Chapter 2

'So I thought, we'd start a new feature with my column that will help people identify the sick plants they have and also give info about how to tend to them. You see most of them can be saved at home itself. I was thinking of calling it the Been series,' Neville said, flicking his wand at the parchment he was displaying his presentation on. The parchment dutifully rolled up and dropped onto the table before Neville. Rolf lifted his hand up for a high-five as Neville beamed and clapped his hand.

'It's amazing,' Hermione said, her eyes lighting up with excitement, 'It's a sure fire way of increasing our sales since we'll be asking our readers to send in their doubts and inquiries.' She looked like she was still working it out in her brain. 'Great idea, Neville!' Hermione's face looked as if someone gifted her a library. She turned to Draco and Harry and raised her eyebrows.

The two of them exchanged nervous looks. They were both perfectly aware that last night's dinner wasn't going to spare them from that day's wrath.

Draco cleared his throat and timidly glanced up at Hermione. 'Well, I've thought about it,' he began.

Harry looked quizzically at him wondering if Draco was going to confess or if he was trying to make up a story on the spot.

'And?' Hermione started frowning, her nose doing that sniffing motion she had a habit of doing every time she suspected something.

'And..' Draco trailed off uncertainly.

'And we've decided to write a story together,' Harry blurted out. Draco whipped his head at him, eyes bulging out, eyebrows disappearing into his hair and mouth pinched tight. Harry was positive Draco had no idea how closely he was resembling an owl.

Craig laughed for five minutes straight, shaking so much that he fell out of his chair by the end of it. Harry found Neville hiding a smile and Rolf slightly shaking his head as if in fond exasperation. Hermione, though, was nonplussed.

'That's a good idea how?' she asked, tilting her head to the side. 'We run an educational magazine. We are not going to publish childish stories.'

Harry had to snap his jaw shut at that admonishment.

'Or did you just sprout whatever popped into your head when I asked you, because that in no way seems like a properly thought out plan.'

Damn! One bad thing about working with a lifelong friend was that they could easily see through all the lies. And Hermione's abhorrence of tardiness was only next to her hate of Umbridge.

'No, Draco actually writes well and Harry's creativity could be put to good use this way,' Craig said, sobering and picking himself up from the floor.

Draco's head whipped now at Craig. Harry also narrowed his eyes, wondering what could be going on in the Loudspeaker's head.

'What do you mean?' Hermione looked like she had more faith in him and Harry started internally fuming at her.

Craig then proceeded to explain how he had once caught Draco writing something down in a red book of his. 'He has a real grip on words. The light from the lanterns was reflecting in the emerald orbs and making them shine brighter than all the stars in the universe combined. In his black robes, he looked as ethereal and rare as a comet.'

'How dare you read my diary, McNeil!' Draco shouted, getting up and banging his hand on the table, shaking with unexplainable fury. Harry was surprised. He had rarely seen Draco so worked up and never over something so frivolous.

Craig merely raised his brow, rested his hand on his chin and smiled at Draco knowingly. Everyone waited with bated breath, totally aware of the implications of Draco's rage. But to the surprise of every person in the room, Draco blinked twice at Craig and then went and sat back down in his chair, turning his head to look out the window. Harry noticed that his fists were clenched but other than that he looked as though he was internally glaring at himself for some mistake he unintentionally committed.

Craig snorted openly at Draco at that.

'See it this way, Hermione,' Rolf said quietly. 'People know Draco and Harry work here, but they don't know what they do since we all publish anonymously.'

'And they're both famous,' Neville said, catching on. 'If word got round that they are writing a story together, people would buy our magazine just to read that alone.'

'Bloody brilliant!' Pansy said, smirking contentedly.

'But we don't..' Hermione began.

'Let them at least show you the preliminary output. I'm sure they can do it. I trust them,' Rolf said, smiling in Harry and Draco's direction.

'Well, I don't have all day,' Hermione huffed, 'and that sentence seems sufficiently promising. For now, you both can keep doing what you were doing earlier. If your story comes out well enough, I'll see if we can publish it.'

She nodded dismissively at them and they quickly scrambled out of her office. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he plopped down at his desk. He had somehow cleared hurdle number 1 and sent an origami bird with a you're the best, Rolfie flying in his direction. Now he only had to bother about writing that story. Right?

Apparently not, he decided, rubbing his arm after Draco sent a stinging hex his way.

'Seriously, Potter? A story?' he glowered at him. 'Well,' he drawled, 'You can write it down yourself. Good luck!'

'You are helping me, Draco,' Harry declared.

'I'm not.'

'Why?'

'You are the reason I'm in this mess, Potter! My entire..' Draco stopped, blushing to his ears and immediately hid his face in his hands.

Harry looked at him, puzzled. 'But that was wonderful phrasing, Draco. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Unless..' It struck him then. Oh God!

'Draco,' he said slowly, 'were you, perhaps, describing your crush?' For some unfathomable reason, the idea that Draco had a strong enough crush that made him wait for the past ten years didn't sit well in Harry's stomach. He felt sudden and irrepressible rage at the guy who had Draco's attention and affection. Because nobody could stand next to Draco if it wasn't Harry himself. Wait. No, that sounded weird. Why should he be bothered if Draco liked someone or not. He should be happy for his friend. Though he was pathetically single, Draco at least had someone in mind. He shouldn't!

Harry shook his head free of the intruding thoughts and looked at Draco. He was now turned completely away from Harry. Oh please! Did Draco have a problem accepting the man? Should Harry have to help Draco with his love? Because it couldn't be anything else if Draco I'm-God's-gift-to-mankind Malfoy didn't date anyone for a decade. A decade!

Bile rose up to his throat at that thought. His eyes landed on Draco's still turned back and he sighed. Draco was his friend. He was going to help him however he could. His peripheral vision signalled that Craig the Loudspeaker was making a lousy attempt at being busy. He knew just what to do. One shot, two birds.

'Draco darling, why have you never mentioned your secret crush?' Harry asked, leaning back in his chair.

He heard Craig choke on his drink and spit it out as Draco swivelled around, mouth open and face aghast.

Harry winked at Draco and continued, 'If I had known about it before, I probably could have been of some help, my dear.'

Draco's jaw was still on the floor. It looked as if he hadn't understood what Harry was playing at. His next words confirmed it.

'You don't know what you're talking about, Potter.'

Harry didn't notice Draco's usage of his last name. He was too busy staring meaningfully at Draco. At last, however, Draco winked back.

'I'm sure I do, love,' Harry said, a conspiratorial smile spreading across his face.

Craig coughed loudly and excused himself even as Harry and Draco started sniggering. They had found, quite late into their relationship with their peculiar colleague, that he was somehow always discomfited when they used terms of endearment. It was something that Harry had actually caught on from Pansy when they had been living together. To her, everyone was always a darling, or a love or a honey. Harry couldn't understand till date how she could make a word so sugary sweet sound so scathing.

'Let's do it then, sweetheart,' Harry said, waggling his brows and snickering to himself.

'You know I hate it when you call me that, Potter,' Draco said, rolling over to his desk.

'So we are doing it together then?' Harry didn't mean for it to come out so hopeful. Was he starting to behave as though Draco would leave him for his special someone and therefore he should spend as much time with Draco as possible? Oh God! He was going to become clingy at this rate. Harry sighed again and found Draco staring at him with an intense look on his face. He suspected his own expression, about which he had no clue, was the reason for the soft gaze Draco was directing at him.

'Yes, together,' Draco said, his tone bordering on a whisper. Harry released a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.

'Good.' Harry smiled. 'Shall we start?'

'...so we've decided on a love story,' Harry said, immediately raising a hand at the disapproval swirling in Hermione's brown eyes. 'Let me finish. We are going to include societal issues, class differences, physical disabilities, homophobia and mental illnesses. It's going to be great, trust us. We can't tell you more about the story without revealing it completely. Besides, we're already done with a few chapters.' He smirked at Draco who looked quite proud of himself.

Hermione just stared at them for a few moments before finally sighing and folding her hands behind her head. 'How long did it take for you to come up with the plot?'

'My money's on half an hour,' Ron said from his place on Hermione's lounge sofa.

'What is he doing here?' Draco glared. Harry knew he hated being caught and more so by Ron.

'Lending me some moral support as I listen to your story,' Hermione rolled her eyes.

'But we are not narrating anything!' Harry said firmly.

'Even so, my deepest condolences, 'Mione,' Ron said, coming over and placing in front of her, a bundle of white tissue papers that were haphazardly rolled up and tied with a conjured string to resemble a bouquet.

Draco scowled and folded his arms across his chest. Hermione narrowed her eyes as if to ask, 'What's that?'

'I couldn't bring flowers, so I made you this bouquet out of tissues. Figured they'd be more useful,' he smiled broadly, all thirty two teeth on display.

'Orchideous,' Harry whispered and a swish of his hand produced a bunch of red and yellow orchids. 'Here,' he said, handing Ron the flowers, 'My condolences at the poor response for your joke.'

A laugh erupted out of Draco at that and Harry smiled at him, fond and all soft around the edges. Hermione was hiding behind her interlocked fingers, not wanting to laugh and offend Ron. The sarcasm was for naught though. Ron simply replaced the wilting roses on Hermione's table with the orchids and filled the vase with an Aguamenti!

'So it was half an hour then,' Hermione said, bringing everyone back to the topic at hand. 'And Harry how long after that did you come up with the details you mentioned, class differences and stuff?'

'Ten minutes,' Draco answered for him. Harry rolled his eyes. Sometimes, it was as if Draco was a child. If his secret was out, Harry's should be too.

'Look,' Hermione continued, 'I'm only asking because I want you to realise how invested this story requires you to be. It's no mean task, guys. You don't get it so I'll spell it for you both. This state of excitement, enthusiasm and eagerness is in other words a high obtained out of the mere thought of creating something unique and sensational. It happens with everyone. Plotting it is one thing and implementing it is another. You can get carried away. All your efforts will have been for nothing then.'

'Have faith in us, 'Mione,' Harry said holding her hands in his. 'Readers are going to be hooked, just because of our style of presentation, if nothing else. Our lead pair is Henry Palmer and Diego Malcolm. It's going to be an alternating first person narration and we took up a character each. See? It's already so different from others!' He looked at Draco for some support which he duly provided with a small tilt of his head.

Ron and Hermione stared at them both as if he and Draco had sprouted wings and horns. He exchanged a confused look with Draco at the expression forming on the other couple's faces.

'Henry Palmer and Diego Malcolm?' Ron realised he had a voice first.

Draco and Harry gave a vigorous nod. 'And it's an enemies to friends to lovers genre. You see, Malcolm is a snotty rich bastard who is initially going to appear totally haughty and hateful in the beginning,' Harry explained.

'We agreed not to give any details!' Draco hissed.

Harry threw him an unamused look. 'He hates Palmer but then they become friends after being paired for a school project and after Palmer saves Malcolm from a rogue. This all happens after a deadly war though. See we are including that too!'

'Sch-' Ron spluttered, 'School project?' He sounded incredulous. 'Saving? War?'

Hermione rubbed a soothing hand up and down her husband's arm as she said, 'Don't mind Ron. I want to know when you can submit your rough draft.'

Within a few minutes they were exiting her office. As Harry closed the door, he saw Ron throw his hands up into the air. 'Palmer and Malcolm!'

'Ron!' Hermione scolded him.

'But-'

'This is the best for them. It's the only way.'

Harry and Draco were sitting back to back on the sofa in their drawing room, arms folded across their chests and wearing identical expressions of discontent, both of them still reeling from the heavy argument they had just had. Harry was completely irritated by Draco's disregard for his proposals and suggestions. He was the one who had got them out of Hermione's wrath and his reward was this? Draco was absolutely thankless.

'I'm never going to write with you again, Malfoy,' Harry spat, hitting Draco with his own head and then cursing when pain shot through his skull.

'I'm revoking our partnership regarding this instance as well. Working with you is impossible, Potter!' Draco fumed, pushing Harry back with his shoulder.

'Yes, good for you. I'm going to use my contingency plan. You go have a happy adventure racking your brain for other ideas regarding the improvement of your work,' Harry said, jutting an elbow into Malfoy's back.

'You don't have a contingency plan, Potter. You are not one who thinks of such things. Your first impulse is to jump into action,' Draco drawled. 'Besides, that was just a pathetic attempt at a threat by a desperate man who clearly has no other options.'

Harry brightened up at Draco's slip up. He turned in his seat so abruptly that without his back against Draco's, the Slytherin lost his balance and fell straight into his lap. Draco closed his eyes as he gathered his bearings and then opened them when he realised what had just happened. Meanwhile, Harry didn't dare to move an inch. The sight of Draco's blond hair against the background of his dark trousers was breathtaking. The amount of casual or comforting physical contact they had in the past twelve years had been carefully limited to a minimum. On Draco's part that is. Even when Narcissa Malfoy had died, four years after the war, Draco had adamantly refused and backed away from hugs of well meaning friends. Harry had been fortunate enough to trap Draco in a calming embrace on the day of the funeral when Draco, after coming home, had trembled like a leaf, tears pouring out of his eyes, gut wrenching sobs twisting through his body. Harry, unable to take in the sight of helpless Draco, had immediately gone to him and hugged him. For an hour. When the hour was up, Draco, as if an alarm sounded somewhere in his head, had got up and walked away, never saying anything to Harry about that moment of weakness ever again. It had been eight years since Harry and Draco exchanged anything other than a handshake and therefore, this sudden proximity was a welcome development to Harry.

'Since it's so abundantly clear that I don't have other options, will you help me?' Harry asked, running tentative fingers through Draco's golden locks, taking his continued presence in his lap as an encouragement. Realising his error, however, he added, 'I meant that maybe my suggestions so far haven't been that good, but it isn't as if all of yours have been spectacular either. That scene you wanted about Malcolm tricking Palmer into a wrestling match at night was plain stupid.'

Harry's eyes were roaming all over Draco's hair, following the motions of his nimble fingers. He never imagined Draco's hair to be as soft as it looked. It had been just a few minutes but Harry was already getting addicted to it. He didn't want to stop touching the silky blond hair.

'Fine,' Draco conceded, closing his eyes at the soothing massage to his scalp Harry's fingers were very kindly providing. 'You have absolutely zero sense of self, Potter. You came crawling right back to the one who rejected you the moment you saw an opportunity. No Slytherin would ever do that.'

'And it's precisely because of that misguided sense of self that Slytherins end up having to do everything by themselves, gaining nothing but chronic fatigue in the process,' Harry said, sticking his tongue out at Draco.

'It's because we value self preservation that we become self sufficient, Potter,' Draco said, sending Harry a one eyed glare that, in Harry's humble opinion, effectively ruined his intent with how funny it made Draco's face appear.

'If I'm on the case,' Draco carried on, unbothered, 'I want to keep the outline I laid out. Palmer is an orphan, Malcolm is rich, they meet once while shopping for uniforms and next at a train station. They spend a total of four years deliberately getting in each other's way, annoying the hell out of each other and their friends. In their fifth year, Malcolm hunts Palmer down and exposes his secret club. Are we clear till there?'

Harry stared at Draco slack jawed and dumbstruck. 'That's like half the story, Draco!'

'Oh and there's going to be a war too. And Malcolm is going to be on the wrong side,' Draco said, as if he hadn't heard Harry.

'Draco!' Harry exclaimed, 'Malcolm is not you! He's different, he's a muggle. Muggles don't have wars often. There have only been two in history till now and everyone knows if the next one happens, earth is going to explode from all the nuclear weapons!'

'Potter, in your rambling you are forgetting I don't understand all that terminology. Fine, but at least some kind of a battle. And no, I know I'm not Malcolm but war made me understand and appreciate things in life I probably wouldn't have otherwise. I want to tell it to others through my character.'

Harry huffed. 'Alright,' he said at long last.

'Scratch behind my ear, Potter, ah, right there, yes.' There was a long sigh that sounded as if it emerged from the very depths of Draco's soul as Harry rubbed his fingers behind his ear. His eyes were hooked onto Draco's face. The more he looked at Draco blissfully relaxing, the more he liked it.

'Think about the dialogues instead of staring at my gorgeous face. We can't go slack on them just because you can't resist me,' Draco reminded him a minute later.

'Of course! Let's not have a moment of peace until Hermione accepts it. I'm all up for it,' Harry retorted, rolling his eyes and pulling Draco's hair a bit.

'Good,' Draco replied calmly.

'Prat,' Harry muttered, fondness creeping into his voice.

The room was quiet save for the crackling of the fire and the creaking of the fan overhead. They had had a plentiful dinner that currently rested snug in their bellies. Exhaustion was finally settling in. Harry was lost in his thoughts and didn't know when his eyes drooped shut. When he came to, he saw that it was half past twelve. Dawn was a long way to go and Harry was feeling too comfortable to climb out of the sofa. Which reminded him-Draco! He looked down to a sight that instantly got implanted in his mind. Draco was sleeping peacefully, his exquisitely golden lashes resting against his cheeks, hair completely mussed and a soft snore emanating from his soul.

Harry reached with one hand and traced over Draco's face. He was so beautiful! Harry had to shake himself out of the stupor. Something had to be wrong for Harry's brain to be having such notions even in its drowsy state. Draco was in love and he was Draco's friend. All the other confusing feelings were just because of the story. He was never going to write another one with Draco.

All these thoughts, however, had still been insufficient to make Harry reconsider his decision to expand the couch and summon their blankets and pillows. Harry woke at five in the morning to Draco's arms encircling his frame, his breath brushing Harry's cheek and their heads lying against one another as Draco spooned him. The sun wasn't up yet and the sofa was warm and comfy so Harry slipped into his dreams again. There was a nagging feeling in his mind that it was Draco's embrace and not the sofa itself that was cosy, but Harry dismissed it once Draco threw a leg over Harry's and pulled him in even tight as if Harry was his personal pillow. Being squeezed to death and happiness by Draco was most definitely a once in a lifetime opportunity and Harry was going to make the most of it. He was not a Slytherin, but he was also not blind.