

Is Malfoy going to kiss me? I suddenly feel my legs becoming like jelly, as he draws nearer and slightly brushes his finger against my cheek.

"Charlie, it's so odd. It feels like I've known you for a long time."

If only he knew…

"You suddenly look really familiar too, maybe it's the alcohol, but your face…and I hadn't noticed how amazing your eyes are, such a beautiful green."

Wait, hang on a second, did he just say green?

"I'm breaking my number one rule here, I never hang out with British guys. But I could make you an exception. Are you even gay?"

"Yeah…", I hear myself say. Charlie Crowdy can be gay.

He runs his fingers through my hair and he smiles.

"I love your hair, it looks so messy…", he smiles at me and I feel myself leaning into him, when he suddenly pulls back and stares at me with his grey eyes open wide.

"Wait, why do you suddenly have a scar on your forehead?"

"Shit, what time is it?", I look at my watch and it's 10 minutes past midnight.

"Hang on a second…Potter? What the actual fuck?!"

What the fuck, indeed!

Notes:

I really hope this was not a total car crash! I've rated it mature because there's definitely going to be smut coming soon.💙