Chapter 5

The only reason that Harry rolled out of bed and dragged his corpse to work was the knowledge that Riddle was waiting for him with a cup of coffee and the Harry written from 8-9 am. He arrived just at eight with wrinkled clothes, the darkest pair of sunglasses he had and barely suppressed nausea from the floo.

Just as he expected, Riddle was waiting for him just off the main access with a hot cup of coffee in his hand. He smiled when he noticed Harry. And it was his actual genuine smile and not the politician smile. Harry almost felt guilty as to how close he came to taking a sick day.

"My savior," he whispered reverently to the coffee and let the dark, rich smell revive him.

Riddle laughed, "Nice to see you too, Potter. I'm glad to see how I'm your priority."

Harry looked at Riddle over the rim of his coffee and raised an eyebrow. "Don't fool yourself, Riddle. I only talk to you because of the coffee."

Riddle put his arm around his shoulder and dragged him closer. Harry huffed. The man was surprisingly tactile and Harry...well, he was a bit touch starved. "I'm well aware," Riddle drawled. "But also because of my charming personality, hmm?"

Harry took his sunglasses off to look him in the eyes, "You have the worst personality," he said seriously.

Riddle's loud laugh started a few passerby's. They were still two hallways away from the cafeteria but he could already smell the food and it turned his stomach around.

"Let's go to my office. I'm not hungry today."

Riddle changed direction without a word. Harry was glad for the extra support and not having to watch out for people. Riddle cleared the way like Moses with water and Harry could safely concentrate on his coffee. Even if the stares that followed them were at times uncomfortable. Harry opened his office door and activated the spell that runs the office on autopilot. He dimmed the lights, sat on top of his desk with his coffee carefully cradled, and closed his eyes in bliss.

Riddle looked around the small office in curiosity as the spell did its work. "An automated spell?"

Harry nodded with his eyes closed and enjoyed the coffee. "Adaptive. It has been learning for the past three years how to better efficiently do the work."

"You created an adaptive spell at...what, 23?" Harry opened his eyes to see Riddle looking at him weirdly. "You could have won the Order of Merlin third class for that." It wouldn't be nearly as impressive if Riddle knew his real age.

"I don't like the attention." Which was true enough. And it would've meant having to actually work in some other office. The entire point of the spell was to not work.

"Clearly. Not even the prize money tempted you?"

"You have to go to a ceremony and a lot of activities afterward. I would have to spend practically all the prize money on a new wardrobe for all the events." Harry would know. It was a trap.

Riddle made a mocking sad face, "but I would have had you in my clutches much sooner."

"The worst," Harry repeated with an amused smile.

"So I'm paying you to study for your Masters?" Riddle said with a playful smile but Harry didn't like the implication that he was not working.

Harry's work has always been a point of pride. He hadn't particularly liked being an Auror but he had worked dammed hard to be the best Auror he could be. It probably came from not wanting people to think he got the job because he was the Boy-who-lived. And while this job was menial at best, he was the best menial worker that there was.

Harry opened his eyes and glared reproachably. "One, you are barely paying me. Two, you are paying me to efficiently do the job. That meant creating the spell and now supervising it."

Riddle raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "How much supervising does it need?"

Harry sipped from his coffee. There was no good way of answering that. "It's been two years since its last mistake," he finally admitted, his pride for his work winning over admitting he was not actually needed here.

After a moment Riddle tightened his lips in displeasure. "You were shuffling papers the first time we talked."

Harry smiled impishly. "I wanted you gone."

Riddle narrowed his eyes and squared his shoulders. Harry knew him enough to know he was amused but trying to intimidate Harry into submission. It was adorable how Riddle still tried here and there to see if he got different results. He never got different results. But bless his heart; it was good to have dreams and goals. After a moment of watching Harry's delighted face, Riddle relented with a put-upon sigh.

"Are you always this straightforward?" he asked mulishly. Probably more annoyed at his failed experiment than at Harry's words.

"Only with you my dear," Harry said with a wink.

"If you are not needed here, come to my office, I have some things that might benefit from your eyes."

Without meaning to Harry yawned loudly. This was why workers were never too efficient with their work; they just got more work as gratitude.

"I have a chapter to read for my Masters."

Riddle looked fondly amused. "If you don't pass your practical exams with flying colors I'll eat my wand."

"That's a bold claim to make out of a Hogwart's dropout."

"Why did you leave after your OWLs?"

Probably because I couldn't leave sooner, he thought. He could see how Hogwarts without life and death every year wouldn't hold his attention. And he was born in a magical family so there wasn't even the newness of 'magic'.

"Hmm. This and that."

"If you are not going to tell me the least you can do is help me out for the day."

"That was weak," Harry accused. "You're not even trying today with your manipulations. I feel insulted. This lack of attention will make me leave with another dictator."

Riddle rolled his eyes but looked at him fondly amused. "There are no dictators in Britain," he denied weakly, and with a smiled he added, "and if there were, you'd only have me."

"I could go international," Harry threatened.

Riddle narrowed his eyes. "Let's go to my office."

Harry sipped his coffee and tried to think about how to wiggle out of more work. He was curious about what Riddle wanted him to do but his eyes were closing with how tired he was. He had been looking forward to napping in his office. Hell, he only got out of bed with the promise of a short chat with Riddle and then sleeping in his office for the rest of the morning. But ultimately this was his boss and he needed the job for one more year.

"You have a sofa in your office?"

Riddle looked apprehensive but still answered, "I do."

"You get many visitors?"

"...Potter, we are not going to have sex in my office."

Harry's jaw dropped. He threw his head back and laughed. "Sex? I was thinking about taking a nap." A flush crept from Riddle's neck to his face. Harry watched its progress avidly.

Riddle cleared his throat. "A nap is fine." Riddle looked like he was a second away from apparating out to escape his blunder.

"So is there a no sex in the office rule?" Harry asked with a smirk because he still hasn't found a sleeping dragon he wouldn't poke.

"Uh." Riddle grimaced. "The door doesn't lock anymore...there were problems with other ministers."

Not you? Harry wanted to ask, but he bit his lip. Instead, he asked "Ah. So about that nap?"

"Half an hour, no more," Riddle said firmly as if he wasn't wildly glad they moved past the conversation.

"So bossy."

"I am your boss."

"Kinky." Harry folded out from his perch in the desk, dropped his now empty cup of coffee in the trash. "Fine, let's go."

Walking to the upper levels of the Ministry besides Riddle was uncomfortable. Riddle was treated with the kind of deferential treatment reserved for kings. People unironically bowed, moved out of the way, and opened doors for them.

It wasn't that Harry forgot that Riddle was the unofficial dictator of Wizarding Britain. They were just joking about it. But other than acknowledging he could get killed or sent to prison for pissing Riddle off, he ignored the connotations of it. Probably out of defense of his peace of mind and sanity. And because Riddle didn't throw his title at his face very often.

A lifetime of celebrity status had numbed Harry to many things. He was used to stares, whispers, and lack of privacy wherever he went. The last three years had been a rare treat but talking to Riddle every day had put him back in the spotlight and while he didn't like it, it was a familiar pain he could ignore. At the cafeteria, people looked and whispered but between the normal loud noises of the cafeteria and Riddle's demanding presence, it was easy to ignore.

But here it was impossible to ignore. Harry's hangover headache came back with a vengeance. He was glad that even at the peak of his popularity it never reached this.

The moment they reached the office Harry dropped into the large, leather couch, closed his eyes and was dead to the world. He woke only for a moment when the door opened and then when he heard whispered voices. He turned his back to the noise but he still heard Riddle say, "No, don't worry about it. Let him sleep."

He woke up an hour later with a big yawn and stretching like a cat. Riddle was working at his desk. Without a word, Harry left the office to find some coffee and returned with two cups from a small kitchenette down the hall. He put a cup of tea in front of Riddle and sank on Riddle's plush visitor chair. When he was halfway through his coffee he opened his eyes to see Riddle watching him.

"So, what do you need help with?"

Riddle pushed him a stack of files. Harry opened the first one to see that they were bills to be approved. "What do you need me to do with them?"

"Just to look at them. See if they need to be modified or if you find some important detail that might have been overlooked."

Harry hummed in understanding. He started with the first one. Riddle might not have known it but Harry had learned to do this sort of thing before. When the name Harry Potter had meant something and his backing of a bill could mean the difference between it passing or not.

The first one seemed innocent enough at first glance, something about building permits. Harry settled for a long, boring read. As he kept reading his frown got progressively darker. When he was done he threw it to the side in disgust and took the next file. After half an hour he threw that one too with a scuff and took the next one until he was done with the pile. They all had an insidious type of discrimination that was only evident in the details. He could wail and rant to Riddle on the injustice of it all. It was probably what Riddle expected. But Harry had a better idea.

He picked up the first one and searched for the economic impact section thinking he might have missed it on the first pass. It didn't have one. He checked the others. None of them had it. It was pretty obvious why. Harry's smile turned devilish. In politics, money speaks louder than human suffering.

He looked up to see that Riddle had been watching him. "Where's the library?" he asked innocently. He was going to bring the fucking house down. Something of his thoughts must have translated because Riddle smiled as he pointed to a door.

He hadn't done Predictive Economy in years. It's a branch of divination that includes statistics for predictive models of the future. If done well, it gave scarily accurate portrayals. Thankfully it wasn't too hard nor did it need much skill in divination. But he wasn't Hermione and he didn't have the rules memorized.

At the end of the day, Harry felt profound satisfaction. He had destroyed those bills. Absolutely annihilated them. They won't be able to revive them even with an hour of CPR and a phoenix crying desperately over the papers. He had made a detailed report on the impact of the individual bills on the Wizarding economy. How (gasp!) even the upper class will see a fifteen percent drop in assets in the first ten years.

And made sure to include how the effects would ripple and still wreak havoc decades from now with disastrous effects. Then another report on how catastrophic all of them together would be (an almost twenty-five percent drop for the ultrarich in only twenty years!). There was no fucking way this was passing.

It had taken him the entire day but Harry left in a good mood.

The next morning Riddle did not mention anything about the bills during breakfast so Harry thought the matter was forgotten. Either Riddle would do something about it or he wouldn't. Harry had tried his best. The Wizarding World was better than it was in his dimension. It wasn't perfect, still as racist and classist as ever, but it was fine. And it wasn't Harry's place to "save it". He was over that shit.

It was as they were leaving that their routine changed. Riddle put an arm around him and changed direction to the upper floors.

"Where are we going?"

"To my office."

"Is the you-know-what still a rule?" Harry whispered jokingly.

Riddle sighed loudly as if he was deeply disappointed but Harry could see his ears turning red, "Regrettably."

"Then why are we going?"

"To work."

"My work is that way." Harry unnecessarily pointed in the opposite direction.

"You are working with me today."

Harry stopped. "Oh no. I have work to do, Riddle. My office needs me. It will burn without me there to supervise it." Riddle snorted but did not relent.

Harry changed tactics. "People will talk about how I'm skiving work. I'm going to get fired." Riddle laughed as if someone doing something in the Ministry without his approval was hilarious. It probably was.

"Congratulations, you've been promoted."

"I do not accept this promotion." Harry was not pouting. He wasn't.

Riddle tightened his arm as he looked at his petulant face. For a moment Harry thought Riddle was going to kiss him in the middle of the populated hall but the moment passed and they kept walking.

Riddle growled in annoyance. "You're being wasted in the communications department."

Harry huffed in protest. "I'll have you know, the communications department has never seen a better trainee in all its years. I have made a significant contribution to the functioning of my department."

"No one even knows there's a communications department. I didn't even know there was a communications department until half-way to my second term and even now I'm uncertain of its purpose."

"Exactly. No one knows it exists because for seven years it has been running smoothly. The messages reach their intended recipient even if they write a half-arsed direction or a fucking nickname. Do you know how many Mary's there are in the ministry? Thirty-seven. And most people only write To Mary with no department or even floor. How many complaints have you had with my department? None. I run a tight ship."

Riddle endured his rant with the patience of a well-seasoned politician. When Harry calmed down he only said, "It includes a pay raise."

And that was that.

Harry sighed in defeat. It's not like he could say no to more money. He was barely getting by and only because Martinez and Pike could loan him money in case of an emergency. "It better," Harry grouched. "I had a cushy job

"I'll make it worth it," Riddle whispered.

Harry shivered. Well, when he put it like that.

The promotion turned out to be Riddle's personal assistant. The post had to be made because no such job existed. He was now a salaried employed with no fixed hours. The wage was generous, especially for a Hogwart's dropout but if divided by the actual hours' Riddle was making him work, it stopped being as generous of an offer. He had less time to study and was an indentured servant. Harry would have put more of a fuss if he wasn't chronically bored.

There was a knock on the door but since it wasn't his office and Riddle was out, Harry ignored it. He was reading on the couch with one foot dangling over the edge and the other bent as a prop for his file. Two empty cups of coffee and one half-forgotten cup of tea sat on the side table and a stack of files on the floor beside him. He had started on the guest chairs, but without a desk, it quickly became too uncomfortable and Riddle didn't want him taking the papers out of his office.

Riddle had Harry looking into some money mismanagement that was quickly turning out to be systemic corruption at all levels. The money trail even led to the current Minister of Magic. It was going to be dumpster fire and Harry couldn't wait.

When someone entered Harry assumed it was Riddle and didn't look up from the file he was studying.

"Potter," someone hissed. Harry looked up to see a blond he didn't recognize looking scandalized. "Yeah?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Oh my god, get your feet off the couch and sit down properly! This is Mr. Riddle's office."

"Yeah, it is his office so why are you here giving instructions?" Harry snapped.

"Don't you have any self-preservation at all?" The obvious answer was also the wrong one so Harry kept silent. "What are you even doing here? Don't you work moping up the floors or something?"

"Are you always like this or did I catch you on a particularly good day?" Harry snarked. Yeah, the blond was drop-dead gorgeous but if he kept running that mouth Harry will happily punch him.

"You didn't answer my question, what are you doing here? Get out! This is Mr. Riddle's office." Did this person really believe he had sneaked here for shit and giggles? Harry thought about it for a moment. Well... fuck. With him, it was a possibility.

"What's your name?" Harry was pretty sure this guy was a Malfoy. He had the same stuck-up mannerism and that extra something that made you want to punch them. And there weren't that many blond prats in the Wizarding community that could enter in the highest office of the government.

The man's jaw hit the floor and his eyebrows reached his hairline. "Are you brain damaged?"

There was so much Harry could take. "Let me ask you a better question, do you want to get punched on the face?"

The blond studied his expression. "You really don't remember me?" he asked, looking shell-shocked.

Harry frowned. "Should I? Were we in the same year at Hogwarts?" Harry would have remembered a devastatingly handsome blond. Even one as annoying as this one.

The blond made a wounded noise. "I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy?"

"Huh." This Draco Malfoy was not his Draco Malfoy. This one was Lucius and Narcissa's best genes on steroids. He would have discovered he was bi much sooner if this had been his Draco. And also, RIP his Draco that never got the chance to be an annoyance here and presumably got dumped on a sock.

Harry got up in a fluid motion and tried for professionalism. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter. Mr. Riddle's new assistant."

"You are lying!" Draco hissed and Harry's jaw hurt from clenching his teeth. "I would know if Mr. Riddle had an assistant." Draco took him by the shoulder and was on his way to push Harry out of the door (not that Harry would let him) when Riddle opened the door.

Riddle's eyes immediately went from Harry's furious face to Draco and Draco's hand on Harry's shoulder. "Mr. Malfoy is there a reason you are manhandling my assistant?"

Draco dropped his hand as if it burned him. "No sir. Just saying hello to an old Hogwart's pal. Mr. Potter and I were in the same year. Congratulations on your new promotion Potter."

Harry slapped his hand on Draco's back with enough force to bowl him. He had to give credit to Malfoy; he didn't move an inch. "Thank you, old chum old pal."

"You must not have received my message, the meeting got canceled." Harry sent Riddle a triumphant look that said 'you see? My office needs me'. Riddle glared at him and very clearly expressed that Harry wasn't going anywhere even if the communications department was on fire and Harry had the only functioning wand in the world.

Draco looked from Harry to Riddle and cleared his throat to interrupt the moment. "My apologies, I'll just leave then."

"Bye Draco!" Harry waved happily and Draco made a hilarious noise of protest.

"What was that?" Riddle asked when Draco left.

Harry dropped to the couch like a rock. "Reconnecting." Draco was a prat but Harry hadn't behaved top-notch either so he wouldn't throw the blond prat under the bus just yet. And when said bus could quite literally send you to prison on a whim, it was best not to. He'll get back at Malfoy later.

He waved at the files to redirect Riddle's attention, "You are not going to say I was involved with this right? I don't want to get murdered."

Riddle frowned. "What did you find?"

"Sit down. Get comfortable. This is a long saga."

Riddle sighed and looked at the clock. It was past six. "It's late and I'm hungry. Let's go eat."