When someone knocks on the door, Harry knows who it is, even before he has to ask. Then he looks at the calendar on his table and thinks that he has slipped as much as possible and that his friend has no more patience, so he mentally counts to ten and opens the door.

Hermione awaits him with a committed smile, knowing that her friend is not given to this kind of thing, but that she has no choice, as the personal assistant to the Minister of Magic, but to force him to do it.

"Well," he sighs resignedly, "what do I have to do today? a rehearsal?"

"You have to take photos in your dress uniform before the ceremony. It's not that bad", she adds when she sees Harry's face, "you put it on, you pose a bit for the press and that's it. I don't even know if they are going to ask you questions."

"I haven't even tried it on yet. I don't even know if it's going to fit me" he excuses himself.

Damn it, if he would know there was going to be such a fuss about succeeding Robards as Auror Chief, he would have turned it down. And he still has a formal dinner and a dance to go where he will take office.

Harry goes to the place where he will attend to the journalists and enters through the back door to an attached room where he will prepare himself and also knows unequivocally that the head of the Press Office of the Ministry is waiting for him.

"Malfoy," he greets him with a nod.

"You're late," he greets him back, "you have your uniform behind the screen," he tells Harry without even lifting his eyes from the clipboard in his hands.

It is a large room, like an office, with the walls covered in dark wood. There's a huge table desk where Malfoy has a couple bands on and Harry hopes he doesn't have to wear any of them.

When he comes behind the screen and sees the uniform, he is impressed. He has seen Robards wear it once or twice, but this one is different, they've added a few things to it and a couple of medals, which he has no idea what they are for, hang from the chest. The jacket is deep navy blue, the epaulettes are gold and red as well as the sleeves. The stiff collar without lapels also has red edges. The jacket, in front, reaches just to the waist although it falls much more in the back. And the trousers, white, have the feeling that they are going to be a little tight. And finally, the classic black boots up to the knees. He will feel disguised.

"Hey," he calls to Malfoy, who pokes his head, "what are these for?" He asks, pointing to a couple of badges he doesn't recognize.

"One is your order of Merlin first class," he clarifies as if he were an expert on the subject, "and this one here is a distinction for special services to the wizarding world, for defeating Voldemort. The others" he says pointing to the others that Harry has more idea of, since he has gained them during his years in the corps "are the distinctions for climbing in the corps of aurors and this one here" now he points to a golden, round topped in peaks, "is the one for being Chief of Aurors"

"Maybe you should be the one wearing this uniform, I'm going to feel so out of place…" he says more to himself, "at least you would know what you're wearing."

"Come on, Potter, don't be so dramatic, you've been in the corps for many years. "It is only a procedure. Hurry up, the reporters will be here in half an hour."

Harry makes every effort to get dressed. Pants, belt and boots have not been a problem for him. But the top is another matter. What goes first? the t-shirt, the band, and then the shirt. Not the shirt first and then that blue band. All right. Nope. He can't take off his shirt now. He may need some help.

Draco, feeling his patience is about to run out, approaches the screen again upon hearing the distress call from the next Auror Chief. "And is the safety of the wizarding world supposed to be in his hands?"

When he arrives, he finds a little show that he does not know if he wants to witness. Harry's hands are up stuck in his shirt, which he has tried to remove without undoing the buttons. At least he's wearing pants, he thinks, if it weren't for the fact that they're too tight. Very tight. The belt is undone, the shirt is all up, so he is showing his tum.

"Merín, give me patience, but above all, give me strength." He thinks while sneaking in with the auror behind the screen.

"For Circe, Potter. Don't you know how to dress yourself?

"Can you unbutton my shirt please?"

Draco obeys and releases Potter's head little by little. The bastard smells really good, he has to admit it.

"What should I put on now?" He asks once he has free movement again.

"That kind of corset goes first, under everything else, then the T-shirt, the shirt, the jacket, and then the ribbon and the band."

Harry takes off his shirt and Draco holds his breath. He doesn't know why, but he thinks it's a good idea to stay there helping the auror. He doesn't want to run out of time.

The ex-Gryffindor is nervous, he takes that kind of leather armor that will make his jacket have a body and puts it on.

"Wait," Draco interrupts, "you're putting it backwards. Take it off" he says, pushing his hand and putting it on himself "let me do it."

When Harry feels the hands of his old schoolmate touching his abdomen, he cannot prevent certain memories from coming to him.

"Draco," he calls out in a somewhat hoarse voice, he puts his hand on his, preventing him from finishing placing whatever he's putting on him.

"I'm sorry," he says, pulling his hand out. Although he doesn't feel sorry at all. And also, loving that Harry holds his hand next to his.

"Come here, damn it," the auror whispers.

He puts a hand behind his neck and pulls Draco to him. How long has it been? six months? seven? But it seems that Draco feels just like him, thanks to Merlin, and does not put up any resistance, nor reply. He opens his mouth to meet Harry's and they devour each without haste.

"Harry," Draco stops suddenly, "remember, we decided it was better…"

"Draco, I don't care what we decide. Look how hard I get just having you around."

The former slytherin looks at the auror's crotch and closes his eyes when he sees that the pants are tightened even more than before. He lets go of all the air inside him, not that he's much better, he tells himself. But what do you want him to do? It has been too long since he has been alone with him in the same room; with him only wearing those stupid tight pants and those boots… he has dreamed of those boots, he cannot deny it, and also, while he was dreaming, he was just as hard as he is now.

For two seconds, he thinks about all the possibilities. And for him, what seems most reasonable right now is to continue. While he is thinking about it, the auror watches him (with his lips still a little swollen from the kiss they shared a minute ago) letting him know that it has to be himn the one who has to make the decision, because it seems that the next Chief of Aurors has a very clear idea of what he wants. And he does too; he doesn't want to accept it, but he has to.

He pushes Harry until his bare back hits the wall and kisses him, but for only a few minutes, because then his lips travel to his neck, and then to his chest and down his stomach.

"Draco, you're killing me," he whispers very softly, stroking his blond hair.

All he needs to do is unzip the trousers, to pull them down together with his underwear. Harry's erection gives a little jump when Draco releases it and he licks it with his lips. He should feel dirty, but he just feels his cheeks burning and his own trousers about to explode. When Draco takes it in his mouth, all he can hear is a moan from Harry that only causes him to go even deeper. He can feel the Auror's legs unsteady on both sides and his hand ruffling his hair, giving little tugs and his mouth letting out groans and unintelligible words. When he notices that the auror cannot take any more and is about to come, he stops.

Draco looks around and notices the table desk, he grabs Harry's hand and leads him to the table, pointing at it and licking his lip. As if time had not passed since the last time they were in the same situation, Harry understands instantly and with a wave of his hand he makes everything on the table disappear.

"Lie down," Draco demands with a push.

Harry obeys without question, but instead of just lying, he first sits on the table to help Draco take off his clothes: he opens his robe that he chucks aside and then he pulls the shirt over his head. Draco leans in and kisses him passionately, with both hands on his cheeks. Harry hugs him with his legs and draws him even closer to him.

Draco, while struggling with his own trousers trying to get them down, pushes the auror with one hand until he is lying on the table. And, when he has finally released his own erection, leans forward until Harry's face is a few inches away from his.

"When it was last time that you...?" Draco asks, wanting to know how careful he has to be.

"Since our last time," he replies so close to his lips that he can feel his breath on his.

Draco knows he is tremendously selfish, but he can't help it, that made him horny. So, he was the last one to have Harry?

With a flick of the wand, that the auror feels in himself, Draco has him ready and where he wanted him. He aligns himself with his body, and little by little, and trying to not to come as soon as he feels he is going in, he begins to go inside him very slowly. He hasn't been with anyone else either. He does not know why: it could be because he did not need it or because he knew that no one was going to measure up and the comparisons are hateful. So he tries not to do it too fast so he does not look inexperienced. But his body does not respond to his wishes, it seems to move by itself and as soon as Harry has felt confident and comfortable, he begins to take deep and fast pushes. The auror's arms draw him back to him and they kiss between moans and the sound of their bodies colliding.

Draco can not remember being so excited in his life. He does not remember that Harry could turn him on that much, or that he could ever feel so much pleasure. The Auror's legs are tightened on his hips as if they were squeezing him, he feels Harry's boner between their bellies as if it were pulsating. They are very close, both of them. He could feel it. And he should stop moving at that speed, but he can't. On the contrary, he had the necessity of moving faste and faster.

He doesn't know who finishes first, but there isn't much difference.

Draco gasps, still lying on top of Harry who just lays on the table with his eyes closed and his breathing somewhat heavy.

He gets up and holds out a hand to the former Gryffindor, who uses it to push himself up and sit on the table.

Although it's been a while since they last had that kind of intimacy, they don't feel awkward as cleaning spells are cast and everything is returned to normal.

Draco, this time trying to take it seriously, finishes helping Harry dress appropriately to greet the press.

While journalists ask and take photos of the next Chief Auror, the former Slytherin wonders what will happen now between them.

And when the press conference is over and they are alone again, they both look at each other without quite knowing what to say.

Their story began one night after they both had to travel to Amsterdam where Harry had to go to take care of a Death Eater; They kept doing it for a while, but both decided to leave it there, even though the sex was great, because they thought it wasn't worth it for their friends and family to find out and try to intrude on what they had. They knew that everyone they knew was going to have something to say, and just thinking about it gave them a headache. Now, both are asking themselves if they made the right decision. But again, the doubts of yesteryear invade them.

What if it doesn't work out? they will have made an effort for nothing. It's crazy. Nobody will understand. They are going to have to give a lot of explanations…

But even when they have been just together, both of their fingers tingle with the need to touch the other.

Draco picks up the papers he used during the press conference and heads for the door. When he tries to open it he realizes that it is blocked, when he turns he sees that Harry's hand is raised.

"Draco, I want us to try." he says almost in a whisper.

The former slytherin walks over to where Harry is and leans on a table in front of him. He looks at him for a few seconds because he has no idea what to say to him.

"And what do you think is going to happen? Are we just going to walk in front of everyone holding hands like if it were the most normal thing to do?"

Harry thinks about it. And it doesn't seem like a bad idea.

"Come with me to the investiture ceremony. As my guest. By my side."

Draco laughs because he thinks the auror sounds ridiculous. At least, until Harry stands in front of him, so close that their foreheads almost touch.

"It's crazy and you know it." he replies, trying to bring him back to sanity.

"I know it is, but so what? I'm going to be much more uncomfortable wearing this uniform and hearing people talk about me as if I had died and they were paying tribute to me. And right now, the only thing that would give me any comfort would be knowing that you will be there with me."

Draco raises an eyebrow and looks into his eyes intently, as if he is trying to figure out if he's joking or being honest.

"What if…?"

Harry covers Draco's mouth with the palm of his hand.

"Those what if? have made me miserable the last few months. See this thing here?" He says, pointing to one of the small medals, "I was given it for defeating Voldemort. It's not going to be worse than that, I assure you," he says with a sly smile.

And who is Draco to debate that?

He takes in a lot of air and expels it with force because he knows that getting out of that room with Harry is going to mean a lot, but he knows that it will also bring him many other good things. And feeling the auror's hand grasp his, gives him all the confidence and strength he will need. Not only for that moment, but for many others.