Title: The Golden Wiles

Summary: Harry is bent on dating Draco, and Draco is bent on dumping Harry. Harry/Draco. AU. Oneshot.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

A/N: The idea of this fic was taken from one of Grey's Anatomy's episodes. Revised.

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The hallway was starting to twirl in an unpleasant fashion, and the desire to litter the clean, sterilized corridor with his lunch was admittedly tantalizing. But he would lose his job and that meant no money to support himself either. Draco softly cursed the universe's twisted humor, and sauntered towards the vendor machine, pushed the necessary buttons with the right Knuts, and voila, a bland coffee. What a life. If he were in a higher position than a mere Healer, he would've had wasted no time requesting for better products stocked in the machine.

Draco had walked towards the emergency room when another batch of soiled, sweaty, and wounded men welcomed his strained sight. So much for a ten-minute coffee break, the blonde thought wryly. He had taken a small sip of his coffee, and failed to hide the grimace from the horrid taste before he scrubbed his hands and started patching a dark-haired man sans vigor. Despite the necessary data gathering for medical records, Draco decided to hastily skip it; he was too tired to accommodate his patients' whines.

Honestly, it didn't mean that just because of a war ensuing in the Wizarding World, they could parade themselves in and out of the battle front brandishing their ego to all and sundry. The man he was treating suddenly laughed and Draco scowled in annoyance; he had just blurted out his thoughts.

"What have you got here?" Draco uttered a charm, which served as sterilized gloves then hoisted the man's robes much to his patient's dismay.

"Ow! Are you trying to kill me?" The man exaggerated not quite but did nothing to hide his amusement towards the Healer.

"This is a hospital. You are far more war twisted than I would've thought if you think I'm here to kill you."

The man smiled sheepishly.

Draco rolled his eyes and concentrated on his task. "Daggers? And a laceration to add." a simple case. He fished for his wand, started the fundamental cleaning charms and provided basic healing treatment. Draco had given a quick check on the wound's severity before he muttered a suturing charm and checked as the long gash closed slowly. He could do this even with his eyes shut, which unfortunately was already threatening to.

"You're cute, Healer. Would you like to have some dinner tonight?"

Draco raised a mocking brow in return, ignoring the query. "You might want to return here to be checked after three days to make sure no internal bleeding occurs."

The man was about to open his mouth, but Draco beat him to it. "And no, stop hitting on me. I have too many problems and you're wasting your time."

Blame it on St. Mungo's decimated Healers and besides, the choice slapped at him was either the front line or the emergency room for triage. Slytherins were known for self-preservation, pride be damned. Look where it got him then.

"Just come back after three days to replace the suturing charm."

"I'll do it if you'll go out with me."

Draco glared at the obstinate man. "You'll do it to save your own arse."

The man pouted attractively. "Come on, there's this pretty restaurant in Paris where we cou—"

The man's proposition was halted by some rustle and bustle behind, which also stopped Draco from his ministrations. That gave the man the extra time to ogle him blatantly. The blonde Healer's frown deepened as another man smiled charmingly at him; this time a bit too shyly after he threw a glare behind Draco. Too bad it didn't come out with the desired effect because of the bloodied face.

Irony was giving him the thumbs up, Draco noted sourly. How come Harry Potter always chose to get bloody and dirty during his duty? Surely having ten hours, thrice a week position at St. Mungo's was not that much of a tight schedule to have his patient records down from thirty to fifty a day without missing Potter's name in it?

"Oh, are you Harry Potter?"

Draco snapped his head back towards his patient, and pushed back the man's robes a little harshly, which gained the Healer another complaint. And would that smile never vanish? It was starting to grate on Draco's tattered nerves.

"You're done now get out."

"You're really pretty but you're too snarky."

"Thank you. Out."

The man hopped off the gurney like a brand new solider. Draco was about to confront the freaking Boy Who Lived to be Draco's Eternal Patient when the man abruptly turned him around and kissed him soundly much to the blonde's surprise.

"That was for good luck," The man whispered against Draco's lips, and gave him a final peck before dashing off like a hero.

Draco sighed with exasperation. As much as he wanted to burn the man alive for his bold move, the army needed him. He turned back to Potter only to see a dark scowl marring his bloody face, his eyes lingered to where the man had run off.

"What, Potter?"

"Oh, so now you're snogging patients, but you won't go out with me, is that it?"

"Potter." Draco gritted his teeth. His ten hours of work was extending to a brain numbing twelve if he would let the Gryffindor rant like a jealous boyfriend. "Stop insinuating about what I do with my patients. Now, what you're going to do is to get patched up, return to the battlefield, kill Voldemort and free us from this hell."

"And go out with me?"

What was it with Healers and proposing patients! "No, Potter! I told you, it was—"

"A mistake which is not to happen again even if I beg for it six feet from the ground." Potter finished, as he took off his dirty, singed robes, which had exposed his bruised midriff. Blood was already bruising beneath his tan skin. Another hex to impede the lungs' functions, barely avoided.

"There's your answer." Draco positioned his want to Potter's infamous scar, and muttered a basic healing charm to heal the head wound. He checked the dark-haired man's torso and did another series of test before uttering a soft Episkey. "Go to Lextor and get a blood test. I think you're already anaemic."

"What about the kiss?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Harry gestured as wildly as his bruised limbs could afford him to. "We snogged at Ron and Hermione's engagement party. No alcohol was involved then; was it also an accident?"

Draco fought the strong urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "No, it wasn't but I'm not putting any meaning behind it. You grabbed me and I merely indulged your absurd fantasies about my godliness."

Harry snorted. "You know, Draco, even a blind man can see that you also like me."

"I do like you, Potter. I have to." The blonde Healer treated another wound on the man's arm before it could lead to an infection. "You're in a hospital as a patient, Potter and I'm overseeing you as a healer. Now, either you'll be confined here for the rest of the day to restore your poor situation to be called health or do as I say."

Harry unexpectedly grinned at him. "Still dominating as ever, Malfoy?"

Draco glared up at him from his position somewhere along Potter's torso only to see the dark-haired git scanning the room for possible people in proximity and whispered with a smirk. "It turns me on, you know."

"Potter!" Draco stood and towered over his sitting patient, smiling all too innocently for his taste. God, but the prat was such a pain in the arse, no pun intended. "Look, it was an accident. You and I were stoned to oblivion, and we were the only ones left in the room, did the deed and— "

"Loved it." Potter supplemented again. "See? I can't stop thinking about it, and I think you are, too."

"Am not!"

"So? I'm offering it on a silver platter."

"And I will just bang it on that stubborn head of yours until you wake up; the answer's no."

Harry finally frowned. "Why? Are you seeing someone already?" Then like something had dawned upon him, his frown turned to a menacing grimace. "You want that guy who've just snogged you? You didn't even strangle him or something!"

Draco looked up from the chart he was taking notes on, a brow cocked. "Potter, your fanatical delusions that I cannot fuck anyone other than that golden arse of yours is worsening." He scribbled additional notes on his chart. "Perhaps, I should also recommend a battery of tests just to make sure."

Before the Golden Boy could answer, Draco was able to shut him up. "And stop chasing me like a love-sick puppy, you four-eyed git. It was a one night stand. If you want a fuck from me again all you had to do was ask, and not depend on your histrionic tendencies. Although you know the answer to that already."

"Fine." The tone turned to a sulk. Draco took a last quick check-up, and motioned for Harry's tattered robes beside him. "Wait here. Your robes are filthy, and I will not risk my job to be ruined by a ton of gore and grime. I'll ask a nurse to get you a shirt to use, and another battle robe to be sure." The Healer walked out of the room without another look.

---

Draco sighed as he realized how exhaustion crept along his body. Another minute standing in front of his locker, and he was pretty sure he was going to be the next candidate in the ER.

He gathered all the remaining strength he had and weighed his options for transporting back home. Apparating at his state would cause more harm than safety, and the floo was just too grubby. He groaned an expletive when a shot of pain emerged from his right shoulder due to his sudden movement.

"I'll apparate you home if you want."

Draco twisted around so fast he nearly tripped himself. "Potter!" He nearly shrieked the name in surprise. "You'll either give me a heart attack at the age of twenty-four, or murder me in my sleep for not going out with you!"

Harry entered the locker room of Healers wearing a frayed looking brown turtle neck, which was obviously not in his size with the way the long sleeves had covered even his fingers. He looked like a lost little boy with his equally tired face. "Come on, Draco. I'll get you home."

The Healer crossed his arms on his chest, eyes narrowed. Even sneering was past his energy. "I can get myself home, Potter. You're not going to gain a brownie point for that offer. And what are you doing in here? It's off-limits except to employees!"

Harry shrugged. "I'm Harry Potter."

Draco rolled his eyes at the complacent tone. "Right. Just say your name and you get a free pass at everything. Why not try it on Voldemort, eh?"

The green-eyed man ignored the taunts. "It's not just about sex, you know."

"Excuse me?"

Harry took a step closer to Draco. "It's the way you defied all expectations about a Malfoy."

Another step.

"Your sexy voice, even your sarcasm. Your fragrance. I love it."

Step.

"And your hair, Merlin." Harry reached a hand for a strand of blonde hair, which was loosened from Draco's tie, and moved to kiss it tenderly. "I'm addicted to it. I'm obsessed with the one bearing the hair, too."

"You are?" Draco's supposedly sarcastic retort lost its significance when it came out as a whisper.

"You have no idea, Draco Malfoy."

The blonde stood gazing levelly at Harry's sincere eyes, and realized those green orbs had lost its youthfulness so early in life. Then gray eyes changed to amused ones. Draco stepped back. "I'm still not going out with you."

Harry groaned in frustration. Refusing defeat, he smiled winningly at the other man. "You say that now." Then he walked out.

Draco rolled his eyes again. He donned his robe before closing his locker. He stood there for a brief moment before looking at the door. He smiled and shook his head.

END

A/N: Reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks.