The remainder of the week flies by and then it's Friday and the day of Hannah's party. Big Dick has encouraged the Flourish and Blott's staff to dress up for Halloween, so Draco puts on his costume from the year before.
Greg looks visibly affronted when he walks into the store dressed in a Prada suit with silver glitter devil's horns.
"The Devil Wears Prada again?" he asks. Draco shrugs.
"I'm saving the joint costume for tonight," he says.
"Boring," Greg says.
"You just want to know what it is."
"Yes, and?"
"And you're wearing last year's costume too." It is true. Greg is wearing his vampire costume, with his hair slicked back and an emphasized widows peak.
"You're no fun." Draco shrugs again and walks off only to be accosted by Joe and Luca who are dressed as jungle explorers.
"We heard there was a party tonight," Joe says.
"A really good party," Luca adds. Draco schools his face into a mask of indifference.
"Is there?" he asks.
"Don't play dumb with us, Malfoy," Luca hisses, trying to look threatening, but instead he merely looks short sighted.
"I am sure that I don't know what you're talking about," Draco says and pushes past them. Undeterred, they follow him all the way into the stock room.
"Please," wheedles Joe.
"Pretty please," Luca says. Draco rounds on them.
"Look," he says. "It's not my party. I can't give out the details."
"Oh, so it's a party with a secret keeper then?" Joe asks. "You literally can't give out details? Only the person throwing it can?"
"Something like that," Draco says, even though it is not. Knowing Hannah, if Joe and Luca asked her if they could attend, she would graciously say yes, but Draco spends enough time with the pair at work that he doesn't want to see them in his off hours too.
"Whose party is it?" Joe asks. Draco mimes zipping up his lips and shakes his head.
"Fine," Luca says. "We'll go ask Greg. Come on, Joe." He takes Joe by the hand and drags him back out into the store. Draco watches as the stock room door closes behind them before rolling his eyes. Then he turns his attention to the new inventory of books that they've received and begins cataloging them.
It is dull but he makes quick work of it, leaving a tidy list pinned to the wall before heading back out onto the sales floor. He finds Joe and Luca pestering Greg, who is pointedly ignoring them.
"Please please please please please," Luca cries, circling Greg as though he were prey.
"Come on, Greg," Joe says. "You know you want to."
Draco catches Greg's eye above Luca's head and notes the irritation there. He grins at his friend from across the store and receives a scowl in return. He crosses the floor and walks up to them.
"As much fun as it is to watch you harass your coworker," Draco says once he is within earshot. "I think it's best you get back to work." Joe and Luca fall silent and glare at Draco. Draco shoos them along with his hands and they scarper.
"Thanks," Greg says. "I was about to cave."
"You held up for a good while."
"I've been subjected to Ministry interrogation, but the Hit Wizards have nothing on Joe and Luca."
"Don't let-" Draco almost says Pansy but corrects himself at the last minute "-Pansy's sister, Daisy, hear you say that." Greg looks puzzled for a moment before nodding and Draco is worried that Pansy is going to have to confund him again.
"Is Pansy going to Hannah's party?" Greg asks, suddenly perking up.
"Why?"
"No reason," Greg says quickly.
"Aha!" comes an excited cry from behind the nearest bookshelf. "It's Hannah's party!"
"Oh fuck."
…
Hannah and Ernie's party, predictably, is amazing. They have transformed their entire house for the event, save for the bedrooms which are "colloportused shut to prevent shenanigans" according to Ernie. Every room has a different theme and Harry, Greg and Draco have a lot of fun going through all of them with Hannah before the rest of the guests arrive. Harry laughs briefly when they enter the upstairs corridor, which is entirely coated in fake cobwebs with realistic spiders crawling over it.
"What's funny?" Hannah asks.
"I guarantee you, Ron is not going to come in here," he says. "He hates spiders." And then he launches into a story about Harry and Ron going to the Forbidden Forrest in their second year and confronting hundreds of acromantulae, which Draco thinks must be fiction until Harry assures him that it actually happened.
"No," Draco says a few minutes later, in the guest bedroom while he and Harry are changing into their costumes. "You've got to be fucking with me. There's no way you went into an acromantula lair at the age of twelve and lived to tell the tale."
"But I did," Harry says. "And then I went into a basilisk's lair later that year and again lived to tell the tale."
"Circe, you're insane."
"I did what I had to do," Harry says, shrugging. "Meanwhile, I seem to recall you thinking the whole people getting petrified thing was pretty funny." Harry's tone is teasing but Draco flushes, ashamed of his past self.
"I was twelve," he says. "And an idiot."
"I don't think you were an idiot," Harry says gently. "I think you were brought up to think a certain way. And you were twelve."
"I was delighting in the fact that people might die, Potter. I was a dick."
"Do you want me to be upset with you?" Harry asks lightly, turning to face Draco. He is in the process of buttoning up his shirt and the flannel hangs partway open. Draco does his best not to let his eyes linger there.
"No. Yes. I don't know." He puts his hands up to his head. "I feel like I'm still atoning for my younger self. I deserve more people to be angry with me." He moves his hands down to his face, pressing his palms into his eyes. A moment later, he feels Harry lift his hands away. He opens his eyes and finds Harry staring into them with an expression of concern on his face.
"No," Harry says. "You don't."
"But I do."
"No," Harry says again, this time more fiercely. And then the brunet's arms are around him and Harry is clutching him close. Draco stiffens for a moment and Harry hugs him tighter. Reluctantly, Draco relaxes into Harry's arms. He rests his head on Harry's shoulder and all the confusion about their relationship washes over him all at once. Because Harry is holding him and whispering nice things in his ear about how he's no longer the self absorbed arsehole he was in school and he thinks it's real but he's not sure.
He can't help it. He starts to cry, tears silently spilling out of his eyes and down his face. He feels so safe in Harry's arms. So safe and wanted, and for a moment he can convince himself that it's real.
"I don't deserve you," he whispers before he can stop himself. "But then, I don't really have you," he adds sadly. He doesn't think he has said the last part loud enough for anyone but himself to have heard it, but evidently Harry does.
"Yes, you do," Harry says. Draco's heart stutters.
"What?" he asks, pulling back to look at Harry's face. Harry holds his gaze, his face serious.
"You do have me," is all that Harry says and then he reaches up and gently wipes the tears off of Draco's face.
"Oh," Draco says. He doesn't know what else to say. "But we're not supposed-"
"-I know and I don't care." Draco's eyebrows slowly rise in surprise. His mouth falls open. Harry still hasn't looked away and this is making Draco's heart pound somewhere in the region of his throat. He swallows nervously, snapping his mouth shut.
"Damn it," Harry says."I wish I knew how to quit you." The tension breaks.
"Oh, don't you fucking Brokeback Mountain me, Potter," Draco snaps. "Even if we are dressed like this." He gestures down at the sheepskin lined jacket he's wearing.
"I couldn't resist," Harry says with a grin. "But I don't actually want to quit you. I was just getting in character." He rests his hand on Draco's cheek again, stroking it gently with his thumb. Draco's breath hitches and he swallows nervously. He's not used to their intimacy being real, so even though the feel of Harry's body against his is familiar, it is new at the same time.
Harry leans in and kisses him softly. His mouth lingers on Draco's for a long moment before he pulls back again.
"Come on," he says. "Let's finish getting dressed and join the party." Draco nods even though all he wants to do is stay here, alone with Harry, and delight in the fact that their fake relationship might not be as fake as he had previously thought. He wants to nail down exactly what Potter means when he says that Draco does have him. But Harry is right. This is a party and they need to go and socialize and keep up their cover that might not be a cover after all.
...
Harry feels as though a great weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. He hadn't meant to tell Draco about his feelings for him, but the moment had come up and Harry couldn't bear to hurt him again with a lie. He knows they need to talk about this more - it's complicated after all - but at least now Draco knows that when Harry holds his hand, it's because he likes him and not because he feels like he has to keep up a charade.
They do, of course, still need to keep up their charade. So, once they've gotten two glasses of punch, Harry presses Draco up against an upright coffin in the living room, and kisses him until Greg walks in and loudly tells them to get a room.
"We're in character," Draco informs him. Greg frowns at them, taking in their cowboy hats and jeans.
"Brokeback Mountain?"
"Bingo."
"What are you supposed to be?" Draco asks. Greg is dressed in a very padded green and blue sports uniform complete with helmet and ice skates. There is a large white W with what looks like a tail above it splashed across the front.
"A hockey player," Greg says proudly. He spins and Draco can see that he is in fact hovering a few centimeters off of the floor in his skates.
"How did you do that?" he asks, gesturing at the skates.
"A little levitation charm," Greg says with a shrug. "I've been practicing in them all week." He turns again and skates through the air away from them, then turns and skates back.
"I think you win," Harry says. "That's a great costume." Greg's face lights up in a smile.
"Of course," Draco says with a smirk. "It will be hilarious when he gets drunk and falls over." Greg scowls at him but concedes that he has a point.
…
A moment later, Harry is hailed by a pair of zombies and he drags Draco away. Inwardly, Draco sighs, realizing this party won't be like Hannah's other parties where he and Greg had spent most of their night trying to teach people Exploding Gobstones Snap, but instead will include socializing with Harry and any of the guests Harry knows. He is oddly sad about this.
Harry hugs the male zombie and Draco realizes with a start that it is Ron Weasley. He looks more closely at the female zombie and sees that it is Granger. Great. No party is ever complete without your boss.
"Ah, Malfoy," Weasley says. "So you're the reason we haven't seen Harry in months." Draco forces a smile onto his face.
"Guilty as charged."
"Ron," Granger says, taking Weasley's arm. "You've also been busy with work." Weasley waves her off.
"Details," he says, but he leans over and kisses her cheek conciliatorily. Without thinking about it, Draco reaches over and takes Harry's hand. Harry squeezes his fingers and warmth spreads through Draco's chest.
"How is work?" Harry asks. Weasley shrugs.
"Fine. But no one wants to talk about work, Harry. I want to hear about you two." He gestures between Harry and Draco. "When Hermione told me you were together, I didn't believe her until she showed me the Witch Weekly cover and then it was hard not to believe it." Weasley winks at Harry in a way that is meant to seem casual but Draco can tell that he is still unnerved by their relationship.
Draco can hardly blame him. The last time Draco had really seen the redhead was at the Battle of Hogwarts, and it had been a less than stellar appearance on Draco's part. True, he hadn't tried to kill any of them the way that Crabbe had, but he had rather stuffed up the situation all the same, trying to kidnap Harry to win favor for his family.
Images of Fiendfyre crackle in front of his eyes and he does his best to repress a shudder. He grips Harry's hand more tightly, willing the flashback to end, willing it to not ruin his night. Harry saved you, he thinks desperately. Remember the part where he scooped you up and flew you out of the room. He is clutching Harry's hand so hard now that Harry turns to look at him in concern. He forces a smile onto his face. He doesn't want to make a scene.
"Who wants a drink?" Harry asks. Weasley's eyes light up and the four of them turn towards the kitchen.
Once Weasley is distracted by the Kreacher run bar ("Kreacher working, Harry? Blimey."), Harry turns to Draco.
"Are you okay?" he asks quietly. Draco nods. He is now. He stares into Harry's eyes as his breathing slows to a normal rate again. Harry leans forward and kisses him gently on his temple and then rests their foreheads together for a moment. Draco breathes in Harry's bergamot and citrus scent. He pulls back and knocks the rest of his drink back and gestures towards the bar. Harry nods.
…
Pansy shifts uneasily from foot to foot. She knows she shouldn't be nervous. This, after all the things she's done in her career, is nothing. And yet…
But Greg had invited her, saying that it would be fun.
And so Pansy is dressed as a cat, standing on Hannah Abbott's doorstep. Behind her stand Joe and Luca, who had seized upon the fact that another coworker was going to Hannah's party and had followed her. They had assured her that they had been invited, but she is not sure, and that's another reason for her nerves.
The door swings open and Pansy is greeted by a vision in white. The figure seems to have its own light source and Pansy puts a hand up in front of her eyes in an attempt to block it. The light fades and Pansy recognizes Hannah, in spite of the waist-length blond hair and still faintly glowing white dress.
"The Lady Galadriel welcomes you," Hannah says, gesturing for them to enter. Once they are inside, she breaks character and greets Pansy warmly. Pansy smiles and follows her down the corridor while she chatters on about Greg and Draco. Pansy has of course seen Hannah at the Leaky Cauldron with the pair of them, but she never stays as late as Potter, so she still feels slightly awkward. She had been a bitch to Hannah during Hogwarts, but if Hannah had been offended by her, she has never shown it.
"Anyway, it's so good to see you," Hannah says, finishing her long monologue. Pansy realizes she hasn't really listened to any of it. She has been too distracted by both the decorations, which are amazing, and her own feelings of schooltime regret.
"Yes, it's good to see you too," she says, smiling and realizing she doesn't have to fake it. A man with long blond hair, green clothing and a bow walks up to them. Pansy stares at him. It takes her a moment to realize that it's Ernie MacMillen under the elf costume.
"MacMillen," she acknowledges, with a nod of her head.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Ernie," he says, grinning at her. "Let's get you a drink." He takes her by the arm and steers her away through another highly decorated room and to a bar that's being manned by the grumpiest house elf Pansy thinks she's ever seen. It is there that she finds Potter and Draco. Much to her displeasure, they are with Granger and Weasley, who are dressed as such convincing zombies that she reaches for her wand for a second.
She waits until she has a drink in hand before she greets them, and once the alcohol starts to hit her bloodstream, she realizes that this party might not be as terrible as she thought it was going to be. So long as she can avoid Joe and Luca.
"Nice costume," says a voice behind her. "Didn't think we would actually see you here." She turns around to find Greg towering over her. He has grown since she saw him at work and she looks down to see that he is wearing ice skates and hovering several millimeters off of the floor.
"Meow," she says in response. Greg smiles.
"Care to go for a spin?" he asks.
"Excuse me?"
"On my ice skates."
"How?" But the rest of her sentence is cut off as Greg lifts her off the floor and places her feet over his. They are on eye level now and she arches an eyebrow at him. "This is rather forward, isn't it?"
"Relax, Pans," he says. "I'm not trying to hit on you."
"Then why are our noses so close?"
"Would you like me to hit on you?"
"No."
"Then just think of this as a spin around the dance floor between friends." Greg turns them around and they glide over the floor to a cleared space that's bordered by gravestones. Pansy clutches at the front of Greg's jersey and he wraps his arms around her waist to stop her from falling.
"You're sure you're not hitting on me?"
"I'm pretty sure you would hex my balls off if I did, what, seeing as you're a hit wizard and all." Pansy stiffens in surprise and Greg looks pleadingly at her. "Please don't confund me again."
"What?" she splutters. "How?"
"A well placed protego. Joe, on the other hand, is fully convinced you're just a Flourish and Blott's employee like the rest of us."
"So what is this then?" she asks. "A shakedown?" At this, Greg laughs and spins them around, causing Pansy to clutch at him again. She should really just step off of his feet, but she can't quite bring herself to do it.
"It's an intimate conversation."
"In which case, is that a Dark Mark on your arm?" Greg's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and they slowly stop spinning.
"Yes. How did you-"
"-Know? I saw it in Seventh Year." He takes a moment to digest this and then nods slowly.
"Then you know I was young and stupid," he says quietly. They are still now. Pansy could just shrug out of his arms and walk away, but she doesn't.
"I know," she says.
"And I'm not that person anymore."
"I know."
"Good," he says. "Now tell me what you're investigating." Pansy can't help it. She bursts out laughing.
"Seriously? That's your tactic?" Greg looks sheepish. "Do you even know what my rank is? I'm a Major. You can't pull that kind of shit on me."
"Major, huh?"
"Yes. And you would do damn well to remember that."
"Then what the hell are you doing working at Flourish and Blott's?" He pushes off with one leg and starts to move them around the floor again, holding her tight.
"Circe, Greg. Do you really think this is going to make me tell you? It's none of your damn business."
"Is it me? Is it because of that?" He nods his head in the direction of his left arm, but does not let go of her. They are circling the dance floor quite quickly now, and people have stopped to watch. So Pansy laughs, playing it off like they're just having fun.
Greg frowns at her and she flicks her eyes towards the now gathering crowd. He slows and they stop in the middle of the floor. She jumps delicately down from his feet and bows to the onlookers. They clap and she takes Greg's hand and leads him to a room with various small seating areas. She pushes him down onto a couch and then sits down next to him.
"Now obviously I can't tell you why I'm working at the bookstore, but don't worry, it has nothing to do with you."
"But you would say that even if it did." She sighs.
"Well, yes. But really, it's nothing to do with you. Now drop it or I'll confund you again."
"Is that a threat?" he asks.
"Yes, you idiot."
"Ok, I'll drop it." He raises his hands in surrender. "But I'll have you know, I'm not an idiot. I'm just quiet. Crabbe was the idiot."
"Whatever you say, Goyle," she says and he stiffens. Pansy is surprised to realize that this is the first thing he's really been upset about during their whole conversation.
"Don't call me that," he says. "Please just call me Greg."
"If it bothers you so much, why don't you change your name?"
"I can't. The Ministry forbids former Death Eaters from changing their names. Something to do with still having to atone for our crimes." Pansy nods. She had forgotten about the Avery law. After all, none of her family had been Death Eaters, so they hadn't had to deal with it.
Greg leans back, sighing deeply. Then he lifts up his head to look at her.
"That got dark fast," he says and cracks a smile.
"You started it," she says. "By kidnapping me on your ice skates." He claps a hand to his chest.
"You wound me. It was a dance between friends."
"D'you want another drink?" she asks.
"Why not? It's a party." She leaves him and walks back to the bar. The previously grumpy house elf is animatedly bowing to Draco. Pansy sidles up to Draco and nudges him.
"Do you think you can ask your friend here to make me two old fashioneds?"
"Two old fashioneds for Master Draco's friend?" the elf croaks. "Certainly." He busies himself with bottles and Pansy turns to Draco.
"Master Draco?" she asks. "Since when did you have a house elf?"
"He's Harry's," Draco says. "But he likes me better because my mother was a Black."
"Filthy blood traitor Potter," the elf mumbles but there is no real venom behind it. Pansy bites back a laugh. The elf pushes two drinks towards her and she picks them up. She nods goodbye at Draco and makes her way back to Greg.
She finds him where she left him, leaning back, his arms spread wide over the back of the couch cushions. His face lights up as she approaches though she's not sure if he's excited to see her or the alcohol. He sits forward and moves his arms, freeing up space for her to sit.
"I think I've figured it out," Greg says.
"Figured what out?"
"Why you're working with us." Pansy sighs.
"Have you?"
"You're protecting Draco." Pansy keeps her face impassive but her pulse speeds up. She wonders if she can get to her wand out to confund him before he realizes what she is doing. But before she can make a decision, he continues speaking. "You know, because he's dating Harry, so he's more high profile." It's close to the truth, still but different enough that it shouldn't jeopardize Draco's identity as the Reliquary.
"I can neither confirm nor deny this," Pansy says. Greg pumps his fist in success.
"I knew it." She smirks at him. "Damn, I guess Harry's still important then." Pansy says nothing and instead takes a sip of her drink. She notes, with curiosity, that both Draco and Greg call Potter by his first name. She supposes that it has been a few months and Potter does spend a lot of time with them, but she finds it curious nonetheless.
"So what's it like?" Pansy asks, changing the subject. "Living with the pair of them?" Greg shrugs.
"Fine. They are fairly inseparable, so I see a lot of Harry, but other than that, things seem to be mostly the same." Pansy nods. This is good. So long as Greg doesn't think Draco's life has changed in any way other than dating Potter, his cover is fine. "It does get a bit lonely sometimes, being their third wheel." Pansy is not sure if he is trying to insinuate anything, so she stays quiet. If he wants to say something, he can say it on his own. She is not going to lead him on. "You should join us more often."
"Should I?"
"Though, I suppose you're probably busy most nights," he says. "Major." She claps a hand over his mouth.
"Careful," she hisses. "You'll blow my cover." He reaches up and pulls her hand away, but does not let go of it. She finds that she's not sure if she wants to take it away.
On the one hand, she should, because nothing good will likely come from this. But on the other? It's been so long since she's been with anyone. And Greg is nice, and he's not too hard on the eyes.
For the first time since joining the Flourish and Blott's team, she looks at him properly. He has aged into his looks, in a way that he never could have in school. His face has lost any of the baby fat he had and his cheekbones are now pronounced. He had always been larger than Draco, but now it is because he has muscles and not just bulk.
"Pansy! Greg!" An excited Luca and Joe walk into the room and make a beeline for them. Pansy groans and the smile slowly fades from Greg's face.
"Lads," he says. He drops Pansy's hand and Pansy finds herself more annoyed at the pair than she ever has been before. Of course, they're harmless, but right now, they are the enemy. So she quietly pulls out her wand and sends a silent trip jinx their way. In the ensuing scuffle, she grabs Greg's hand and pulls him first into a standing position and then down the corridor and into another room.
This room is wreathed in fog and fake ghouls float around at head height, occasionally bumping into the walls and each other. Pansy and Greg weave their way through the ghouls to an empty corner and then, once they are sure they haven't been followed, they burst into laughter. The fog dampens the noise.
"Did you trip them?" Greg asks through his guffaws.
"Of course," she says. She is laughing so hard that she has to lean on his chest to support herself. Or, at least, that's what she wants him to think.
He certainly notices her, because he wraps a cautious arm around her back and does not move it when she finally stops laughing and straightens up. She looks up at him. She is shorter than he is again, as she is no longer standing on his skates, and she has to crane her neck to see his face.
"Hi," he says softly. He puts his other arm around her waist.
"Are you hitting on me?" she asks again.
"I don't know. Do you want me to?" She makes a split second decision.
"Yes."
