Malfoy's eyes went dark and he pressed his hands firmly on Harry's chest. The look in them burned through Harry.

He swallowed thickly and slowly reached between them, palming Malfoy through his robes. Malfoy shut his eyes and moaned, sending a spark of arousal down Harry's spine, settling in his groin. He needed to hear it again.

Harry moved his hands into Malfoy's trousers and pushed past his pants, feeling the trapped heat he knew was Malfoy's cock. He wrapped his hand around it. Malfoy moaned louder and his breath slid down Harry's neck like a hot fog.

He stroked Malfoy, watching his face change and his breath catch as he fought to keep himself steady on top of Harry. Harry kissed Malfoy's (right) arm as he touched him, feeling the soft light hairs there against his lips and tongue. Harry's cock was aching. The sun in his eyes was blinding and sharp. It vaguely occurred to him that people might see them out in the yard but Malfoy bucking into his hand distracted him from it.

Harry built up the rhythm and Malfoy spread his legs wider, knees smearing across the grass. His cock was slippery with pre-come and Harry's own cock twitched under his robes. The smell of Malfoy was intoxicating, an acerbic sweetness between the vomit and the crushed grass and it was making him dizzy with want. Malfoy was silky smooth and hard in his hand and Harry felt the heat sear through him.

Harry stroked in quick lengths and Malfoy was making sounds that seemed too soft for that sharp a mouth. Malfoy dipped his head and kissed Harry, letting his teeth graze the borders of his lips. Harry was flushing hot from his chest and up his neck and tried to loosen his robes but Malfoy had them bunched up in his fists.

Harry kissed his neck instead and Malfoy arched into it. Malfoy slipped one hand under the waist band of Harry's pants and Harry nearly came when Malfoy's thin fingers (finally, finally) clutched his throbbing cock. The touch was light but sure and Harry groaned as Malfoy's wrist twisted at the base of his cock and came back up along the length. Harry hoped he was doing something that felt half as good. He bit his lip and continued to stroke Malfoy until Malfoy's hand slowed and he came with a soundless cry into Harry's fist and across his belly.

Harry came right after in Malfoy's stilled hand, spurting into it and over his stomach, too.

Malfoy seemed to have caught his breath in the meantime. He pushed himself off of Harry and off the ground and dusted himself as he stood- real dust.

"Come on, we're going to be late for work," he said, looking stern but not sounding it at all.

Harry looked up at him, gaping. "Are you-what are-you serious?"

Malfoy smiled at him. The insufferable git. Harry thought he kind of liked that.

"That was fun. Er. Last night, I mean."

"For you, maybe," Malfoy said. He offered his hand to Harry to lift him up. Harry thought he saw another bruise peeking out from where his robes had loosened at the chest but Malfoy had already hauled him to his feet and the sun was too bright to tell for certain.

Harry spelled them into the house and they floo'd to work from Harry's fireplace not a minute late for work.

Much to Harry's disappointment, he didn't see Malfoy again for the rest of the day though his head perked hopefully over his workbench at the sound of shoes clacking in the hallway.

He didn't see Malfoy again for the rest of the week. He stopped by Malfoy's office once in a moment of weakness but it was empty and dark. He left a note that said 'Hi. -Harry' under the door. He didn't get a reply.

That Friday, Harry had a long talk with Shacklebolt about his responsibilities and duties and they both agreed that he could use more work out in the field. Harry was surprised at how adamant he sounded when demanding more cases and was even more surprised at how willing Shacklebolt was to accommodate his wishes. Almost immediately after, Shacklebolt sent out a flying memo to all departments to redirect incoming cases to Harry.

"That's awesome, Harry," Ron said cheerfully over the water cooler. "Cheers, mate!" and pretended to toast him with his dixie cup.

"Thanks, Ron" Harry said brightly, unable to hide his excitement about being on duty again. "How was your anniversary?"

"False alarm," Ron said with a sigh of relief.

"When is it really, then?" Harry asked.

"I hadn't gotten there yet."

Harry laughed.

When he got back to his office, there was a note under his door. "Congratulations."

The days blurred together with Harry spending more time out of the Ministry than in it. Harry began to think that this weird Malfoy thing was a blip in the system. He had spent all afternoon in Diagon Alley, investigating a disturbance behind the Madam Malkin's. He had to separate the two witches who were hurling insults at each other, quarreling over the last plum-coloured traveling cloak.

"Look at her skin colour!" The tall, bushy-haired witch cried, pointing a finger at the other, "Do you think purple would even look good on her?" She looked at Harry expectantly with a scowl.

"Er..." Harry replied, still holding his arm up to keep her back, "I really can't say."

"It's not even in her size!" She shrieked, reaching around Harry's arm to thrash at the air between her and the other witch who was smirking at her while holding onto her package. The tall one whacked Harry in the face with a flailing hand.

Harry was only too happy to leave the scene. Three hours and a four page report later, he trudged towards the Ministry Floo, eager for home. He rolled his head on his shoulders. He felt his neck crack and it felt good. It was the longest day at work in a while and he had missed celebrating a Canons victory with Ron and Dean and Neville at the Three Broomsticks.

There were still a couple stragglers rushing about the atrium and Harry felt a little better about not being the last to leave. As he picked up powder with his fingers, he caught a blond head out of the corner of his eyes, a moving figure in his periphery. Harry looked up and barely caught Malfoy flooing away in a hurry. His face looked hollow. In the green glow that swallowed his body, Harry could make out a bunch of papers in his hands.

Harry's eyes widened behind the reflection in his glasses as he recognized his own handwriting on them. Fergilius Fern.

You're not supposed to take official documents out of the Ministry, Malfoy.

Harry couldn't help it. He needed to know.

He changed his mind about going home. He turned right back around to his office.

One hour and four face-palms later, Harry still didn't understand. He searched the Ministry archives for the name from the file: Fergilius Fern. He looked it up in Magical records and even cross listed it with Muggle records. He had filled out the paperwork just weeks ago and it never took this long for the records to update. He wracked his memory. Fergilius Fern, 50 something years old, British Wizard, one case of potion abuse in his file. Harry blinked at the search result: 0 hits. This man didn't exist.

Harry leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet onto his desk. He stared at the ceiling, bewildered.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Harry said to himself.

Malfoy was reading a heavy book that he set down as Harry stepped into his office.

"Don't you knock?" he complained. But he looked pleasantly surprised.

"Sorry," Harry said, "I had some free time and wanted to see what you were doing."

"Some light reading," Malfoy sighed, shoving the huge volume he had been reading to the side.

Harry laughed. But it was troubled.

The blinds behind Malfoy were drawn half way and the slits of light and dark that crept into the room made the grey office look like a jail cell. The shadows fell onto the table and the floor, elongating the distance between them. "You seem busy recently," Malfoy said absently, gesturing for Harry to take a seat. Harry felt a warm spark of satisfaction that Malfoy had noticed. Had he been looking for him? Or avoiding him.

"Yeah, I've been on more active duty recently," Harry told him, plopping down across the sterile desk. Malfoy smiled at him. The room looked washed out- the walls were grey, the table was grey, Malfoy's face looked grey except for the warmth of his lips. Harry suddenly felt that the room was too small and that it was centered around Malfoy's mouth.

"I'm glad it worked out for you," Malfoy said.

"Me too. How about you, have you been busy?"

"Always."

"I stopped by yesterday but you weren't here."

"I must have been in a meeting," Malfoy lay his hands on the table, palms down. His eyes were are grey as the rest of the room.

"No, after hours. I wanted to see if you wanted to get another drink. Did you just go home after your meeting?"

"Yes."

"Oh," Harry's heart sank into his stomach at the lie. "I never see you flooing home."

"I work a lot of over time."

"Don't you want to spend more time with your mom?"

Malfoy looked at Harry critically. "Of course I do. Though I think she prefers her own company to mine sometimes."

Harry seriously doubted that. He remembered the concern in Narcissa's frightened eyes as she asked Harry if her son was still alive. He remembered a pang of jealousy that Draco still had a mother to love him. "Oh," Harry said instead. He realized he was still jealous.

"I was closer to my father," Malfoy said eventually. Harry felt a cold stone of hatred form in his belly. The man was vile and Harry fought the curling of his lip at the thought.

"He put me on my first broom. Taught me my first spell. He gave me great advice when I was in school-"

"Like how to hate muggles?" Harry offered, bristling.

Malfoy's mouth twisted into an angry shape. "They hate us."

"They do not!" Harry said, though he wasn't sure anymore. His mind's eye recalled the look of fear and disgust in a muggle's eyes before Harry casted an Obliviate. (He hated doing that.)

"He's a great man," Malfoy insisted hotly, his eyes flashing in challenge.

"Yeah, a great man who almost killed me," Harry protested bitterly. He felt the rage building and burning behind his eyes. How can you defend someone who nearly killed you, too?

Malfoy looked at him angrily. "He had to."

"He didn't have to do anything. He could have done the right thing."

"Voldemort would have killed us at any time if we didn't follow orders. My father had no choice. I had no choice. I was living in fear for a year, Potter. I had no idea if-if I failed, if I would have have a family to come home to. You should know something about protecting the people you care about. There's no such thing as right or wrong. And you're a fool to think otherwise."

Malfoy looked anguished. His face was troubled and his mouth was a furious line, twisted against itself. "Is this what you came here for? I don't need you to forgive me, Potter. And if this is why you've been seeking me out all this time- I'm sorry to disappoint, but you're not going to find what you're looking for."

And Harry was instantly sorry, too. He felt guilty. And he felt like an arsehole for thinking Malfoy was up to no good, sneaking about the Ministry, when it was his job to keep secrets. Malfoy was probably better at hiding secrets than anyone.

"You always have a choice," Harry said stubbornly.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Malfoy said. "It happened."

But Harry could tell it mattered to him and was sure Malfoy knew it was a lie too.

When Malfoy leaned forward in his seat the light from outside spilled over his head and shoulders onto the table. The edges of Malfoy's hair gleamed gold in the afternoon glow like a static corona. His eyes were cold against the grey stillness of the room. Everything was wrong about it and Harry felt it pecking at his chest. It fluttered in his gut like a caged bird.

Harry was ashamed of himself for coming. And more ashamed for thinking Malfoy seemed the most human when he was the most fragile.

"That's not why I'm here. I'm here because I wanted to see you," Harry managed.

Malfoy looked tired.

"Your dad would be really proud of you," Harry said quietly.

"Would he?" Malfoy looked uncomfortable and shifted in his seat. The movement rustled his robes like sandpaper in the silence. It felt like a breath of fresh air. "I'd like to think that," he said.

Harry smiled at him. Malfoy almost-smiled back. The room burst into life.

A/N Please read and review.