You know that feeling when you're really tired/sick/run-down/whatever and you're trying to write, and you're just like… "what's another word for potato"? That's the state I'm in. But I really wanted to update. Thank you so much for your reviews MitsuKun, betweentheloins, bubblecloudz, and icequeen2897 :D They crack me up and give me a ton of feedback with where to go next xD So thank you heaps!
As Harry was packing up his desk ready to leave for the evening, he noticed Malfoy studying him. Since he was fairly sure why, he ignored him.
"Need a hand finishing the big move?" Malfoy asked finally, leaning back against the desk.
Harry made an effort not to react. He needed a way to convince Malfoy not to come back to his house. He had run home at lunchtime with some Amortentia and dotted it around the house as a last ditch effort in case he couldn't give Malfoy a good excuse, but he didn't want to rely on that.
"Nope, all done," he said, knowing it wouldn't be enough.
"Really?" Malfoy asked raising an eyebrow. "All in one night. I'm impressed, Potter. You don't want me to come by? Make sure you didn't miss a few things? I'm more than happy to help." He smiled in a way that Harry had to admit was slightly terrifying. All teeth and nothing behind the eyes.
"I'm sure, Malfoy," Harry said calmly, standing up and looking him in the eyes. "Besides," he added, silently cursing the fact that this was the only excuse he could come up with on short notice, "I was going to go back to the cafe and see if I was imagining whether or not that girl was interested."
Malfoy's smile became even more terrifying. "Well, I'd better join you for that at least," he said, pushing away from the desk. "Make sure you don't embarrass yourself."
Harry snorted. He hadn't expected that, but at least Malfoy wasn't insisting on coming by his apartment.
"Fine," he said, finishing tidying up. "Let's go."
They crept past Wiffleston's office and down to the elevators. Malfoy stopped just before they reached them and pointed to an Auror standing discretely in the corner.
"Mosley?" Malfoy said, looking him up and down. "You're on duty, yes?"
Mosley nodded, his expression slightly alarmed.
"Why?" Malfoy asked bluntly, frowning. "There have never been so many Aurors on guard."
"Low level security alert, sir," Mosley replied cautiously. "I think the memo was only sent to first year graduates, since it was only a code yellow."
Malfoy nodded thoughtfully before turning back to the elevator. Harry frowned as they stepped inside.
"It's only a code yellow," he reminded Malfoy. "Someone probably sneezed on a sneakoscope."
Malfoy shrugged. "Maybe."
They exited the Ministry building and crossed to the cafe. As they drew closer to the door, Harry felt Malfoy tensing up. He watched him out of the corner of his eye, but apart from the firm set of his jaw, he gave no outwardly indication of what was wrong.
Harry sighed. Malfoy truly was a melodramatic prick. When he got like this it usually took Harry days to figure out what he'd done wrong. If he even did figure it out.
"Don't stutter, now, Potter," Malfoy snapped as Harry reached for the handle.
Harry shot him a look that roughly translated to What the fuck is your problem, and opened the door.
"Look who's back," a female voice drawled from the counter. Now that he was prepared for the viciousness of the tone, Harry was shocked to realise that the voice sounded an awful lot like Malfoy.
"Yeah," Harry said with a grin, determined not to let her throw him off balance this time. He looked down at her name tag and saw that it read 'Amy'. "The service was so great, I couldn't resist."
That won him a small smirk, which made him feel almost excited. Until Malfoy strode through the door.
"Oh, and you've brought your little Saviour minions, I see?" She shot Malfoy a dazzling smile.
Malfoy was taken aback for half a second, and then his instincts kicked in. Harry managed to resist the urge to drop his face into his hands, but it was a tough battle.
"I must have misheard you," Malfoy said with a sneer, strolling up to the counter and leaning on it so he was face to face with Amy. "I could have sworn you said 'minions'." He turned to Harry while still leaning on the counter. "Potter, do you think she said 'minions'?" He turned back. "I think she said 'minions'. And if she was really just implying that a Malfoy would stoop to something so degrading as shining Scarhead's bloody boots, I might just have to correct her."
Amy smirked.
Harry suddenly realised he had no idea which of the two he wanted to win this little pissing contest. But if he had to bet, his money was on Amy.
Amy leaned down onto the counter. She was so close to Malfoy now that their noses were almost touching. "A Malfoy, you say?" Her voice was thick with amusement. "Then I will have to amend my statement. You're not a minion."
Malfoy looked smug.
"You're a lackey," she finished, now grinning. "You did He Who Must Not Be Named's dirty work with none of the genius, even if it was a psychopath's genius. Now, what do they call the hunchbacked assistant in that muggle book?" She tapped her chin and stared into the distance thoughtfully. "Igor. That's right. I'm going to call you Igor from now on."
Malfoy's jaw dropped. It was only a slight movement, given how skilled he was at schooling his features into superior derision, but Harry could read Malfoy well. He was stunned.
"Igor?" Malfoy repeated, his voice calm, almost thoughtful. "You must be referring to that claptrap, Frankenstein?" He pushed back off the bench and stood up straight. "Never read it myself," he added airily. "If you're going to read muggle horror, don't waste your time on the verbal vomit of a philistine, you know what I mean?" He cocked his head. "No, probably not." He bared his teeth into an imitation of a smile. "Try some Poe, next time, love. If you think you can manage it, that is."
She smirked and moved to answer, but he had already turned away. As he passed Harry, he shot him a look of such venom that Harry took a step back without thinking. Malfoy swept passed him and out the door.
Harry stood, frozen, for several seconds. He hadn't seen that expression on Malfoy's face since their early Auror days, when Harry had thought Malfoy was still an arrogant tosser who liked to hide behind his cronies, and Malfoy had assumed little better of Harry. He shook his head and turned back to Amy, who was watching him with one eyebrow cocked in amusement.
Fuck it, he thought to himself. Anyone who could rile Malfoy up that much had to be worth knowing. "Dinner, tomorrow?" he asked with a grin.
She smirked. "I finish at 6," she said, leaning on the counter.
Harry nodded, grinned again, and left. Once outside, he looked up and down the street for Malfoy, but it looked as though he'd left already. Harry shrugged to himself - at least he didn't have to make another excuse for Malfoy not to come over - and moved to disapparate.
A loud rumbling through the concrete made him stumble before he could turn. His wand began to vibrate, calling all Aurors to the scene. He focused on the location and disapparated.
Malfoy had beaten him there, although it was only a few blocks away. It was a nightmare. Three buildings - five storeys, each - had collapsed on themselves in a pile of burning rubble. Muggle fire engines sounded in the distance while pedestrians gawked. Aurors moved amongst them silently, cloaked in disillusionment spells, assessing with a calm alertness. Malfoy was already among them, all fury wiped from his face, his professional demeanor in firm control.
"What do we know?" Harry asked, walking up to Malfoy immediately.
"Instantaneous explosion," Malfoy answered. "Middle building first, quickly followed by the outer two; clearly a central explosion with a roughly circular area of effect. Muggles are calling it a gas leak. It looks like a potion to me." He gave Harry a look loaded with meaning.
Harry ran a hand through his hair in agitation and began to walk the perimeter.
When they met to debrief, they had no further news. All casualties had been portkeyed to St Mungo's - muggle and wizard alike - with a high chance of recovery. There were no remnants of the potion to test, such was the strength of the blast. But Harry was confident in Malfoy's knowledge of potions, and Malfoy was confident that there were very few potions with that kind of potency.
But it was nothing solid to go on. And when Malfoy insisted on coming back to Harry's, Harry had run out of excuses.
They apparated into the apartment and Harry watched as Malfoy immediately began to search. He didn't even hold up a pretense.
"You sure you got all of it?" he asked Harry, glancing at him as he waved his wand where the bookcase had been. Since Malfoy didn't have the key to unlock the charms, and there was no weakness for him to exploit, he had no choice but to believe Harry.
Harry shrugged. "Pretty sure," he said, going for casual. "If I find another stash, I'll move it." He shifted uncomfortably. A small part of him was beginning to acknowledge that Malfoy was doing this for Harry's benefit, even if his concern was misguided. "Thanks, Malfoy," he said awkwardly. "For, you know, helping. And not making me destroy it."
Malfoy's eyes widened slightly. "You're welcome, Potter," he said stiffly. "Merlin knows you're an idiot and you need all the help you can get. I still can't believe you left that crap in your house for years and didn't think it would have an effect."
"It won't," Harry snapped without thinking. "It didn't," he corrected, shaking his head. "Anyway. Whatever. It's fine."
Malfoy snorted, but seemed not to have noticed Harry's mistake. "Still stubbornly deluded. Can't say I'm surprised." His voice turned casual as he took a seat on the edge of the couch. "How did it go with the she-devil?"
Harry sat down warily. "We're having dinner."
Malfoy's eyes flashed, but outwardly he only nodded. "Wonder how long you'll last with that one," he said, leaning back and tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Surely you won't be able to stand being with someone so bitter and sarcastic." There was something dangerous in his tone, but Harry couldn't figure out what or why.
"I'm sure I'll be fine," Harry said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
There was a pause before Malfoy finally sighed and relaxed. "Well, what are we eating for dinner, then? I'm starved."
Harry let out a sigh of relief and stood up to see what was in the fridge.
"And, Potter," Malfoy called out as he left. "Did you bathe in that ridiculous shampoo of yours, this morning? Your apartment reeks of it. Open a window for Merlin's sake."
A/N Apologies, Malfoy is a little bit brooding in this one. I promise the snark and banter will come back soon xD Also, I have no idea what Harry sees in Amy. Sigh. Except for the little bit of Malfoy of course ;) But her own personality kept coming through and changing her from the original plan… which I guess you've just gotta roll with.
Oh, also... I've been wondering how far to go with this one? In the sense of - do I delve into the world of smut? xD I'm really not sure... any thoughts? I'm really conscious of the fact that I don't know the age of my readers. I don't want to alienate any of you if that's not what you want in a fic (if you've read Protection, you'll know the general level that I usually go to, which is steamy but not smutty, but with all the UST I'm leaning toward in this fic, I was wondering if it didn't suit a more smutty vibe? I'm really torn). What do you want, people?