It takes several drinks, but eventually Draco feels the adrenaline start to fade. He is surprised to find that he is hungry again, so when Greg bids them goodnight after an hour of idle chatting, Draco decides to make a snack. Feeling lazy, he just makes toast and he hopes it will be enough to take the edge off of his hunger.

"Do you ever get used to his feeling?" he asks Harry as he settles himself at the kitchen table. Harry looks up from the armchair that he has draped himself in.

"What feeling?"

"This excitement."

"I mean, it's not overly exciting right now." Draco frowns and takes a bite of his toast. It is smothered in butter and then covered in cinnamon sugar. It feels like quite the indulgence for just being toast. But then, Draco reasons, he didn't get to have any dessert.

"I know it's not exciting now," he says once he has finished chewing. "But I meant earlier." Harry sighs deeply, then gets up to join Draco at the table.

"I wouldn't say you get used to it," he says slowly, staring into his whisky glass, which is all but empty now. "But you get better at dealing with it." He looks around for the whisky bottle, and, spotting it on the counter where Draco has left it, spells it over to the table. He pours some. He ends up pouring more than he had wanted, but he shrugs and begins to sip at it anyway. He looks up as Draco picks up the bottle.

"Well, if you're having more," the blonde mumbles before refilling his own glass. He finishes off his toast in another few bites and then leans back in his chair. He closes his eyes briefly and when he opens them, he blinks in astonishment, as Harry has picked up his empty plate and is walking it to the sink. Even as Draco starts to protest (feebly, to be fair), Harry picks up the sponge and runs the plate under the water.

"Thanks," Draco says as Harry places the now clean plate on the drying rack. "You didn't have to."

But Harry just shrugs off his thanks and walks back to the table.

"I'm very used to doing dishes," is all he says as he sits back down. Draco frowns at him, but he does not elaborate.

"So I take it you're staying here then?" Draco asks after a few minutes of silence. Harry looks up at him.

"If that's alright," he says. "I figured it was better for our cover."

"Of course."

"And, quite frankly," he starts to say, and then peters off. Draco watches as Harry nervously chews at a hangnail.

"And quite frankly what?" Draco prompts.

"I don't want to go home. It's lonely there."

"I'm not an emotional support puppy, Potter." Harry's eyes widen in surprise and then he gives a short bark of laughter. Draco rolls his eyes.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," the blond says, but there is no venom behind it. They finish their whiskies in silence and then, with a small nod of consent, they both rise from the table and make their way upstairs.

This time, they brush their teeth at the same time, standing at the his and, well, his sinks in Draco's bathroom. Draco spends a bit more time applying his nightly potions, but also keeps track of what Harry is using out of the corner of his eyes. He tells himself it is so that he can recommend things that Potter might need, but in reality it is because he is hyper aware of everything Potter is doing. He wishes he weren't. But seemingly, he has gone past the point of drinking until he doesn't care and gone all the way to drinking until he cares too much.

And while the whisky has dulled some of the adrenaline from earlier, it has also lowered his inhibitions. Thus, when he crawls into bed, it takes all of his will power not to move over to Potter's side of the bed and wrap his arms around the man. Because somehow, despite being tired and more than a little drunk, he is wide awake.

After a few minutes of trying to force his body to relax, he sighs loudly and turns onto his side. He starts in surprise as he finds that Potter is facing him. Potter's eyes are wide open.

When Draco doesn't look away, a smile spreads across Harry's lips. Draco swallows nervously. No good things are going to come from that smile.

"Hi," Harry whispers.

"Hello." Draco gives him a small, awkward nod. This serves to widen Harry's smile even more. Draco licks his lips. This is seemingly all of the invitation Harry needs to shuffle closer to Draco in the bed.

"This feels like more than a hello," Draco whispers. Harry snorts in amusement. He extricates his arm from under the covers and reaches out to cup Draco's face. He holds it there for a long moment before he snatches it away again, irritation flashing across his face as he does.

"We shouldn't," he says.

"No, " Draco agrees softly. "We shouldn't." Harry turns quickly onto his back and a rush of disappointment goes through Draco. But Harry stays firm, so Draco turns back over onto his other side again. It is a long time before he finally falls asleep.

...

"Morning," Draco says as he enters the kitchen the next morning. Greg looks up briefly from the Prophet and nods his hello.

"Where's Harry?" he asks when he sees that the brunet is not with Draco.

"Still sleeping," Draco grumbles.

"It must be nice being a professional celebrity," Greg says. Draco says nothing, just makes his way into the kitchen where he pours himself some coffee. When he sits down at the table, Greg passes over a section of the paper.

"You never mentioned that there was a disturbance at that event you went to," Greg says. Draco nearly chokes on his coffee.

"What's that?" Greg takes the section of the paper that he just handed to Draco and smoothes it down on the table. He points to the picture on the front page and Draco is surprised to see himself there.

"Oh, yes," he says. "That. Some diplomat was poisoned, but he's fine now. I didn't want to bring it up last night because I didn't want to worry you."

"It takes a lot to worry me," Greg says. "I've seen a lot."

"I have too," Draco says quietly, but he knows Greg probably holds the upper hand on who has seen the most shit.

"Glad you're alright though."

"Ha, same. Though, as I wasn't the one being poisoned, it's hard to say how I wouldn't have been."

"Still." Greg shrugs and pushes the paper back at Draco. "All yours," he says and turns back to reading.

Draco flips through the paper, swapping sections with Greg once he finishes the first, but nothing jumps out at him. He is kind of relieved. While he knows what he would do if he sees something that sparks the Reliquary, he is more than happy to have a stress free and normal morning.

Of course, when they get to work, it is anything but a normal morning. As Draco had guessed, he and Harry are on the cover of Witch Weekly. And it is the picture of them kissing. Because of course it is. Witch Weekly doesn't deal in subtlety. Subtlety doesn't sell magazines.

So Draco is greeted by an entire display case of pictures of himself playing tonsil Quidditch with, as the headline put it "Britain's most eligible wizarding bachelor". Just looking at the picture, it is obvious how into each other they are. Damn it. Draco prays that Pansy thinks he's just a good actor. He stares at it for a long moment, because while he may be biased, it's a very sexy picture. He's going to need to get a copy for himself when no one is looking.

"Hey there, lover boy," someone says as Draco enters the back room. It is Luca. Draco scowls at him. Luca, undeterred, waggles his eyebrows at him and wiggles his hips.

"Quiet down," Big Dick says, waving his arms to get everyone's attention. Draco is more than happy for the shift in attention. "Now that we're all here, I would like to introduce you to your newest coworker!"

Draco can tell that Big Dick is excited. His ruddy face is shining with a thin sheen of sweat, not usually seen this early in the day. His excitement has sparked an interest within the team. Jamie actually looks up. He is still wearing a bored expression, but for Jamie, that's rapt attention. Even Joe and Luca stop talking and look over at Big Dick.

"Pansy Parkinson!" He pushes Pansy out in front of the crowd from where she had been standing behind him, concealed somewhat by his bulk. Pansy gives the group a quick wave and then stands to the side.

With Pansy's introduction out of the way, Big Dick goes on to the rest of the announcements, and Draco mostly tunes him out. Something to do with them expecting a continued stream Hogwarts students. He sidles up to Pansy.

"Hi," he whispers.

"Hello."

"Are you excited to work on this stellar team?"

"I'm sure it will be delightful." Draco snorts in laughter.

"I would avoid Joe and Luca if you know what's good for you."

"You think I can't handle them?" Pansy asks in a tone that suggests she takes this as a challenge.

"Oh, you could probably curse them from here to Wednesday with your eyes closed and your hands tied behind your back, but you can't do that here."

"Are you implying that I don't know how an undercover assignment works?"

"Um," Draco says. Pansy is staring daggers at him. After glaring for long enough that she is certain that he is uncomfortable, Pansy rolls her eyes.

"Whatever," she says. "Anything in the paper this morning?" He shakes his head. "Good. Let me know if anything comes up." She moves a step away from him and goes back to listening to Big Dick, so Draco has nothing else to do but the same.

"And lastly," Big Dick says. "I'm sure you have seen our Draco on the cover of Witch Weekly." All eyes turn to Draco. He gives them all an awkward wave and then rolls his eyes at the enthusiastic thumbs up that Joe is giving him. The grin on Joe's face is so wide that it is disturbing and while Joe is not the kind of person that Draco would think would be attracted to Harry, he is also quite sure that Joe would fuck a sausage roll if there were no other options.

"So be on the watch for any gossip magazine witches." As Draco watches, Luca nudges Joe and quite obviously mouths 'gossip witches' at him. They bounce excitedly on the balls of their feet. He fights the urge to roll his eyes again. But then, Draco figures, if Joe and Luca are distracting said gossip witches, perhaps Draco himself can just get on with his job.

Big Dick wraps up his speech with a reminder that the Assistant Manager position is still open if anyone, and he really means anyone at this point, wants to apply, they should go ahead and do so. Then he shoos them off into the store. Draco immediately flees to the dark corner where the books on Herbology live, happy to get away from his coworkers' staring eyes. He doesn't notice Pansy behind him and so jumps when hears her voice in his ear,

"Your coworkers are dicks."

"Only some of them."

"Most of them."

"You only just met them," Draco protests.

"And yet, I still know that they're awful." Draco sighs and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"Greg's not bad."

"I haven't seen him yet."

"He's here."

"I know." She is frowning for reasons that Draco doesn't understand. He wonders for the first time if Pansy has seen Greg since the war, and if not, what her feelings currently are towards him. He decides to head this off.

"He's changed, you know," he says quietly.

"Who, Goyle?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure he has," she says. "We all have."

Draco looks at his watch and watches as the seconds roll over from eight fifty nine to nine am. He hears the chime of the bell as Big Dick props the door open. They are not anticipating the rush that they had on the first of August, but there will be a steady trickle of regular patrons and Hogwarts families who decided to wait until later in the month to get their supplies. Draco is looking forward to being distracted by customers. He still feels a little unsettled from last night's mission and he wants the banal interactions of his day to numb those feelings away.

"Hi Pansy," a voice says and then Greg appears from around the nearest bookshelf. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Pansy tense for a moment before a smile breaks out on her face. If he hadn't been watching her, he would never have noticed her tension. As it is, Greg is oblivious to it. He reaches out his arms and pulls her into a hug.

"Long time, no see," he says. Pansy stands there for a moment, looking a bit like a deer caught in wandlights (but only because Draco is looking for it) before disentangles herself from his arms.

"Yeah, it's been what? Ten years?" she says.

"I haven't seen you since school, so, yes, it must be."

"The whole gang, back together," Greg says. He beams at Draco who gives him a small smile. No one mentions Crabbe. Of course they don't.

"Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson to the manager's office." Big Dick's voice booms around the store. Draco and Pansy look at each other. Draco shrugs.

"See you around," Greg calls after them as they set off across the store.

Behind the camouflage charm, the storefront to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop looks much the way it did at the end of the war. The windows are boarded up and the door hangs slightly off of its frame. Many people don't know why it has never been reopened, but Harry does.

In June of 1998, Harry, unmoored from responsibility after the defeat of Voldemort, had been aimlessly wandering down Diagon Alley when he had come across the boarded up shop. He remembered Florean from the summer before third year, when the kindly man had helped him with his History of Magic homework and had given him free ice cream. He'd heard that Florean had been killed by the Death Eaters, but it had taken seeing the shop like this before Florean's death had really hit home for Harry - and with it, the full impact of the war that he had just ended. For it was not just Florean who had died. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people had been killed at the hands of the Death Eaters. And for what? It had all seemed so pointless.

And nothing had made the war feel more pointless than standing in front of the burnt out, boarded up ice cream shop. It was an ice cream shop for god's sake.

Harry must have started crying, because the next thing he remembers is looking up, the building wavering through hot tears, and deciding to buy the place. He'd bought it to remind himself that unjust things could happen for the most pointless or mundane of reasons. And he had kept it to remind himself why he went to work every day: because he wanted to spend his life working against such wrongdoings.

But now it was time to fix the place up. The Parlour was just a few doors down from Flourish and Blotts, so Harry would be able to keep an eye on Draco while he worked there during the day. It was not that he didn't trust Pansy to do it, except, well, he didn't really trust Pansy to do it. After all, she had killed Oliver. Or let him die. Same difference in Harry's mind. And while Dempsey, Croaker and Hermione all seemed to trust her, Harry still did not.

When Harry had suggested reopening The Parlour to Hermione, she had seemed pleased with his ingenuity and had immediately approved both the funds and the team to do it.

"I don't know how long this assignment is going to be," she had said. "So having a permanent base close to Malfoy's work makes a lot of sense." Harry hadn't thought of turning it into a base, but once Hermione had said it, it made sense. They could check in with her from Diagon Alley as opposed to going halfway across the city each time. They could store potions equipment and magical weapons there, all the while having a stronghold a few doors down if every they needed it. It was perfect.

And, as a bonus, there would be ice cream.

"It's strange seeing her again," Greg says to Draco once Draco is freed from Big Dick's office and back in the main store. Big Dick had instructed Draco to train Pansy in the art of selling books. Pansy had nodded and smiled and agreed with Big Dick during the meeting, but once they had shut his office door behind them, she'd told him in no uncertain terms that she did not need training and walked off.

"What? Oh, yes. Very strange," Draco says.

"I wonder what spurred her to get a job here. I would have thought this was beneath her."

"You would have thought this was beneath me a few years ago," Draco says. Greg lets out a guffaw but nods his agreement.

"True," he says. "And now look at us."

"The world's okay-est employees," Draco says.

"Speak for yourself."

"I didn't say we were bad."

"Who's bad?" Draco turns to see Luca jump out from behind a display of staff picked books.

"No one," Draco says quickly.

"Because we could be," Joe says, appearing behind Luca. "We've been good for like a whole week now."

"No," Draco says.

"Are you sure? I've been saying for a while now that we should make a book fort."

"No," Draco says again, this time more emphatically. Joe looks crestfallen. "No book fort today," he amends. Luca looks up at Draco with sad eyes. "Maybe once the Hogwarts term starts up again and we're less busy." Luca punches the air in triumph, his dark eyes shining.

"Right you are, boss," he says. He turns to Joe. "September second, mate. It's going to be epic." Draco slaps a hand to his forehead but Joe and Luca are already moving off and don't see him.

"Are you suggesting that you're not going to help?" Greg asks.

"What?"

"Because a book fort sounds like a lot of fun." Draco relents.

"It does," he agrees.

...

Pansy spends most of her morning avoiding Greg. While she will take Draco's word that he's changed, she is not overtly willing to have a conversation with him yet. She knows what Azkaban can do to people and she hasn't had enough sleep to deal with a broken version of the friend she once knew.

Instead, she talks to the other Flourish and Blotts employees. Or, more accurately, she talks to Emma who is the least awful of them. As the morning progresses, Pansy wonders how Draco puts up with it. The Draco she knew in school would have spent all of his time belittling his coworkers and winding them up, but he even seems to be friends with some of them.

But then, she thinks she remembers Draco mentioning that he's friends with Hannah Abbott now, so perhaps some of her Hufflepuff-ness has rubbed off on him. If so, Pansy thinks, it's for the better. Draco in school had been a prickly fellow, and often just a straight up dick.

Granted, it can't have been easy for him to have spent his entire school career both in the closet and lusting after the one person he really couldn't have. At least his teenage self would be pleased with how that turned out - even if it is just a cover relationship.

Pansy can tell that Draco still likes Potter. She can see it in the way his gaze lingers a little too long on him or the way that he blushes (faintly - he's a Malfoy after all) when Potter brushes against him. Most of all she can see it in their Witch Weekly cover. She'd seen Draco make out with people at Hogwarts, and she can see that Draco is most definitely enjoying himself in that photo. She wonders if this crush makes the fake relationship easier or harder. Then her mind goes to the next logical place, of 'is their relationship actually for show or is there something going on there?' It had to be fake, right? There was no way that Potter would break protocol like that, not with an asset.

She makes a mental note to watch them together the next time she has the opportunity.

...

Around lunchtime, Draco looks up to hear a chorus of oohs, which permeates the entire store. He groans. That can only mean one thing. Harry is here.

He nervously pats down his hair and saunters (casually he hopes) into the main aisle where he finds said brunet, loitering by the Witch Weekly's, all of which depict the two of them passionately making out on the cover. (Draco had successfully snuck one into his locker earlier for later wanking sessions.)

"Hey gorgeous," Harry says, walking over to Draco and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

"Hello," Draco says once his mouth is no longer otherwise occupied.

"When do you get a lunch break?" Harry asks. Draco consults his watch.

"In about fifteen minutes," he says.

"Care to spend it with me?" Harry asks, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Draco shrugs.

"Sure."

"Good, I brought sandwiches. I thought we could take a stroll down Diagon Alley." This sound like a bit of an odd idea, so Draco immediately thinks there must be something else behind it.

"Sounds lovely,' he says.

"Mr. Potter, excuse me." An excited Luca emerges from behind the Witch Weekly stand. Draco groans, but Harry turns around, a good natured smile already on his face.

"What can I do for you?" he asks.

"Can you sign my copy of Witch Weekly?" Luca holds out a Weasley's Self Inking Quill and a copy of the magazine that Draco is almost one hundred percent sure has just come from the rack and that Luca has not paid for.

"Of course," Harry says. He takes the quill and the magazine and scrawls his signature over part of the background of their picture. He hands it back to Luca. Luca turns too Draco.

"Draco?" He proffers the magazine at him.

"No." Luca's face falls.

"Oh, go on," Harry says. "Why not?" Draco glowers at him, but Harry just smiles blithely back at him. With a grumble, he acquiesces, scribbling his name near Harry's. He resists adding a 'fuck you' to it. Barely. Luca punches the air, flushed with success, and runs off to show Joe. Draco glares at his retreating back. When he turns back to Harry, the brunet is laughing.

"What?" he snaps.

"Just your face."

"Luca tends to do that to me."

"He seems harmless."

"The operative word there being 'seems'." Harry laughs again and Draco checks his watch.

"I can probably duck out a few minutes early," he says. "My main responsibility for the day is to train Pansy, but I haven't seen much of her, and she seems perfectly capable of selling books and stocking shelves."

"Shall we then?" Harry asks, jerking his head towards the door. Draco nods and they make their way towards it. Harry slips his hand into Draco's and interlaces their fingers.

Leaving the store, Draco expects to turn right and is therefore surprised when Harry leads them the other way. A frown crosses his face while he tries to determine where they are going, but he soon figures it out when Harry stops outside of the newly refurbished Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

"Ta da," Harry says. He drops Draco's hand and gestures excitedly at the storefront.

...

"I thought we were having sandwiches," Draco says, staring up at the brightly colored awning.

"We are," Harry assures him. "But I also wanted to show you this."

It had taken a team of thirty Ministry architects and builders all morning to patch up the burnt out storefront and install the secret base below. Harry was very excited about it. He had bee adamant about the decorations. Florean Fortescue (RIP) was still featured prominently on the sign and the new exterior matched the old as well as Harry could remember it. They had even found Florean's original recipe book hidden in the false bottom of a drawer. Ministry (house) elves were currently whipping up the first batches in over ten years.

"It's the ice cream parlor," Draco says. "What about it?"

"Not just any ice cream parlor though," Harry says. "It's newly refurbished and reopened under new management."

"Is this your way of saying that you just opened an ice cream parlor?" Draco asks. His tone is bored. Harry sighs.

"Yes," he says. "I thought you might be more excited."

"I mean, I like ice cream," Draco says with a shrug.

"Anyway, let's go inside." Harry takes Draco's hand again and drags him inside. If Draco seems surprised that Harry is taking him to the back of the store, it doesn't show on his face. Harry briefly wonders if Draco is thinking they're going to the back of the store to make out. But then he banishes that thought from his mind. Harry ushers Draco through the door to the backroom, and then pushes him in front of the false set of shelves. Draco stares at it for a moment and then turns to Harry.

"What are we doing?" he asks.

"Welcome to the Cooler."

"We're in a fucking closet, Potter. And it's not even cold."

"Or is it the entrance to a secret Ministry base?" Harry makes jazz hands in excitement.

"It looks like a closet."

"You're really trying to take away my fun, aren't you?" Harry asks, putting his arms back down. A brief smirk crosses Draco's face before he recomposes his features.

"Perhaps."

Harry sighs. He walks over to the shelves and puts his hand against the hidden magical panel in the side of shelving unit. There is a small, happy sounding ding and the shelving unit moves backwards and to the side, revealing a staircase leading down.

"Very impressive," Draco drawls, sounding so much like his irritating teenage self that Harry feels a flash of annoyance.

"Come on," he says. He takes Draco by the arm and drags him through the hidden door and into the Cooler. They emerge at the top of a stairway, which they descend.

Downstairs is a large open plan office. There is a large blank wall on one side, in front of which sits a table with four chairs. Along another is a large window, which looks into a room filled with a variety of potions ingredients on shelves. It reminds Harry somewhat of Snape's old storerooms, but if they had been brightly lit and modern. In front of the window is another table on which sits a pair of cauldrons. In one corner of the room sits a sofa and a pair of armchairs arranged around a coffee table, because no one should be forced to sit at uncomfortable tables and chairs for their entire day. There is a door set into the far wall that leads to a series of corridors, off of which are a number of holding cells, along with a weapons storage room and various training rooms. There is even a small gym, which Parkinson will be delighted to find has a punching bag in it.

"What do you think?" Harry asks, turning to Draco. The blond, for his part, is staring at the room with wide eyes. He had clearly not expected this to be behind the secret door in the closet.

"I think it's," and here Draco pauses, still staring around, mouth agape, at the room. "It's cool," he says eventually. Harry slaps a hand to his forehead.

"I spent all morning planning this out, and you just make a joke about it." He scowls and starts to make his way down the stairs. Draco follows.

...

"I actually didn't mean to make the joke. I meant that this place is awesome." Draco looks around the room, eyes wide.

"Oh." Harry turns around. "Good. Because I spent all morning on it."

"All morning, huh?" Draco smirks at him.

"Now you're being sarcastic, aren't you?"

"Yes, Potter." Harry presses his lips into an irritated line and then gestures towards the table.

"Come on," he says. "Hermione's going to do our full debrief now."

"Shouldn't Pansy be here too?"

"Pansy is here," Pansy's voice says. Draco whips around and sees that she is walking down the stairs. "Pansy had to figure out where this was on her own because someone didn't want to bring her personally."

"His cover is that he's dating me, Parkinson," Harry says. "Not that we're a threesome." Pansy shoots him a withering glare but joins them at the table. They sit and Harry taps his wand on a small box in the middle of the table. The box glows and then projects an image onto the blank wall in front of them. It is of an office. After a moment, Granger comes into view as she kneels down next to what is presumably the fireplace.

"Team," she says once she is comfortable. Draco isn't sure where his eyes should look in order to be polite - at the screen or at the box - but follows Pansy's lead in looking at the wall. "First of all, I would like to congratulate you again on a successful mission. Thanks to your work, Thiessen is in custody, as is his associate. And thanks to Malfoy's quick thinking, Heilgar Mottiç will make a full recovery and be no worse for wear." Draco feels his chest swell with pride. He'd done something good. Something great even. He'd saved a life.

As Hermione continues to talk, Draco's mind wanders. He is beginning to think that perhaps this whole Reliquary accident could be his chance to atone for his actions during the war. If he can help the Ministry catch new dark wizards and foil other dastardly plots, perhaps he will start to feel less guilty - both about the war and about reading that damn book. He wonders if that is why Oliver sent it to him. That seems unlikely, but, he realizes with a pang of sadness, they will never know why Oliver sent Draco the book.

Draco takes a deep breath and tries to concentrate on what Granger is saying.

"So we will let you know if our interrogators manage to get any information out of Thiessen about who had hired him and why. Did anyone have anything else to add?" Draco realizes he has missed most of the debrief. He hopes there was nothing important discussed. He doesn't think there had been, or they would likely have called his attention to it. He is the Reliquary after all.

He hadn't realized how important he could be until they were in the ballroom and he had spotted Thiessen's associate, Earles. Sure, Earles was a known associate, but he doubted either Potter or Pansy would have known that. He was both excited to be important and dreading having to go on more missions. But both Potter and Pansy would be with him, so he was sure he would be fine.

"Malfoy," Granger's voice snaps him to attention again.

"What's that?"

"Did you see anything in the paper this morning?"

"No," he says. "I read it cover to cover and nothing sparked." Granger frowns at him and cocks her head to the side.

"Sparked?"

"Er, yes," he says. "That's what it feels like when I see something. Like it sparks a memory. So for lack of any other word, I've been calling it sparking."

"Interesting," Hermione makes a note on the parchment that she has in her lap. "Well, do let either Parkinson or Potter know if anything does," she pauses, "spark for you."

"Of course." She nods at them and then waves her wand and the image fades out.

"Now," Draco says. "I was promised sandwiches?"