~ CHAPTER TWO ~

"What?" Harry exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "Oh no you're not! I am not spending every waking moment with you. I'd rather be murdered in my sleep."

"Oh, I agree completely," Malfoy said lazily. "I'd rather you were, too. Unfortunately, I don't have a say in this. Kingsley was very insistent."

"No offence," Harry said bluntly, "but why would Kingsley insist on you?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed menacingly. "I'll have you know, Potter, that I am one of the best wizards in our department. Kingsley trusts me one hundred percent. A better question is why wouldn't he choose me. Besides," Malfoy said before Harry could speak, "I may not be a part of the main Auror Office, but the Investigation Department is under Auror jurisdiction. It makes sense that he would choose someone from my department to be your bodyguard."

"Okay, but I'm an Auror," Harry said stubbornly. "My job is to hunt down Dark wizards and protect high profile witches and wizards. I don't need a bodyguard."

"Try telling that to Kingsley," Malfoy said.

Harry huffed. "Okay, but why you?" he asked again.

"Look," Malfoy snapped, standing to face him. "I'm going to hate spending every day in your company as much as you're going to hate me being there, but I'm going to protect your sorry arse from being killed whether you want me to or not! If you have any complaints, take them up with Kingsley, but for now, you're stuck with me!"

The men stood with their chins raised and their fists clenched, dangerously close to pulling their wands on each other. Finally, drawing from a reserve of willpower that he didn't know he possessed, Harry sat down.

"Fine," he said as calmly as possible. "But I'm talking to Kingsley about exchanging you for somebody else first thing Monday morning."

"No complaints here," Malfoy said, still sounding snippy.

The men lapsed into silence, sitting with their arms crossed sulkily and not looking at each other. After a couple of minutes, Harry checked his watch and groaned internally. The last thing he wanted to do was drag Malfoy along with him on his date with Ginny, but it seemed inevitable. He picked up the Elder Wand and twirled it between his fingers.

"Well, my date is in fifteen minutes, so what am I supposed to do with this?"

"I'm way ahead of you," Malfoy said, pulling a small leather pouch out of his inner robes pocket. "This is a protective pouch for the wand. As long as you stay in possession of this, the wand will be safe." He tossed Harry the pouch, looking up at the ceiling as he added, "Oh, and Kingsley wants you to move back to Grimmauld Place, effective immediately. He says it's far too dangerous for you to stay here."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "But what about my job?"

"Kingsley said he'll pass along your paperwork to do at home."

"This is absolutely ridiculous," Harry said, standing up. "I'm not a child being hunted by Voldemort anymore. I'm a Ministry Auror who is not afraid of a couple of punks pretending to be Death Eaters. I don't need protection, a personal bodyguard, or bloody house arrest!"

Malfoy stood up, too. "Save it for Kingsley, Potter. Your main concern right now should be your date with the Weasley girl, and I am not going to be seen in public with you wearing that."

Harry looked down at his half-buttoned dress shirt and unknotted tie. "What's wrong with it? Beside it not being buttoned and tucked in, of course."

Malfoy snorted. "If you can't see what's wrong with it, you definitely need help. Now come on. Where's your bedroom?"

Before Harry could respond, Malfoy strode out into the hallway. Harry hurried after him, clutching the Elder Wand in its pouch and wondering how he got himself into this mess in the first place. Thankfully, Harry's flat was very small, so Malfoy found his bedroom without any trouble. He was standing next to Harry's bed when Harry entered, wrinkling his nose as he examined the dress shirts spread across his bedspread.

"Please tell me this collection isn't the extent of the dress shirts you own," Malfoy said pleadingly, turning towards him.

"It is."

Malfoy groaned. "You're hopeless, Potter." Before Harry could respond, Malfoy strode forward and yanked away the tie draped around his shoulders. "Should I assume that this is the only tie you own, too?" he said, holding it up.

"No, but I like it because it reminds me of Gryffindor," Harry said defensively.

"Oh, please, you don't have to have the colour of your Hogwarts house in every outfit you wear," Malfoy scoffed.

"Says the person who isn't wearing any Slytherin green."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and smirked. "That you can see."

Harry felt his face flush, but Malfoy had already turned away and was checking his closet for his other ties.

"The problem with your outfit," Malfoy said as he rummaged through Harry's clothes, "is that your tie is supposed to be at least one shade darker than your shirt, unless you're wearing a black shirt, of course. If you want to wear the red tie, pair it with a pastel or white shirt. If you want to wear the purple shirt, pair it with a navy blue or black tie. You're going to wear the purple one," Malfoy added, "since it's the nicest shirt you own."

Harry sat down on his bed and finished buttoning up his shirt, feeling slightly miffed that he was being told what to wear by Malfoy.

Malfoy hurried over with a navy blue tie. "Here," he said, thrusting it into Harry's hand. "Tuck your shirt in and put this on. Then we'll do something about your hair."

"I can dress myself, you know," Harry said grumpily as he tucked in his shirt.

"Obviously," Malfoy replied sarcastically, drawing out the first syllable in a way that reminded Harry eerily of Snape.

Malfoy put Harry's shirts and ties away, even though Harry protested that he could do it himself. Then he stood watching with a frown as Harry struggled valiantly with his tie.

"Oh, Potter, don't tell me you don't even know how to tie a tie," he said despairingly, striding forward. "Just stop. Let me do it."

Malfoy's long, pale fingers made quick work of the tie, and it was perfectly knotted in a few seconds flat.

"There," he said, stepping back and inspecting his handiwork. "Very nice, Potter. You almost look presentable."

Harry scowled at him as Malfoy checked the time.

"The Weaslette should be here in about five minutes. Shame, I suppose that isn't enough time to fix the monstrosity that is your hair."

"My hair is perfectly fine," Harry protested, but Malfoy wasn't listening.

"I won't be the only person from the Ministry there, by the way," Malfoy said, leaning against Harry's dresser. "Along with myself, you'll have two Aurors tailing you day and night, and an extra one for the night shift so that I can get some sleep, too."

Harry groaned loudly and flopped back on his bed. "Ugh, just great. Don't tell me we have to sleep in the same room."

"Unfortunately, I'm not supposed to let you out of my sight."

Harry sat up, horrified. "Ever? Oh, you are not following me into the bathroom. I don't care what Kingsley says."

Malfoy laughed. "Don't worry, Potter, you'll get some privacy. Just not much."

"Kingsley is getting an earful from me first thing Monday morning," Harry muttered.

"I'll be delighted to be in attendance for such a promising show."

"Sod off, Malfoy."

"Language, Potter."

Harry lay back down on his bed, suddenly feeling extremely sick. He didn't want anyone to be in attendance for his date with Ginny. It was going to be awkward anyway, but having Malfoy and a couple Aurors there would be a thousand times worse. He almost felt like messaging Ginny and calling the whole thing off, but she would be livid. As it was, she wasn't going to be too happy about Malfoy tagging along. Besides, the reservation was more expensive than he wanted to admit, and they'd planned the date so far in advance. Who knew when the next opportunity to spend a nice night together would be? Harry sat up, fidgeting with his tie. He hoped Ginny liked his outfit, at least.

"Oh, don't mess up your tie!" Malfoy said, sounding exasperated. "Merlin, Potter, if you're that nervous, just pace the room or something."

"I'm not nervous," Harry retorted instantly.

Malfoy snorted but didn't argue.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Harry scrambled to his feet, feeling awkward and overdressed. He checked the mirror one more time and tried to flatten his hair, but to no avail. His panic increased when he looked up and saw Malfoy moving towards the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Harry said frantically. "I should be the first to open the door; she doesn't even know you're here."

"Sorry, Potter, security protocol," Malfoy said. Harry almost would've thought he was being sincerely apologetic if it weren't for the smirk on his face. "Wouldn't want you to open the door to a Neo-Death Eater, now would we?"

Harry grabbed his jacket and followed Malfoy down the hallway, gritting his teeth at the prat's back. Oh, what he wouldn't give to wipe the smirk off his face with a well-aimed hex. Meanwhile, Malfoy had drawn his wand and blocked Harry from view of the door. With an unnecessary flourish, he whipped open the door and pointed his wand directly at the newcomer.

"Jesus Christ!" came Ginny's voice, managing to sound frantic and intimidating at the same time. "What the hell, Malfoy? Put your wand away! What are you even doing here? Where's Harry? If you've hurt him, I swear to God —"

Malfoy stowed his wand and stepped aside to let her in. "Calm down, Weasley, he's as fine as he'll ever be. See? He's right here. I haven't done a thing."

Harry swallowed. From the look on Ginny's face, she was both angry and confused, not a good combination. Her long red hair flowed down her back and her brown eyes flashed menacingly as Malfoy closed the door, smirking at Harry over Ginny's head.

"Harry, what is Malfoy doing here?" she hissed under her breath as she stuffed her wand back in her purse.

Harry prayed for strength and reached out his hand, which she took reluctantly.

"Come on, I'll tell you all about it on the way there," he said, glaring at Malfoy over Ginny's head. "It's a long story..."