Of course Draco had been appointed to train Harry. Of course.

On his first day, Harry walked into the office wearing a white dress shirt with suspenders, and his messy dark hair was tossed every which way. His eyes seemed to sparkle extra brightly and Draco was so fucked.

"Hello, Draco," Harry greeted, wearing a dashing white smile.

"H-Hi." He wrung his sweaty hands together and prayed to God he didn't appear as nervous as he felt. Harry looked gorgeous, and Draco just wanted to climb all over him and eat him up.

"So, I take it you're going to be training me?"

"Mhm." Lord, was he capable of anything more than one-word responses?

"Alright, then." Harry beamed, looking positively delighted. "Shall we get started?"

Draco nodded, gesturing to him to follow along. He led Harry to a vacant cubicle, where Millie had used to work. He was still hurt that she hadn't invited him to her party, but he squashed it down.

"Here's your cubicle."

Harry looked around. "It isn't much. But I'll make it work."

"What were you expecting, three windows and a prime view of the city?"

Harry snorted.

Draco led him to the coffee machine, which was conveniently located next to the copier. Then he showed Harry how to make copies.

"I've never had a desk job before," said Harry. "This is all so . . . Mundane."

"Yes," Draco agreed absentmindedly as he lifted open the copy machine to remove the fresh paper. "It is, isn't it?"

"Can we skip to the good part?"

Was that a-

"I beg your pardon?"

Harry looked startled. "Oh- No, I mean, can we skip to the part where I start making myself useful around here?"

Draco deflated, sighing in relief, a little mortification as it was, but mostly relief.

"That will come once Severus assigns you a mission. For your first few missions you'll probably come with me and Pansy, but you'll eventually have your own partner."

"Oh, okay."

"Wait a second . . ." Draco just remembered. Millie had worked alone. Everyone else was paired up. That meant . . .

"Harry, I think you're going to be working with us for a while."

"What? Why?"

"Because our old coworker, Millie, didn't have a partner. Everyone else is taken."

"I don't mind working with you and Pansy," said Harry. "You two seem like you get on well."

"She's my best friend," Draco confessed.

"Does it ever get frustrating, working with someone you're so close with?"

"Sure it does. But we always work through our issues."

"Draco," a velvety female voice interrupted, "your mail."

That was odd. All mail normally went straight to his desk. Why would Karina the receptionist hand-deliver it to him?

"Can you leave it on my desk, Karina?" he asked politely. "I'm in the middle of something right now."

"Oh, no, that won't do," said Karina. "I was asked by the tall, handsome gentleman in the lobby to deliver this to you in person."

Draco's blood ran cold.

With shaking hands, he accepted the letter from Karina. He peered at the return address, and sure enough . . .

Mark.

He swallowed thickly.

Don't freak out, don't freak out don't freak out-

"Draco?" Harry's concerned voice cut in, and only then did he realize that Karina had already left. "Is everything alright?"

"Y-Yeah," he stuttered, gripping the letter tightly. "I just have to- Erm, will you excuse me for a moment?"

Eyes wide, Harry nodded, for Draco hadn't given him much of a choice. Draco darted away and bent over his desk, tearing open the letter with the ferocity of an eager child on Christmas morning.

Draco,

I hope this letter finds you well. I asked your receptionist to hand-deliver it to you after all, for your lack of response to my previous letters makes me unsure if they actually reached you. I think about you all the time. You occupy my mind during the day, and in my sleep. I can't escape you. You're everywhere in my flat. That blanket you made me is still strewn across my sofa, I still have that one tee shirt you bought me with the hole in the sleeve, and I haven't brought it in myself to throw away the framed picture of us at the vineyard. It sits on my nightstand. I look at it everyday.

I'm not over you, Draco. You consume me. You occupy all my thoughts, you drive me absolutely crazy. I need to see you. Just to talk. I promise you, I never meant to push you. I let my instincts take over, and that was a terrible mistake. Please just think about my offer. If it makes you more comfortable, I promise that I won't even touch you. I just want to look at you, and talk to you eye to eye about what happened. Let me know soon, or better yet, just show up to my flat. I know you still know the way there, and I work the same hours.

Yours always,

Mark

Draco felt as though a fire were stirring inside him, ready to explode. How dare Mark continue to reach out to him and reopen his wounds? Who did he think he was? There was no way that Draco would ever voluntarily go to his flat after what Mark had done to him, so he supposed the smartest, safest course of action would be just to not answer. Mark would get the hint eventually and leave him alone, right?

You know how Mark gets when he wants something . . .

Draco shuddered. With stinging eyes, he growled and crumpled the letter into a tiny ball.

"Draco?" came Harry's voice.

Draco nearly shot a foot in the air. Startled beyond comprehension, he dropped the crumpled ball of a letter.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah. I'm fine," Draco lied, leaning back on his desk and squeezing its rim.

"Are you sure? You look a bit pale. Paler than usual, I mean."

Draco plastered on his best smile even though on the inside he felt like he was falling apart to bits. "Harry, there's no need to worry. I'm perfectly well."

Harry didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the matter further.

"Do you mind me asking who the letter was from?"

Draco stilled.

"Because, you seemed . . . I dunno, afraid. Of it."

He could tell Harry the truth. That was always an option. But then there'd be questions, and what if Harry wasn't gay, then he would constantly misconstrue Draco's friendliness for flirtation, and Harry would find out somehow that Draco was abused, and then he would pity him, and he couldn't have that. He just couldn't have that. So Draco knew what he needed to do.

He morphed his face into the nastiest sneer he could muster. "That," he hissed, "is none of your business."

Visibly affronted, Harry took half a step back. "I was just . . . Alright, okay. Okay."

"If we're going to get on as coworkers, Harry, I'm going to need you to stay out of my personal affairs. Is that understood?" Draco asked, taking a step closer to the taller man.

Harry nodded at once. "I'm sorry to pry. I wasn't- I mean- You just looked really . . . spooked, is all-"

"If there's something about my personal life that I wish to discuss with you, I'll come forward to you about it. Otherwise, do not ask me any personal questions."

"I'm sorry," said Harry again, and guilt squashed Draco's chest like a pile of bricks. Carefully, he bent down and retrieved the crumpled up letter from the floor, slowly placing it back on his desk. Harry eyed it suspiciously, but said nothing.

"Are you quite done asking questions?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded.

"Good. Now, next thing I'll show you is how to file a report for a school destruction."

Once Draco finished showing Harry the various appliances around the office and how to perform certain tasks, Harry mentioned he was hungry. "Want to grab a bite?" he asked.

Startled, Draco responded, "With me?"

Harry chuckled. "No, with that picture on the wall. Yes, with you."

"Usually Pans and I eat together. Would you mind if she came with?"

Harry shrugged. "The more the merrier."

So in five minutes, all three employees were strolling out of the company office and filing into the lift.

"How are you liking it here so far, Harry?" Pansy asked him as the lift lowered them down to the main floor.

"I feel like it's too early to tell," Harry answered. "If there's one thing I've learned from jobs, it's that looks can be deceiving."

Draco chuckled. "You'll find this job has got a real arse on it, once you're past training. There's a lot more to this job than what first meets the eye."

"I saw you in action at Norwich," said Harry, face darkening. "I can't say I'm too excited about that."

Pansy shushed him frantically. "These lifts are bugged, y'know. You never know who could be listening in."

Harry's eyes widened. "The lifts are bugged?"

"Of course they are," said Draco. "This is a government building. Everything's bugged."

Oh, how naive Harry was. Draco remembered hearing for the first time that their building was bugged, how uncomfortable it had made him. But now, like many things in his life, he was used to it.

Harry shook his head. "That's not okay."

"Are you trying to get us in trouble?" quipped Pansy.

Harry flashed a grin at her. "Maybe I am."

"On your first day, too!" Pansy exclaimed. "How scandalous."

The lift opened to the main floor, and the three exited the building.

"Where would we like to eat?" asked Pansy.

"I'm still new to the area, anything good around here?" asked Harry.

"I know an Italian place a couple blocks up the road," said Draco. "It won't take us long to walk at all."

After expressing their agreement to the place, the three set off on a pleasant stroll.

"So, Harry, if you don't mind me asking," said Pansy, fiddling with her bob like she always did, "what brought you to our line of work?"

"The money," Harry said bluntly.

"Does your family have any personal connections to Riddle?"

Harry shook his head. "My parents are dead."

Draco gasped quietly. "That's- I'm- I'm sorry."

Harry shook his head. "Don't be. You never knew them."

And, well, Draco supposed that was true.

"So you need this job," said Pansy. "Do you work anywhere else, or just here now?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," said Harry. "I have another job at Pleasant Cup Cafe, which isn't too far from here if I remember correctly. Severus told me that I'll need to prioritize this job over Pleasant, and I haven't exactly worked out all my scheduling with them over there yet."

"Do you think you're going to?" Pansy asked.

Harry shrugged. "I think it depends on how this job goes. If I like it here, I'll commit full-time and quit Pleasant Cup."

"Well, I guess the question you have to ask yourself is which job makes you happier," said Draco.

Harry looked at him as though he were seeing him for the first time. "It's not about being happy," he said plainly, frowning. "It's about making money."

"Jobs don't just have to be about making money," said Draco. "It's important that they're emotionally fulfilling as well. If you aren't happy somewhere, it isn't worth the money."

"Not everyone can afford to say that, you know," said Harry coldly. "Maybe you can, but I can't."

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. He knew exactly what Harry meant by that statement.

"Let's not talk about money like this," said Pansy carefully, as though she were extracting a vital organ in surgery. "It isn't very becoming."

"Couldn't agree more," said Draco, glaring at Harry. Harry just shrugged.

"You asked why I joined the team," he pointed out. "I didn't know what else to do after my tutoring job got terminated. This was the fastest and most accessible option available."

Draco lowered his gaze. He still felt bad about that. Harry had been so angry on that little girl's behalf when they'd gone to Norwich, and every time Draco thought about what they'd done to those kids he felt a knot tie up inside his stomach.

The rest of the walk passed with relative ease, and when they arrived at the restaurant Harry excused himself to go to the loo.

"I got another letter," Draco said as soon as they were alone.

Pansy's beady eyes widened as her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my god."

"I don't know what to do," Draco said. "He won't leave me alone, Pans. It's bad enough he knows where I live. Now he's getting our receptionist to hand-deliver his notes."

"Just do what you've been doing, Draco, and ignore him. He'll tire himself out eventually."

"Are you just saying that? I feel like you're just saying that."

"What did the letter say?"

"Same shit. He wants to meet up, to talk. He says he feels 'bad' about what happened. Wasn't aware that feeling was in his vocabulary."

"Which, obviously you are not," said Pansy, to which Draco nodded.

"But I can't help but wonder, why now?" she continued. "Why three years later? He must want something."

"I thought of that," said Draco. "I almost want to see him, just to tell him to leave me alone."

"Draco, no." Pansy leaned forward in her seat. "You will not see him. Understand me? I forbid it. If anyone's going to tell him off, it's me. How brilliant would it be to trick him into thinking you're coming, and he opens the door and there I am?"

Draco couldn't help but chuckle. That would, admittedly, be pretty funny.

All too soon Harry returned from the loo, and the pair had to cut their conversation short.

"So," said Harry. "What's good on the menu?"

"So, Hermione," said Harry, as he began flipping the chairs up onto the tables in the cafe. "If you don't mind me asking, what's the next book you guys are going to be reading for your club?"

Hermione sighed. She gave Harry a pointed look, as she shook her head.

"I know seeing us in action must have peaked your curiosity, Harry, but-"

"Please, just tell me? I won't say a word to anyone; I promise. If I'm being honest with you, I don't really have any friends besides you guys since I sorta just moved here. I don't exactly have a fanclub waiting to follow me everywhere."

"Harry-"

"I'll even let you host meetings at my house again. Please, Hermione, just tell me. I'm already almost done with Half of a Yellow Sun and I need more. Please."

Hermione looked stricken. "Do you . . . Do you . . ." Her eyes darted around the room before returning to Harry. "Do you l-like it?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "So much. So much. The way she divides the chronology to show some of the war first in order to devalue the characters' mistakes and focus more on their human sides- genius."

Hermione smiled. A bright, glossy, genuine smile.

"What do you think of Odenigbo and Olanna's relationship?" she asked, immediately followed by a squeak as her hands flew to her mouth. As though she couldn't believe she'd just asked the question.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I think they need to communicate more. Infidelity seems to be a running thread throughout the novel, that the war almost trivializes. I actually believe that their relationship would be weaker without the war."

"Because war trivializes the hardships of their relationship," Hermione finished for him. She and Harry shared a grin.

"Where the Crawdads Sing," said Hermione quietly.

"What?"

"Where the Crawdads Sing," she repeated, "is the book we're reading."

Harry smiled at her. "I won't breathe a word," he whispered.

"We actually managed to find two copies. It's a book Luna's been wanting to read for a while, so we're passing around the copies and waiting for everybody to read them."

"Oh," said Harry, not wanting to ask if he could be a part of that activity. He had a feeling it was something that Hermione would need to extend to him.

"Listen, Harry . . ." Hermione placed down her iPad and began helping him lift the chairs. "Ron was very insistent upon not including any more members in our club."

"I understand that," said Harry kindly.

"But . . . You don't strike me as the type to go running to the government."

"That's about the last thing I would do, yeah."

Hermione smiled. "Can you keep a secret?"

Harry nodded. He hoped it wasn't too eager.

"I found a third copy. I was going to give it to Ron after I was finished, but I want to give it to you."

Harry's eyes widened. "You . . . You want . . . To give it to me?"

Hermione nodded.

"W-Why?"

"I dunno. You just . . . seem like a good person. Who would care for a book the same way I would."

Harry was positively beaming now. "I'll take such good care of it, Hermione. Now hurry up and read the damn thing so I can, too!"

Hermione flashed him a smile as she continued to help him flip the chairs.

"Minerva had a good feeling about you when she hired you," she said, and Harry's chest felt warm.

"She did?"

"Yeah."

Hermione finished her side of the chairs, then walked over to Harry and picked back up her iPad, pressing some buttons and messing with it a bit before returning her attention to Harry.

"She thinks you're a really good guy. And I do, too. Ron will come around. I'm the leader of the club, so he has to answer to me."

"When's the next meeting?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Whenever everyone finishes Crawdads."

"That could be awhile."

"Yes. Unfortunately, meetings are very infrequent."

"I gathered."

Hermione chuckled good-naturedly as she made her way to the back of the restaurant, flipping off some switches and placing her iPad back in her office.

"Y'know," Harry continued, "it seems like my house was a good spot for everybody. It was enough room for everybody, and I actually liked having the company."

"Is that so?" Hermione asked as she sat down in her chair and wiggled the mouse to her computer.

"And . . . What I mean to say is, I wouldn't mind hosting another meeting."

Hermione froze. She turned to look at Harry. "You wouldn't?"

"Not at all," Harry emphasized. "I had the best time just watching you guys. What you were doing, it was incredible."

Hermione blushed. "Well . . . I've already spoken to Seamus, and he's out of the club now because of what's happened with his sister. We do need a new place."

Harry smiled. "I'd be more than happy to volunteer."

Hermione nodded. "It seemed to work really well for everyone last time. A couple people even reached out to me and told me how much they enjoyed your hospitality."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Hermione, I promise I'll guard your secret and your books with my life."

Hermione clicked a button on her computer. Then another one. Then she returned her attention to Harry. "My only condition: tell no one. Not a soul. Not even your own mother."

Harry decided not to correct her and tell her that his parents were dead. He also wondered how she and the others would react if they found out he had a government job.

"Okay," said Harry. "I won't tell anyone."