Chapter 2: Tom vs. Allergies

"So let me get this right," Lucius said, rubbing a hand over the left side of his face. "You don't want to get rid of your new manager anymore. You want to fuck him."

"That's a crude way of putting it," Tom said, affronted. "I don't just want to fuck him."

"But what about the promotion you wanted?" Lucius asked, desperation leaking into his tone. "Doesn't that matter anymore? You put all that effort into screwing Quirrell over. Which, I may add, was not a course of action I approved of to begin with."

Tom shrugged. "There are other ways of securing a promotion that won't involve getting Harry fired."

Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose. "There's a reason why sleeping your way to the top actually works, Tom. And it's not because all those people end up in happy, healthy relationships."

"Relationship is debatable," Tom said, crossing his arms. "I'll have to see how I feel after I get to know him better."

"Just so we're clear," Lucius said, "there is no way for me to change your mind at this point?"

"There is not."

Lucius sighed. "Fine. What did you want my help with, then?"

Tom leant forward, oozing sincerity. "Well, you see, I wanted to know where you bought those flowers for Narcissa's birthday last month. The arrangement was tasteful."

"Tom," said Lucius. "You're allergic to flowers."

"And?"

Lucius held Tom's gaze, then said, "Forget I said anything. Yes, I will forward you the information."

Excellent. Now the only question left was whether red roses would be too overt or not.

Tom went in early the next morning, gloves on his hands and clothespin pinching his nose shut. He'd taken antihistamines this morning in preparation, but it never hurt to take extra precautions.

After picking the lock to Harry's office, Tom set his bouquet of flowers carefully onto Harry's desk. The desk was tidy, which was good, and there was only one framed photograph—Harry and his parents at some tropical locale.

Delivery was complete, Tom shed all the evidence into a garbage bag, checked his suit for pollen, and disposed of the waste into the trash bin in the lobby downstairs.

There was no card attached to his gift, which was deliberate. Harry liked to come in early, like some of the other workers did, which meant that the pool of potential gifters would be smaller, but it also meant that Tom's presence would be duly noted.

Not that Tom was worried about his gift being attributed to anyone else. He was Harry's assistant, meaning his desk was the closest to Harry's office and it had the best view of the door. Tom would decide how to proceed based on Harry's reaction to the gift.

If Harry emerged looking pleased, then Tom would give the waters a test. If not, then he would simply have to try something else. Whatever it was that Harry liked, Tom would figure it out and deliver it into Harry's unwitting hands.

This was a foolproof plan with little to no risk involved, which meant it was perfect.

Harry did not leave his office all day.

The staff were starting to talk. Tom, conversely, was starting to worry.

What possible reason could there be for this kind of behaviour? This was not one of the responses that Tom had expected and prepared for. What was he supposed to do with no reaction, no information?

As the end of the work day drew near, people began to get restless. When Quirrell had been manager, people had tended to stay until he left. But it was different with Harry. Harry encouraged people to leave on time, and he usually did so as well.

Except, of course, no one had seen Harry all day.

Tom had texted Lucius with an update on the situation, asking for a second opinion.

Maybe he's allergic and you killed him ?

Utterly unhelpful. Tom turned his ringer off and set his phone inside his desk so he wouldn't be tempted to look at it.

Minutes passed. People began to pack their things. Tom had wrapped up everything ages ago and was trying not to stare at the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco sidle over to the elevators and vanish.

Five minutes after that, Harry's office door cracked open a few centimeters.

"Um. I've just been rather busy today. But you all can go!"

Then the door shut itself again.

"You heard the boss man," said male-Weasley. "Time for us to go home, Hermione."

"Yes, yes," said Granger. "Just a few more minutes. Do you think I could go talk to Harry before we leave?"

Male-Weasley groaned. "He said he's busy, Hermione. It can wait till tomorrow, yeah?"

Once they were gone, Tom was the only left in the area. He tidied up his desk, retrieved his phone, and shut his briefcase. He didn't want to leave just yet, but it would be strange if Harry emerged to see Tom seated by himself.

With a sigh, Tom cast one final glance at the door. Then he stood and pulled his jacket on, buttoning the front of it.

It was then that Harry stumbled out of his office, his arms full of flowers.

"Oh, Tom! Hi. I didn't realize, um, that anyone was still here." Harry's face was mostly obscured by the arrangement of red roses and white lilies he was carrying, but Tom could discern the hint of a dark flush that tinted Harry's cheeks and neck.

"No worries," Tom said. "Everyone else has left for the day. It's just you and I." He allowed his eyes to pause upon the flowers and waited for Harry to make note of the attention.

"Ah, right." Harry adjusted his hold, shifting the bouquet to his right arm. "I found these in my office this morning. I'm not sure who sent them, actually."

"They're very beautiful," Tom said, taking a few steps in Harry's direction.

"They are," Harry admitted. "Um. A bit awkward, though. I guess they're from someone in the office? Which is not really appropriate? Because I'm the manager. So I didn't want to show them around. But you're right, they're nice, and I'd feel bad that someone went to all this trouble only to think I didn't appreciate it."

Tom opened his mouth to say something.

And then he sneezed. And sneezed. And sneezed again.

"Oh, shit!" Harry whirled away, shielding the bouquet with his body. "Are you allergic, Tom? I am so sorry. I'm just keeping you here, aren't I? Let me just get out of your way, here—no, it's okay, really. I'll see you tomorrow!"

Harry sprinted headlong for the lifts even as Tom tried to protest through his sneezing.

Bloody fucking hell.

The next day, nothing happened. Harry greeted everyone like a friend, made his typical round amongst all the departments, and spent his lunch hour with his door wide open in case 'anyone wanted to talk to him'.

Tom brooded. And when he wasn't brooding, he pondered on what to do.

Harry was flattered by the flowers, but he did not seem interested in seeking out his secret admirer. He was concerned about the appropriateness, of all things.

Perhaps more risk would be required. Besides, even if Harry was not currently interested in a relationship, any rejection would be polite and delivered with care.

The worst case scenario meant that Tom would need to apply more effort in convincing Harry to act on their mutual attraction. That was fine; Harry was a worthwhile challenge.

The following morning, Harry called for a meeting.

"What do you think this is about?" asked girl-Weasley in a whisper.

"I haven't the faintest," Tom drawled. "Why don't you attend the meeting and find out?"

That got him a glare in response. Tom knew she'd rather be in the cubicle next to Granger than him, but he didn't particularly care to put up with the insanity of both of them together. The amount of distraction he suffered while he was stuck in between them was already bad enough.

"Hi, everyone!" Harry, his voice ever cheerful, was at the front of the room, He was chewing on his lower lip, his eyes darting around the seated employees.

A few workers chorused a 'hello' back, and Harry looked suitably reassured by this.

"So I wanted to talk to you all today about, um. Company policy."

Oh, come on. If there had been an available flat surface to do so, Tom would have smacked his forehead on it.

"Relationships in the workplace, as of right now, are not permitted by HR. As decided by head office. That includes any form of relationship, ah, physical or not." Harry ducked his head a bit, but then he straightened and added, "I know I could have probably sent a memo around for this. I just wanted to make sure that things are clear to everybody. Okay? Good. So that's all I really wanted to say. Thank you to everyone for coming."

Then Harry cleared his throat and added, "Theodore, if you could stay behind, I had some questions for you…"

People began to file out of the room.

"Wonder what brought that on," Draco muttered.

"I bet someone tried to hit on him," Pansy said knowingly. Then she turned to look at Tom. "You're outside his office. Did you see anything?"

"No," Tom said.

"Hmph." Pansy frowned. "Maybe it was Weaselette. I saw her eyeing him the other day."

Tom stopped listening, because listening was only going to irritate him.

Just behind them, Harry was talking to Theodore. And Harry was laughing. Laughing at something Theodore had said? What about the IT department could possibly be that funny?

Tom had already sent Harry flowers. He had been first, and everyone else would simply have to find some other man to chase. Tom was going to win Harry over, company policy be damned.