Malfoy leaned back with a weary sigh. "We need to make a break-through on this case, Potter."
Harry frowned. "What does that have to do with Parvati?"
Malfoy made an exasperated noise. "Nothing. I've already forgotten about her. I'm just bored and this case is taking far too long. How could we not have any leads?"
"But- But you said it was going really well with her. It sounded like you cared a lot about her." Harry was bewildered.
Malfoy stared at him like Harry couldn't possibly be this dumb, which made Harry remember that - of course - Malfoys didn't love. That harsh reminder of just how futile his crush was hit Harry like a physical wound, and he felt ill.
"I've been thinking," Malfoy continued as if Harry hadn't spoken, "that we need to get a closer look at the smuggler's trade if we're going to find out who's behind this. Wiffleston put us in charge, bless him, so it's time for us to show him exactly what that means. I'm sick of tip toeing around and letting him bog us down with bureaucracy."
Harry couldn't help grinning at that. "When have you ever tip toed around?"
"Precisely. Apathy is no excuse for obedience, and I intend to change this at once."
Harry realised suddenly that he hadn't felt his usual listlessness in quite some time. Not since the case had begun in earnest, and certainly not since his Severe Proximity had begun to cause trouble. As aggravating as both those things might be, he couldn't help but be relieved at the change.
"If we leave at lunchtime, Wiffleston won't realise for several hours," Harry said thoughtfully.
Malfoy smirked at him, an odd look of relief in his eyes. "There's my clever little Auror partner. Glad you're back, Potter."
"Pass the chips."
Harry passed the chip packet wordlessly and re cast their Muffliato charm to mask the sound of Malfoy's crunching. "It's been two hours," he said quietly. "Are you sure your sensors are working?"
"Same wards as around the Ministry," Malfoy muttered back. "If there's anything matching Portentia's signature within a 500 metre radius, we'll know. If we only had one potion to imbue the wards with, I'd be concerned, but we've seen tons of her potions by now so the warning should be quite fail safe."
"But this is the main smuggling ring those bastards were part of." Harry grabbed the now empty chip packet out of Malfoy's hands and angrily threw it into their box of rubbish.
"Then they must be shipping them a different way. The sensors should pick up even recent traces from past shipments, and since we've been here two hours and found nothing, not even a glimmer, we'd best call it a day."
Malfoy looked uncharacteristically disheartened. Harry felt the bizarre urge to cheer him up, but when Malfoy got like this, nothing short of finding a lead would change his mood.
Harry had a thought. "You know," he said slowly. "We could question one."
Malfoy looked up in surprise. "You mean...?"
"Put our elite interrogation skills into practice?"
Malfoy grinned. "Oh, Potter, you shouldn't have."
They made their way carefully down from their vantage point at the top of the old warehouse, covered in the invisibility cloak. Fortunately, the warehouse was newly built, its steel beams and staircases free of creaks and rattles. When they reached the floor, they stunned some poor sap who was storing goods in a room off to the side and shut the door after them.
Malfoy whipped off the cloak, rolled up the sleeve on his left arm, and grinned. The smuggler - a young man of around eighteen and the one they had thought the weakest looking - took one look at the Dark Mark on Malfoy's arm and whimpered.
"Listen up, love, because I'll only say this once," Malfoy purred, surprising even Harry with the cruel edge to his voice. "Your mates stiffed me on my last Portentia run. Tell me when your next shipment is so that I can ensure I'm fairly compensated."
The boy - to his credit - set his jaw and refused to talk. Which seemed a good sign, because it meant they probably were in the right place.
Malfoy grinned. It wasn't pleasant. "Are you aware that we have you surrounded?" He asked conversationally.
Harry obligingly cast a stinging hex on the boy's hand.
The boy shrieked and caved in. "Alright, alright I'll tell you, just don't tell them I told you. They've booked a room at Sally's for the tenth. Be there and you can strike a deal, I'm sure."
None of that made any sense, but the closed door would soon be noticed.
Malfoy nodded curtly. "Keep our chat to yourself, and I won't mention where I got the tidbit."
The boy nodded, looking around the room in fear. Malfoy slipped back under the cloak and they left.
"None of that was legal," Harry said sternly when they had found the car again. He was only half serious - the smile on Malfoy's face was worth it.
Merlin, when had he become so pathetic? And how had it taken him this long to notice?
Malfoy shrugged. "Smith and Wilson are raiding the place to arrest the smugglers tomorrow anyway, so even if he does manage to tell the others about a Death Eater wanting info on Portentia's next shipment, they're hardly going to connect it to me. There are enough Death Eaters still in hiding who would kill for her wares that even if they do know about me, I won't be their first thought."
Back at the office, Harry had a message waiting for him from Amy, asking him to come to the shop when he was back. Checking that Wiffleston was nowhere nearby, he left Malfoy - whose mood had suddenly and inexplicably deteriorated - to go see what she wanted.
The bell above the door jingled, and Amy looked up. With a smirk she signalled for him to meet her out the front in five.
Harry could tell by the look on her face that it wasn't good news, but, strangely, he found he didn't care.
"Harry." Amy shut the door behind her but didn't take off her apron, which Harry recognised as a bad sign.
He raised his eyebrows and waited.
Amy laughed - a little awkwardly - and ran her hand through her hair. It was the first time Harry had seen her look less than cool. "Yeah, you guessed it. I think I need to take a break."
"After one date?" Harry asked coldly.
"I know it's strange. It's just the timing, honestly. Something's come up and this can't work right now. I'm sorry."
Harry noticed that she actually did look genuinely sorry.
"If everything works out in a couple months or so, I'd like to try again," she continued. "But I don't expect you to wait around."
Harry said nothing.
Amy sighed. "So, I'll see you sometime?"
Harry paused, but finally relented. He smiled. "Sure, we'll see what happens."
Amy looked relieved. "Right, well I'd better get back."
They said goodbye awkwardly, and Harry left thinking about how that was the strangest break up he'd ever had.
"And how was the she-devil?" Malfoy asked with a sneer when Harry returned.
Harry huffed a laugh, still in shock from the strangeness of the conversation and the fact that he wasn't upset. Although, really, that should come as no surprise. "She needs a break."
Malfoy's eyebrows shot up. "After one date? Well I did warn you I didn't like her." He looked inappropriately pleased. "I guess that means I have to hurry up with my next date," he said with a smirk. "Or you might - heaven forbid - think of catching up to me."
Harry snorted. "Maybe we should forget about the competition," he said, trying to mask how morose he felt at the thought of watching Malfoy date woman after woman while flaunting it in his face.
"That's the attitude of a quitter."
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, so I was thinking." Malfoy stuck his feet up on the desk and looked thoughtfully into the distance."
"Here we go."
"We need to learn more about these potions if we're to find out where the cache is and stop the trade." He eyed the two foot stack of paper on his desk querelously. "And I, for one, don't feel like compiling Bozo one and Bozo two's reports. So I've decided we should go back to the Dark Magic ward and see if they have any information on her." He suddenly narrowed his eyes at Harry. "You will, of course, be under strict supervision. If you even think of secreting anything out of there, Potter, I will transfigure you into a gnat so quickly you'll forget how to breathe."
Harry, the picture of a mature adult, pulled a face and left the room, leading the way to the ward.
The ghosts were used to them by now, merely welcoming them and offering assistance before going back to their tasks.
"Those texts you lent us were most appreciated," Reginald said in a hushed tone to Harry as he settled down at the table between Reginald and Barnaby. Fortunately, Malfoy was still scanning the shelves and didn't hear.
"Don't mention it," Harry said wryly.
Reginald shushed him, so he turned to his text and began to research.
Sometime close to the hour, Malfoy had a three foot parchment of notes to Harry's one foot, and Harry had discovered an excellent spell that could solve his withdrawal problems.
He had read it several times already, committing it to memory, and was fairly certain that it would allow him to make a continuous offering in exchange for clarity of mind and spirit. At least that's what Harry could make out. It would drain him physically - that was the offering part - but the constant reassurance of dark magic flowing through him would hopefully counter that, and, bonus, it might help with their case.
He ignored the fact that Malfoy would kill him if he found out.
It was strange, but now that he had acknowledged his feelings for Malfoy, he realised just how much they permeated through everything that he did. He watched Malfoy constantly. The tilt of his head as he concentrated on something, the way his hands moved elegantly over parchment, the scent of his shampoo.
Just listening to Malfoy snarkily argue about something with Wiffleston was reassuring to him, the way it reminded him that he wasn't alone in this crazy world that put the kind of people who counted the number of sugar sachets used per tea break in charge of justice.
Malfoy was reassuring to him. When had that happened?
It made him feel ever so slightly guilty that he was going behind Malfoy's back. But what was he supposed to do? It was better this way. He was right - he was sure of it. Malfoy just didn't understand how it worked.
"Potter," a slow voice drawled over his shoulder. "That doesn't look potion-related. What are you reading?"
Harry froze. Malfoy couldn't find out. He'd watch him even closer, and then Harry wouldn't be able to survive the withdrawals. He needed to distracted Malfoy.
He did the only thing that made sense.
He kissed him.
Sorry for the cliffhanger xD Next chapter is half written so should be quicker... (Through some stroke of luck, she got into rehab early :) She's there now, assuming detox went fine. Will be there for either 4 months or a year, which is all positive news.)