The Secret Life of Draco Malfoy Chapter 5: Draco's Unexpected Visitors, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or the HP fandom. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: First, I want to apologise because I should have changed the rating to M in the last chapter since Draco starts talking about his cock and wanking. I hope no one was offended. From now on, this is going to be an adult story. Hopefully, that doesn't change your mind about reading it. Also, thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed so far! I'm so glad that people are enjoying the fic. Harry's finally back in this part. ; )

Enjoy.

~8~8~8~

The next morning found Draco at the office bright and early. He had barely slept the previous night, tossing and turning all night. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could picture was Antonio and Harry. Sometimes they were laughing and dancing, but most of the time, Harry was leaning against the doorpost of his flat, wriggling his eyebrows in his faux sexy look and asking Antonio if he wanted to come in for a nightcap.

It was awful. His dreams were plagued with images of Harry writhing under Antonio, begging him to fuck him harder and deeper. Draco kept waking up in a cold sweat and with the urge to empty his stomach. Finally, he got out of bed, beauty sleep be damned, and made his way to the office early, for the first time in ages. Draco was not a morning person, regardless of his career choice.

He sat at the receptionist desk and browsed through some magazines. There were still two hours left before the clinic opened and he was bored out of his mind. Usually, a stray patient or two would have wandered in, but today he was having no luck. Really, he should be happy that there were no emergencies and sick animals clouding his clinic, but he couldn't help but be annoyed. All he asked for was one patient to make the slow scorch of time stop eating away at his brain. Three shots of espresso was not how he liked to start his day.

He looked up at the clock again, 7.03. Fuck. Draco swore that at least a half hour went by since the last time he checked on the clock, not three measly minutes.

Today was not going to be a good day; he could feel it in his bones. Wednesday mornings were slow at the clinic since most patients didn't come in until the late afternoon, but today was going to be brutal even for a Wednesday. There were only two appointments scheduled for the entire morning, and they were just simple checkups. Thank god that Draco had remembered to bring reading material.

At home, he spent most of his free time reading animal science and medical journals. He was a firm believer that human medicine and even certain magical elements could be transferred and applied to veterinary science. While Muggles couldn't withstand any application to magical potions or treatments, animals even non-magical ones, appeared to have no ill effects thus far to any of his experimental treatments.

Draco hypothesized that all animals, even regular cats and dogs, had magical cores or at least the potential to absorb magic, which Draco found fascinating. Slowly, he was compiling enough research to submit his findings to an academic journal. He knew that his findings were a major breakthrough, but he doubted that anything written by former Death Eater Draco Malfoy would ever be published in the wizarding world—and he couldn't send it to a Muggle journal. They would either think it was a joke or threaten to lock him up. Neither option was acceptable in his eyes. When the time came, he needed to find a suitable pseudonym.

Oh, well. He looked up at the clock again, 7.15. He might as well use this time to get some work done.

At this point, Draco had got over his caffeine jitters and was able to concentrate on his reading. He had charmed an old issue of Men's Health to hide his personal research journal and lab notes. It wasn't that he didn't trust his other colleagues, but he didn't want people, especially Antonio and Bertha, to be snooping around his work. Plus, he also kept the newest edition of GQ in his reach. Just because he was a boring swot now didn't mean that he couldn't be the best dressed doctor in all of London. He was sure that he could add some type of aesthetic cost to his office visits. After all, not all doctors were as attractive as he was.

Time crawled by and it was just about opening time, quarter to. Draco decided to take a break from his work and flip through the latest issue of GQ when he was disturbed by the squeaking of shoes. Merlin's beard, who in their right mind would wear trainers that grating?

He looked up from his magazine and came face to face with the last person he wanted to see, especially when he was sleep deprived and cranky: Harry fucking Potter.

Well, that explained it. Only Potter could be clueless enough to be caught dead in those hideous and screeching trainers. His fashion sense had not improved in the last five years. Not that Draco hadn't tried to offer indispensable fashion advice to Potter—but no—he liked the train wreck look. It was comfortable.

Draco scowled, giving Potter his most disapproving look. What was he doing here again? He was already dating Draco's ex and flatmate. Did really have to infest his workspace too?

"Potter," Draco growled, "go away. Your little boyfriend isn't here. He's probably still sleeping off whatever it is you gave him yesterday." Draco deepened his scowl. "Drinking on a weeknight. That's low even for you, Potter. Some of us have to work for living, you know. Antonio hasn't been that sloshed in ages."

"Right." Potter ran a hand through his hair and laughed nervously. "Good Morning to you too, Draco." He smiled. "I see your sunny morning disposition is still intact."

"Shut up, Potter. I told you Antonio isn't here. Leave."

Draco wanted to scream. Potter was standing there and ogling him with that stupid clueless, innocent look of his. It was so infuriating. Why was the git acting as if they were still friends?

Potter continued to stare at him, those annoyingly green eyes shining brightly behind his glasses. They were starting to throw Draco off. The bastard did it on purpose, knowing it made Draco bonkers.

Then Potter had the audacity to laugh, and not his nervous laughter of before, a real hearty laugh that lit up his entire face, creasing that one adorable dimple of his and even crinkling his eyes.

"Jeez, Draco. Is that really how you treat your customers? No wonder the place is empty."

Draco's face grew hot. He did not want to get into an argument with Potter. If he didn't leave soon, Draco was about to curse him through the wall. Since it was his clinic and all, he didn't want to deal with the clean up. Although—if need be, he could always pawn the job off on one of the interns. It was good being the boss.

He mentally patted himself on the back for quick thinking and then scoffed at Potter, schooling his features into his all too familiar Malfoy sneer. He hadn't used that sneer in ages, as he didn't want to scare off the patients and their owners, but Potter always found a way to drive him over the edge.

"I don't have customers I have patients you complete berk," Draco snapped. "And I can treat you anyway I please, considering you aren't either."

Draco huffed and slammed his clipboard on the reception table, for dramatic effect, of course. He was quite proud of his little speech.

Potter frowned and then started tugging at the loose fringe on the end of his oversized sleeves. "I'm not here to see Antonio," he finally said, his voice much quieter than before. "I came to see you."

Draco scowled again. What the hell was Potter thinking? He really was insane. "Where's your sick pet?"

"Huh?"

Draco sighed. "This is a Veterinary Surgery, Potter. And unfortunately I'm the only doctor on duty at the moment...so unless you have a sick dog, cat, parakeet, tarantula, whatever. Get out of my sight."

Potter's frown deepened and his face fell, a wretched look spreading over his face. It made Draco want to hug the prat, but he couldn't give into Potter's game. Be strong. Be strong, he repeated to himself.

"I-I don't have a pet with me, but I was hoping we could talk."

"Does this look like a therapist's office to you? " Draco sniffed. "I have nothing to say to you. "

"But-but..."

"No, buts. Get out! Get out!" Draco was shouting now, wild magic coursing through his veins. It was so rare that he ever lost control of his magic. Bloody Potter. Even as a child, he didn't have problems reigning in his magic. Boy Wonder needed to leave, and now, before Draco did something he would regret and that would get him tossed into Azkaban with his loser of a father. He didn't want to spend anymore quality time with Daddy Dearest. He'd already had his fill for a lifetime.

Potter opened his mouth to protest but then closed it. He gave Draco a sad little nod, that same wretched look still on his face. "Fine," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "But here's my card, just in case you change your mind."

He slid a small white card towards Draco and turned around, leaving the clinic with his shoulders slouched and head looking at the ground.

A horrid gut-wrenching feeling stirred in Draco's stomach as he picked up the card that Potter had left him. He should feel ecstatic. He actually won a confrontation with Potter, a feat that rarely happened. Why did he feel like shit then?

All he could think of was that last defeated and dejected look Harry had given him. It was like a knife through his heart. How did Potter always have this control over him? It wasn't his place to feel bad. Potter was the one that had destroyed their relationship even if Draco was the one who had technically left. There was nothing left to say, especially now that Potter was dating Antonio.

He sighed again, a new habit he picked up since Potter reappeared in his life, and studied the small card. Surprisingly enough, it was written in neat green ink.

Waggy Tails Photography
Harry Potter
Professional Pet Photographer
Available for house calls and studio visits.
Please ring or write to set up an appointment and for more information.

T: 07824 988216

~8~8~8~

Potter could not be serious. A professional pet photographer? Draco had never heard of such a job, but then again a lot of his clients did seem to dress their smaller pooches in ludicrous outfits and studded collars, so he supposed that there were always crazies out there willing to spend money on anything. Oh well, it didn't matter. If he were lucky, he wouldn't have to see Potter again. He'd made it clear to the idiot to leave him alone. Not that Potter had ever been good at listening. He always did believe himself to be above the rules.

Draco fingered the white business card. He'd been staring at the damned thing all afternoon, and even though he knew he should just toss it, something stopped him. How ridiculous. It was just a stupid card and some letters, not even Potter's real handwriting since it was much too neat. Why did it matter to him? Because Harry gave it to you, a traitorous voice in the back of his mind cried. Deep down, you hope that he still has feelings for you...like you do for him.

"Shut up," Draco yelled at his subconscious. He did not have feelings for Potter anymore. That was absurd, especially after the way things had ended between them. Potter was trying to annoy him, to get under his skin like he always did. That was all.

"Who are you yelling at?"

Draco spun around in his chair and found Allison standing behind him, her arms crossed in front of her chest and eyebrows raised. She must have finally returned from her lunch break.

Draco frowned and narrowed his eyes. "There was a bug," he lied, trying to brush Allison off. His assistant was always too nosy for her own good and was never around when Draco needed her, much like his receptionists. In many ways, Allison reminded him of Pansy, which was the only reason he kept her around.

Allison did not look convinced. She had that annoying determined twinkle in her dark eyes. Whenever she had that look on her face, Draco knew he was in trouble.

"Right," she said, leaning against the desk and studying him closely.

Draco tried to keep his face as stoic as possible and slipped the business card into his sleeve. Allison noticed anyway. What a meddlesome wench.

"What is that?" Her eyes widened and red lips parted.

"It's nothing," Draco snapped. "Get back to work."

Allison laughed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes, let me go treat all these invisible patients."

Draco sniffed. Just because Allison was two years older than him, did not give her the right to be so disrespectful to her boss. Not that he would ever say anything. He wanted to keep all his limbs intact; he knew how scary she could be and he witnessed what she did to Barry or Larry, an old technician that used to work there, who ogled her arse a little too closely.

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Allison was faster. She reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out the card. Damn! His Seeker reflexes must be rusty.

She waved the card in the air. "What do we have here?" She scrunched her nose at him and gave him a victorious look.

"Waggy Tails Photography. Harry Potter." A high-pitched squeal flew out of her mouth. "I knew it. You have a thing for Harry."

"Are you mad, woman?" Draco threw his arms up in exasperation. "I don't even know the bloke."

Apparently, Allison didn't hear him because she continued prattling on. "Draco fancies Harry. Draco looooves Harry."

"Shut up! Shut up!" Draco stood up from his chair and covered her mouth with his hand. "If you say another word, you're fired." The words seemed to fall from his mouth. He wasn't serious. Allison might be annoying, but she was the only one of his assistants under the age of sixty. He was about to apologize when the crazy bint actually bit him.

Draco cried out in pain and Allison just shrugged. "You deserved it." She tossed her long hair behind her shoulders. "You've fired me three times now," she said, her voice smug. "It never sticks."

"Jesus fucking Christ," he cursed, eyes raised to the ceiling. He wasn't sure how he started saying that, but Antonio always screamed it when he was upset. It seemed appropriate. "Can't I get a sodding patient?"

For once, it appeared the universe was taking pity on him. A familiar chime rang in his ears, alerting him that a potential patient had walked in. Without saying another word, he sprinted out of his office and towards the reception area, praying that his next patient wouldn't be turned off by his enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, he had given thanks too soon. His luck was not changing and the universe was still holding an infinite grudge against him. Draco did not have a potential patient waiting for him by the receptionist desk. Instead, he came face to face with Harry-I-Live-To-Destroy-Draco's-life-Potter.

Draco crammed his hands in his pockets and let out an exasperated sigh.

"What the hell, Potter?" he grumbled. "Don't you have anything better to do with your life than annoy me?"

Potter stared at him, his hands hidden behind his back.

"Draco, hi." He offered Draco a polite smile, which made Draco want to kill the prat even more. Why was he being so nice? God, he was always so infuriating.

"Yes, hello, Potter. Just like earlier...Antonio is still not here. Goodbye."

Draco turned on his heel and scrambled out of the room, not wanting to chat with Potter any longer than necessary, especially with Allison in the other room. Before he could make his getaway, a warm hand grabbed the back of his shoulder.

"Draco, please." Potter's voice was strained and oh-so desperate. "I need your help."

Hearing Potter so upset caused an uncomfortable lump to form in the back of his throat. He should have kept walking and shrugged Potter off. He didn't. How could he when he used that voice? He might be a Malfoy, but he wasn't heartless.

He gulped and slowly turned around, preparing himself for the desperate plea that was sure to be in Potter's eyes. Draco hated that look; it always made him forgive the idiot for whatever atrocity he had committed.

"What is that you want?"

Draco stared at Potter, ignoring the urge to throw his arms around him until he smiled. The git could not know that he was affecting him. When it came to Potter, Draco needed the upper hand at all times.

Potter looked down at the floor and hid behind his long fringe. He looked absurd, not adorable. Definitely not adorable. "I don't mean to bother you again," he said, his voice quiet and child-like. "But you said to come back if I had a sick animal." He lifted his head and locked eyes with Draco, his eyes shining with hope. "Winston is sick."

Draco closed his eyes. Bloody hell! How could this be happening? Yes, he had been desperate for a patient, but why did it have to be Potter and his cat? And what kind of bloke named a cat Winston?

He took a deep breath and then opened his eyes. Potter stood there, his hands still hiding behind his back and a pathetic, hopeful look on his face.

"Potter, I don't have—"

"Please." Potter removed his hands from his back and pulled a purple glittery carrier to his chest. "For Winston."

He opened up the carrier and pulled out a small tuxedo cat. The cat had sad grey eyes that shone silver under the fluorescent lighting of the room. Draco swore the cat was pouting at him. Well, if cats could pout and all.

Defeated, Draco threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, fine."

"Thank you! Thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah," Draco grumbled. "Let's just get this over with."

~8~8~8~

"What's the problem, Potter? I don't have all day...you know."

Draco had led Potter and Winston into examination room number two, and he was now running a full body exam on Winston, checking his body condition, eyes, ears, etc. He really was an adorable cat, not that he would tell Potter.

"Harry."

Draco dropped his hands from Winston's back and picked up his head. "What?"

"Call me, Harry," Potter repeated. "You used to."

Draco scoffed. "Things change." He glared at Potter as if he had just told him the earth was flat.

He reached out his hand and covered Draco's with his own. "Draco, things don't have to be like this."

Draco's eyes grew wide; he snapped his hand away from Potter as if it had been scalding hot. "Yes, they do," he insisted. "And call me Dr Malfoy. This is an appointment for Winston not a social call."

Potter's face darkened, that soft, friendly look disappearing from his face. "Why are you always like this?" he snapped. "I just want to talk to you."

Draco ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. "Well, I don't want to talk to you. How can I get that through to your tiny brain?" He scowled. "Why do you keep doing this to me? Isn't it enough that you're dating my flatmate? Just..." He picked Winston off the table and pretended to examine his teeth. "Just leave me alone."

Draco wanted to kick himself. He was beyond pathetic. He wasn't supposed to lose it like this in front of Potter. But it was no use. No matter what he did, Potter always broke his heart.

"No...it's not like that." Potter furrowed his brow. "Antonio and I we aren't—"

"I don't want to hear it."

Draco lifted his hand, asking for quiet. He placed his stethoscope in his ears and bent forward to examine Winston. In order to get a proper heart rate reading, he only needed to listen for about ten seconds. Instead, he listened for a good minute and a half. He needed to catch his breath, to take a small mental break. Being around Potter always made him frenzied, and he didn't want the poor cat to suffer. It wasn't Winston's fault that his owner was such a prat.

"Winston's heart sounds fine. I don't hear any abnormalities."

When Draco looked up again, he saw Potter biting the corner of his thumb. It was red and slightly swollen—the idiot must have been biting it the entire time he was listening to Winston's heart. Part of him wanted to slap Potter's hand out of his mouth and tell him off for that disgusting habit. Merlin knew he'd reprimanded him enough times when they were actually together. Things were different now. It wasn't appropriate to lecture Potter about his bad habits, and he certainly didn't want to touch him again.

He wasn't sure how his body would react. Even after all this time, Potter was still an annoying speccy git—but he was a bloody attractive speccy git. It wasn't fair.

"That's good." Potter dropped his finger from his mouth immediately, like a child who had been caught in a cookie jar by his parents. "I-I-"

"Mr Potter," Draco said, interrupting in his most professional voice. "As you know, I'm a very busy man, and I'm not seeing any serious issues with Winston. Why were you so insistent on bringing him in?"

Potter bit the corner of his lip, his face taking on that crushed look that made Draco want to scream. "It's his back paw." Potter walked over to Winston and grabbed his left hind leg. "He's been chewing on it non-stop for days and he's starting to pull hair out."

"I see." Draco nodded, trying to keep the professionalism in his voice. It was difficult though when his heart felt as if it were going to pound out of his chest.

"Yeah, and he's been scratching a lot too." He frowned and gave Draco a troubled look. "I wasn't sure if it was serious. But...I was scared. Winston's just so—"

"Important to you."

"Exactly."

"I know it sounds stupid but he's—"

"Everything. I know."

Draco gulped and then bit his tongue, forcing himself to shut up. Oh, holy Salazar. What was he thinking completing Potter's sentences like that? He hadn't done that since...

With every passing second, the intensity in Potter's gaze grew; his eyes were so bright and earnest, shining at Draco with a fierce longing that he hadn't seen in years. Why was Potter looking at him like that? A shiver prickled down Draco's neck; he was biting down on his tongue so hard that he could taste blood in his mouth. This needed to stop. Immediately.

"An allergy." Draco's voice was rough, foreign to his own ears, but it was enough. At least he had broken the uncomfortable daze between them.

"What?" Thankfully, Potter stopped looking at him and turned his gaze towards Winston, who was still sitting on the table, staring up at both of them with curious silver eyes.

"An allergy," Draco repeated. "Winston probably has an allergy of some sort." Draco paused, not wanting to insult Potter for Winston's sake. "Unless you think he has fleas," he added, trying to refrain from his usual accusatory tone.

Potter shook his head and bent over to scratch Winston behind the ears. "You don't have fleas, do you, boy? Daddy Harry brushes you and gives you anti-vermin potions all the time, doesn't he?"

Draco arched an eyebrow and had to bite down on his lip to refrain from laughing. "Daddy Harry?"

A pink tinge spread across Potter's cheeks. "Shut up, Malfoy. You're the one that works with cute, fuzzy animals all day. You wouldn't think an evil Slytherin like yourself—"

"Enough."

Draco pushed Potter away from the table and examined Winston's paw closely, making sure to cast a silent numbing charm before touching him. A charm of his own invention.

"Yes, his skin is all red and there are some open sores. I recommend you change his diet. It's probably that." He released Winston's paw and then ran his fingers down the cat's back, massaging him for being such a good patient.

"Oh, I didn't think—"

Draco snorted. "Of course, you didn't think, Potter. It's you. What does Winston usually eat? It's probably best that you switch him to a grain-free hypoallergenic diet."

"Erm..." Potter creased his brow and shrugged. "He eats whatever I eat...just in smaller portions."

Draco gasped, his eyes opening so wide, he was certain that Potter could make out his pupils. "Are you mad? You're lucky that you haven't killed him. Merlin's beard. I knew you were thick, Potter...but this is low even for you. Haven't you ever heard of cat food?"

The flush in Potter's cheeks grew brighter, like two rosy patches on a cold winter's day. "I tried cat food, but he didn't like it." He bit down on his lip again, reminding Draco way too much of the boy with the oversized glasses and unruly hair he had been back in school. "I didn't want him to starve."

Draco shook his head and reached into the drawer underneath the examination table. He pulled out a small fish shaped biscuit."This...is an organic hypoallergenic, grain-free, dairy-free cat treat. Recipe of my own creation." He waved the treat underneath Winston's nose, who happily took it and started munching on it right away.

"If you lead a busy life, which I doubt," Draco added with a smirk, "then you can purchase a similar dry food from Allison in reception. Or...if you insist on feeding Winston human food, you can come back another day and speak with Evie or even Antonio about the proper nutrition and supplements you'll need to add to Winston's diet."

Antonio. Draco had been so caught up in his lecture on proper nutrition that he forgot about Antonio. It was almost like old times with Potter, him being an idiot and Draco helping him clean up his mess. Thinking about Antonio and his relationship with Potter caused a sharp pain to rise in his chest again. Fuck.

"I'm so sorry...so sorry." Potter sniffled into Winston's ear, burying his nose into Winston's neck. "Will he be okay?" He looked at Draco with tear-filled guilty eyes.

"He'll be fine. Just go talk to Allison. She'll give you a topical cream to put on any open sores and can help you with the diet." He turned away from Potter, no longer being able to look into those heartbreaking eyes and patted Winston on the head. "See, he's fine. Now get out of here. I've got better things to do than stare at your ugly face all day."

Potter laughed, a genuine smile spreading across his lips. "Thank you." Carefully, he picked Winston off the table and tucked him into his carrier. As he turned and walked out the door, purple carrier in hand, Draco swore he heard him whisper, "I'm sorry."