Malfoy summoned Harry. This time, it was a lone white rose left on his towering pyramid of paperwork. "Who's leaving you flowers, mate?" Ron smirked. "Are you seeing anyone?"

He swallowed and shook his head.

Draco tapped his wand to a pale violet memorandum, which bent itself into a paper aeroplane and flapped off into the corridor. "I highly doubt it. Leaving flowers for yourself, Potty? That's pathetic," he scoffed.

Irritation prickled through Harry's spine. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy. Or I'll shut it for you."

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "I'm quaking in my boots." Draco went back to his cubicle.

"He is such an arsehole," Ron muttered to him. "Don't let him get to you." He pulled out a roll of parchment for them both to begin their paperwork.

Harry smiled ruefully. "I swear, you sound more and more like Hermione every day."

Rolling his eyes, he said, "I only moved in with her last week!" Ron sighed and made a face at the blank page. "I need a coffee before starting this lot, do you want one?"

"Yeah, cheers." Harry dug around for a handful of Sickles. "Anything with sugar."

"All right. See you in a sec."

Harry passed his fingers up and down the smooth stem of the rose. His heart thudded. A Thornless Rose.

It was going to happen again.

Do I want this?

Absolutely.

With shaking hands, he opened the drawer of his desk and dropped the flower in next to the others. He cast a preservation charm on it. The rose lay beside a tiny fragrant star jasmine and a Colour-Changing Carnation.

He remained absolutely still as the familiar thump of dragonhide boots passed him to get to the quill and ink cabinet. He chanced a peek as Draco ambled back to his desk, and locked gazes with light grey eyes.

Tonight. It would be tonight.

It had been so long since Harry had been with someone who knew his real name or face. He needed this.

The sound of boots stopped behind him.

Everyone else was on patrol, except their boss who had his head in the Floo. They were not alone.

Focus.

He scratched out 'Tuesday, 30th September 2003' at the top of the parchment. He gripped his quill harder in conviction. 'Aurors Potter and Weasley'.

As he wrote out the location of today's arrest, he started at the brush of Draco's fingers. His shoulder tingled at the touch. "I will make it up to you," he murmured. "Work late tonight."

"Is that an order?" Harry whispered.

Draco said nothing as he walked away, looking at him over his shoulder as he went. His musky scent teased Harry–bergamot, leather, vanilla.

Harry resolutely dipped his quill in the pot of ink, and carried on with his work.