It was finally Saturday. Draco had spent the last two days trying to clean up the mess that was his week after Granger laid her hands on it. Missed meeting, news stories, and rumors abound. Granted the meetings were handled or rescheduled, there were always rumors and the news story was a small fluff piece about the newest starlet witch he was apparently seeing but still. Nothing like the past to come and uproot your happy life. Well, not happy but at least manageable.

He signed his last hiring contract in relief as he left the office last night. He had to work late in order to be sure he had the day clear for the weekend. Big things were in the works and he was somehow out of time and in no rush at all. It was a strange feeling for the usually decisive man.

He sighed from the comfort of his bed. It's four post and draped canopy making a safe and cozy shell. The dark silk sheets cocooning him in until he was ready to emerge for the day. The curtains reminded him of Hogwarts and home, back before it all went to hell.

He begrudgingly has Potter to thank for that. Granger by extension. Things got hairy after the war. Inquisitions, searches, questionings, no torture thankfully but ultimately he was underage and his mother was a woman which in the Dark Lord's eyes made her a pawn and thus unworthy. Apparently too unworthy to drag her down with him. Although he was sure her stellar parties throughout the years and some nagging housewives did the trick. A last minute side change and lie to the most dangerous man on the planet to spare Potter may have helped too.

After all the seizures cleared up, a nice bit of money hidden away in a distant dead relations account had been found and inherited to Draco. He used it, along with his knack for demand vs supply cost to finally mass produce potions. Just the basic ones that apply for every standard witch and wizard, nothing too expensive to make or too difficult. He was even able to curate favor in the small local apothecary shops by buying a few and leaving them in the management of their previous owners. Stocking his standard potions of course. Let them labor over their love potions and wolfsbane. He will take care of your everyday headache, joint pain, or upset stomach. At least on the base level.

Soon other shops followed suit, there was always a need for base potions but they are so… boring to create. They aren't that profitable either as they tend to have price limits set by the ministry to keep them accessible. But when he wasn't the one who had to make them, and he could make them in bulk, then they got profitable. His past had shrugged right off his shoulders, replaced with a medical caucus and crown. After all how could a dark wizard supply Saint Mungos entirely at no cost? Does a monster donate to orphans and charity drives? How does a death eater set up a recovery program for war veterans? Who could possibly remember any of that nasty business?

He slid his arm out from under the sheet to glare at the ever fading dark mark. His father should have known the Dark Lord was still alive when his didn't all those years ago. Draco's grew lighter and lighter each day right after the war. It was now only a faint outline and brush of shadow. Not clear at all. It could have easily been an ink smug if Draco was the sort to smudge things. And yet…

Somehow those people saw. Many of them. Sure, the seer would know he supposed. He pondered for a moment before shuddering at the thought of how dangerous an effective, reliable seer could be. But how did the chief? Even the man in the rug shop? They were clearly all related, did they all carry the gift? Or has the magic infected me. Is Arike right?

It was this thought that kept him clear of the dark arts. Even the gray ones. His real career came in the form of those willing to pay for the specialized. The rare ingredients, the hard to find recipes, the questionable use. All that could ruin a man's reputation. But never his life. Though Draco had been asked to create some of the seedier potions, he always refused. The line was an easy one to cross and he only barely made it back last time.

With a sigh he decided that self loathing was bad for the skin and sat up. Immediately his house elf appeared, slowly drawing curtains back. Allowing time for his eyes to adjust to the relative brightness.

"Pinky I have a headache. I want more of that recovery potion you gave me earlier this week. It did wonders." He glanced and the house-elf shifted fearfully under his gaze.

Granger did get her way on that. The second Potter became Minister of Magic all house elves were freed or taken on as staff with a wage to be paid. He picked up Pinky shortly after they closed the Hogwarts for repair.

"Master Malfoy. You are so skilled indeed. However Pinky is stupid. Pinky knows not where you keep the precious potion. Pinky is sorry!" Her pitch took on the high pitch whine that usually meant she was about to slam her head into something. It was far too early for this.

"I forbid you to hurt yourself." She paused with her forehead mere inches away from his bed post. Thinking of foreheads just made his head ache worse. "Fine if you didn't buy it, where did it come from? Was it dropped off as a sample or something?"

"Pinky is worthless Master Malfoy. She should have known, she should have." Growling he stood swiftly up.

"Pinky. Do shut up. Or do I need to give you a raise?" Pinky like all house elves were paid and oh how she hated it. The threat was enough to break her out of her self loathing.

"No Master Malfoy. It was not a sample. It came through the floo that night when you came home. Pinky found it in the ashes while cleaning. Pinky thought you had dropped it and wanted it ready in the morning. But Pinky knows Master Malfoy would never be so careless! Pinky is a bad elf. Pinky could have poisoned you!"

"Pinky!" the elf shut her mouth holding back tears. It was so much harder this way. He had considered giving up and just hiring a decent cleaning service but they were worse at keeping secrets. Also when he so much as suggested it he had to stop the house elf from flinging herself off the balcony. Now that would be a story for the papers.

"It is fine. I know where it came from. I am sorry. I just forgot-"

"Master should never be sorry. Pinky is only a lowly house elf of no importance. Pinky-"

"Needs to stop talking now and go find a healing potion. Ideally one of mine but at this point any will do." With a crack she was gone, most likely in a blind panic to redeem herself in some way. He cursed himself for drinking down the whole potion without thought. If he had saved some they could have at least tried to reverse engineer it. Well just one more thing he had to filch from Granger before ending this horrid deal. He had however not come out empty handed.

With what could be akin to reverence he gazed at the vials he had left in his glass safe. Visible only to him and his elf, he had kept them there for 3 days. Staring, waiting, praying he wouldn't have to use one and make a choice. She had said all of the villagers got sick and died or didn't. She didn't say what made her immune or even how it spread. He lived in anxiety for days, hoping he wouldn't need to use one of the precious cure-alls. Thanks to his devil luck he hadn't and assumed by now any symptoms would have appeared, leaving him the chance to finally make this whole venture worth it.

Climbing out of bed he slipped into a warm shower. It had taken him ages to get the dirt, sweat, and whatever germs clung to him off the last time he came home from Grangers. As a matter of fact after that storm debacle he had to call on Pinky to do his hair, much to his shame and her endless delight. She spent hours talking about how he should grow it out long, like a regal man of his station. Not likely. Although he was sure he could give Granger a good spook that way, maybe on All Hallows eve if he was still around by then.

He cut off the shower with a violent twist, annoyed to be starting the day thinking of the annoying mudblood already. God she thought she was so much better than him. What's worse is that she actually had the skill to make it not a totally baseless claim. What an infuriating know-it-all swot.

The cold was starting to seep past the steam so he snatched a pre-warmed towel from the stack on the shelf beside him before dripping his way through the bathroom. As he shaved and brushed his teeth he made a point to flick the cream and toothpaste in much more of a mess than usual. He had felt a bit guilty about yelling at Pinky and this would make her happy in some weird way. When he entered his bedroom he found his potion, a pair of black slacks, a silk navy button up shirt and black thin tie. He dropped the all black ensemble when he ditched his death eater label but still stuck to darker colors whenever back his potion he slid into his perfectly fit clothes like a second skin and wandered out into the hallway. There was a gentle gasp and then some maniacal giggling in the bathroom. He just shook his head and wandered to the kitchen, leaving the house elf to her mess.

He wasn't even shocked to find Blaise and Theo lounging in his living room. Blaise with his feet on the sofa and reading some magazine and Theo happily gorging on what must have been an impressive spread. Ignoring them he wandered over to what remained of the toast and debated the merits of butter versus jam.

"Well then?" Theo ventured sliding into the seat next to Draco at his breakfast bar.

"Well then what?" Draco really wanted tea but needed the heavier kick of coffee and poured himself a mug. He always wanted tea but hadn't had it in ages.

"Your disappearing act?" Blaise suggested as he rose from the couch in a saunter. While Malfoy was saved by the skin of his teeth after the war, Blaise Zabini was saved by the cut of his jaw and his cheek bones. Draco supposed sitting out of the battle of Hogwarts helped as well.

"I don't recall." He decided on butter and slathered the toast in one go before shoving it gracelessly in his mouth.

"Well we got drunk in India, had a roaring time, charmed some lovely female companions into joining us for the night and then we wake up to the sounds of a crack and poof. You are gone." Blaise settled on the other side boxing him in.

"What lovely sound effects. You should do film." Theo's hand on his shoulder indicated they would not be giving up any time soon and more importantly he would not be apparating away alone. "Oh fine. You would not believe what happened when I went to grab some ice. This stunning princess from Bali-"

"A princess from Bali?" Theo offered with a hint of skepticism.

"Yes, visiting Delhi on vacation."

"Bali doesn't have any princesses Draco." Blaise offered with an award winning smile of perfectly straight white teeth. "I know, I've tried."

"Well it appears I have been had." He was sipping his coffee casually when he heard Blaise crack his neck. The hit came from Theo and knocked him backwards onto the living room carpet. Theo held him down as Blaise stood over him.

"Must we. I haven't had a day off in ages." He questioned boredly. Why couldn't they just leave it.

"I don't know must we?" Blaise supplied pulling out his wand. "A french model taught me this lovely version of the tickle jinx. Cute, but when used just the right way it's magic all its own. I've been needing practice. And I'm a slow learner."

Theo chuckeled from his spot pinning down Draco's shoulders.

"Oh fine. Off you git." He launched Theo with a shove, who let himself be pushed was something calming to the boyish games they still played,like a life he never really got to live. "I will tell you what I can."

Blaise fell back smugly on the nearest arm chair. His wand lazily drooping in his head and his long legs kicked up, yet again on Draco's very expensive furniture.

Theo stayed where Draco had pushed him. His long frame lounging on the rug and leaning against the wall of the fireplace. His darling waves a shock of rich mohogany against the white marble of the floo. A lazily smile etched into his face.

Draco drawing his wand cast a silent accio as the potion appeared in his hand. His two mates looked curiously at him.

"I was picking up an ingredient… for this." His eyes fixed on to Blaise and drifted to his arm. It was a cause that united to the boys through literally any roadblock in their friendship. Draco out of guilt, Blaise out of wish for a pain free life, and Theo, well because he was Theo. Practically a Hufflepuff that one.

"Okay and we couldn't come why."

"The wi-" His left wrist stung painfully and for a moment he was violently filled with fear. It was only as the pain faded he realized it was too low. "The magical person I am working for is very private."

The lack of the burn on his skin indicated he had very little flex with the oath.

"Magical person? As opposed to a magical bird?" Theo suggested from his spot.

"More importantly, do we know him?" Blaise asked. The burn was back and Draco deflected.

"I cannot give you two any more information." It was diplomatic answer. One that pleased the oath and irritated his friends.

"What is this twenty questions? Why can't you tell us? You know we're all in this." Blaise fired off. Certainly he was about to launch into a lecture on friendship and trust Draco cut the chat short by holding up his arm and thinking of the vow.

Both of his mates stared at the delicate and wispy gold tendrils snaking around his wrist and up his forearm. "Very private."

"Shit draco. That's pretty intense. What did you promise?" The oath lines flared with only a mild warmth to him but a clear effect on Blaise. "Okay okay nevermind I won't ask."

"That wasn't smart Malfoy. Unbreakable oaths are dangerous." Theo had stood from his spot moving closer to investigate his new bracelet. "This one is well made too, no weak points or loopholes. Whatever you promised you have to stick to."

"I am well aware of that." He couldn't manage to keep the growl out of his voice and quickly changed the subject before he ended up burned or dead. "In any event, Blaise I need you to drink this. Careful with it."

Shaking loose the last strands of the oath he drifted the potion over Blaise who caught it with his good hand. He glanced at the potion before uncapping it and sniffing.

"You were had Draco. This is just Cure-All."

"I know."

"We did this years ago. In every iteration. It doesn't work and it's bitter." Blaise responded testily.

"Just try it. It's different this time." He and Theo held their breaths as Blaise sighed and threw the potion back. Unlike the villagers the effect in him was immediate. He rolled back his shoulder in astonishment and scrunched his nose.

"Wow, this is great!" Blaise exclaimed with excitement. But not enough.

"It didn't work." Dracos flat delivery deflated Theo who was still hoping for the best.

"Of course it worked! I pulled a muscle in my shoulder last week and it's fine now. Ah, and my hangover from last night, gone! Woah! I think you fixed an ingrown toenail nail too. That's weird."

"Your arm you absolute buffoon!"

"Oh, well it hurts less." Blaise flexed his fingers, cringing as the muscles strained before looking away.

"God damn it!" Draco roared and cleared the nearest table. Theo was well prepared for his tantrums and had stepped clear. He stood by Blaise staring out the window. "All that for nothing!"

"Hey! I think my allergies are gone!"

"Well good for your fucking sinuses." Draco spat, the thick taste of failure rolling in his mouth. He had signed his life away to Hermione Fucking Granger and he still failed. How far can you sink?

"Look, Draco. We'll keep trying." Theo offered. His comforting pat on the shoulder just left Draco feeling more empty.

"Like old war wounds aside, you should really bottle this stuff. It is wholly unlike any other Cure-All I have ever had. Fuck I feel wired!" Blaise laughed from his chair.

"Unfortunately, it is both difficult and near impossible to make. So don't go craving it because I am never going through that again." Draco sighed weakly. Another failure. But no time to pout. There is always something else to try. In this case he still had to research that Skelegro recipe.

"That's a bloody shame. Let's hit the town. I could really go for a drink. Or maybe a game of quidditch. It's been ages since I felt this good. Theo you can keep." Blaise bubbled his way to the door forcing the other two to follow. Draco will try again, Blaise will always bitch then take the potion, Theo will always say they'll get it next time. At least, he supposed until one of us died.