"Come on in, Harry," Shacklebolt said from beyond the wooden French doors. Harry went in, bracing himself for the conversation that was about to be had. "Good to see you. How are you liking life as an Auror so far?" Shacklebolt gestured for Harry to take one of the seats across from him at his desk.
"It's not too shabby. Today was my first real day of training. Before it was mostly paperwork, false claims of seeing loose Death Eaters that never came to fruition. We're starting training with Stealth and Tracking." Harry wasn't being entirely honest; he'd come into work that day in a rather cheerful mood until he'd found out his who his trainer was. John Dawlish, the same John Dawlish who'd come leading a party of Aurors to arrest Draco, was now teaching him how to track enemies and dodge their attacks. That didn't much make for a pleasant workday, but Harry wasn't about to complain to the Minister about it before it became a big deal. He could handle it. He'd handled worse and survived.
"Ah, yes. I think you'll do quite well with that, if your little forest expedition is any indication." Harry wasn't sure he'd call that an expedition, being hunted by Snatchers, and pretty much everyone else, while barely eating and searching a dead-end trail for Horcruxes. He didn't know what he'd call it, but 'expedition' wasn't the first word that came to mind.
"Thanks, sir," Harry said instead of pointing that out.
"I think we're beyond the point of 'sir's and general formalities. Kingsley." Harry nodded. "You seem tense. What is it you came to discuss with me? Surely not something as mundane as paper filing and training."
"No. It's more serious than that," Harry said with a slight, uncomfortable smirk. "I came to talk to you about the Auror Department and the fact that I feel there may still be some lingering corruption." Kingsley's eyebrows rose in surprise. Harry had a feeling that this wasn't what he expected him to say.
"Why do you feel that way? Does this have anything to do with the recent Malfoy case?"
"A lot, yeah, but not completely. You're aware of the fact that a lot of the Aurors who worked here during Voldemort's reign don't anymore." It wasn't a question, but he waited for Kingsley's response.
"I am."
"Then you're probably also aware that some of them do still work for you."
"Yes." Kingsley's replies were stiff and measured. This was clearly a difficult topic for him.
"I'm not questioning your leadership skills by any means, but I think it would be worth looking into. Do you remember how Draco looked when he showed up for his last hearing?" Harry thought that anyone who was at the hearing and didn't would've had to have been Obliviated in order to not remember.
"I remember."
"I can't say for sure, but there were probably other Death Eaters who went on trial who looked to be in similar conditions. Am I wrong to guess that?"
"You are not."
"Don't you feel that it's kind of… wrong? That anyone who goes to Azkaban and comes out looking like that is being mistreated?" Kingsley sighed, and closed his eyes momentarily before responding.
"Harry, you have to keep in mind that these are Death Eaters we're talking about. They're not your average, run-of-the-mill criminals. Some of them have killed entire families, and those that weren't killed were permanently damaged to the point where the life they do live isn't one worth living. Does the name Longbottom ring a bell?" Shacklebolt didn't sound upset, didn't sound admonishing or condescending, as Fudge had been towards Harry, but he was missing the point.
"I understand that, but we're not them. We're not supposed to act like they would, we're supposed to set an example. If we're beating and breaking these people, regardless of what they've done, they're less likely to learn a lesson. Hatred breeds hatred. There's no cure for whatever mental disease you have to have in order to act like a Death Eater, but if there was, it wouldn't be physical abuse. I thought that was why you banished the use of Dementors as guards. I remember you saying they were inhumane. How is beating someone within an inch of their life any less so?" Harry was surprising himself with his words. He hadn't prepared a speech of any sort before coming in here, nor had he really had a plan for how he would express his feelings. If Harry was reading him properly, Kingsley was just as surprised as he was. As Kingsley mulled over Harry's words a silence grew in the room. Finally the Minister seemed to formulate a response, however, but it wasn't what Harry thought he'd say.
"You're right."
"Excuse me?"
"You're right," Kingsley repeated simply. "It's not humane and it does need to be investigated. I'm thankful that you brought this to my attention. I've been trying not to repeat the mistakes of Ministers before me, and when you get to a position like this people tend to give their advice in extremes. The fact that prisoners have been mistreated hasn't been pointed out to me so far, and I have a feeling that if anyone else had done so it would've become a very heated discussion." Kingsley steepled his index fingers and tapped them to his lips thoughtfully. "You've got quite a way with words, Harry."
"Thank you." He'd never thought so, himself. People even made jokes towards him about his lack of skill formulating a proper sentence.
"Have you ever considered a career in politics?" Harry chuckled at that question.
"No, not once in my life. It's too complex for me, and I already feel as though I'm put in the spotlight far too often."
"Hmm, well that would only amplify if you did take that career path. Can't say I blame you for not wanting that. It's not always pleasant, as I'm sure you know by now. If you ever change your mind, know that you'd have my full support."
"I know too well how bad it can be. Thank you, though. I'll think about it." Harry wasn't planning on thinking about it, but it'd be rude to say so.
"Back to the topic at hand. Was there anything else you wanted to ask me about?"
"Yes, actually. I wanted to explain my situation with Draco better. He's been detained here under ridiculous grounds, rumours that were spread by a newspaper that's known for stretching the truth until it breaks, and nobody seems to want to get his perspective on things. They all just jump to conclusions about him because he's the son of Lucius Malfoy, or because he was a Death Eater, but nobody knows that he was forced to get that bloody tattoo because of the fact that his father failed a task set before him by Voldemort. It was a punishment, not something he chose."
"Harry, you can calm down. I know all of this thanks to the Pensieve evidence he gave the Department of Magical Law Enforcement this morning."
"Wait… he gave Pensieve evidence?"
"Yes, and he was released because he was able to satisfactorily prove his innocence in more ways than one. I'm surprised nobody told you. Then again, it was kept pretty quiet due to the nature of the investigation request."
"You're telling me he was released… earlier today?" Kingsley nodded. "He's not here right now?" Kingsley shook his head. "I've got to go," Harry said quickly as he rose from the chair. "If you'll excuse me."
"Don't forget to punch out," the Minister called after him. Harry rushed back to the Auror Department, punched his time card, and then sprinted to the Floo room, accidentally burning the hems of his trousers in his hurry to get home.
The first thing Draco did when he got home was shower. He hadn't had one since the morning he'd been arrested and was ripe enough that he could smell himself. It was no wonder that Auror hadn't wanted to be near him, though Draco was pretty sure that his body odour wasn't the reason behind that.
His shower lasted over an hour, long enough that the water began to run cold before he got out. As he toweled off he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Three days without real sustenance and he already looked like he'd lost weight. He walked the short distance from the bathroom to his bedroom and rummaged through his dresser until he found the red shirt Harry had made him get. At the time he'd told himself he'd never wear it, but he missed Harry and just wanted to be comfortable. He'd slept in his robes for two nights, and under those he'd been wearing suit trousers and a button down, which hadn't done much to aid in his sleep. Draco pulled the soft t-shirt over his head and let it drape around him, then pulled on a pair of cotton pyjama trousers. As much as he was sure he looked like a homeless person he couldn't bring himself to care. Even if Harry did come home to find him in such casual clothing, he was sure that the surprise of him being home in the first place would override his amusement. At least he hoped as much.
Stomach growling, he made his way to the kitchen where Kreacher was already cooking something up on the stove, using a small wooden stool to see above the burners.
"Master Draco," Kreacher greeted him without turning around. "Kreacher welcomes you home." Draco felt the corner of his lips rising in a half smile at the word 'home,' which he'd only recently begun to describe this place as.
"Thanks, Kreacher." Then he realised he was speaking to a house elf, which was not Malfoy behaviour. But he wasn't much of a Malfoy anymore, was he? At least not on paper. Not legally. Not in his mother's opinion. "So how has your day been?" The metal spoon Kreacher had been holding clattered on the counter and he jumped a bit at Draco's question.
"Master… It is Kreacher who should be asking you how your days go." Draco nodded in agreement.
"That may be true, but there are no rules against me doing the same for you." Not anymore, he thought to himself. Since I'm not longer a Malfoy, I think there are many rules that no longer apply to me. If Kreacher had any eyebrows they would've joined the patches of grey hair sprouting in odd places from his scalp.
"But a proper pureblood such as Master Draco should not lower himself in this way. Kreacher serves Master, not the other way around." As if to prove his point, the elf then asked, "How was Master's day?" Draco chuckled a bit at the humour the scene held. He was tempted to point out to the little rickety elf that asking Draco how his day was constituted as having a conversation, which he'd just said was below his blood status, but thought better of it.
"Fine, now that I'm not holed up in a jail cell."
"Kreacher was not happy at all when the men came to take Master. Not at all. Kreacher wanted to save Master, but the Ministry is a place that house elves cannot go." Draco wasn't aware that house elves weren't allowed in the Ministry, or that there was a force of magic that could keep them out of any place.
"That's interesting, Kreacher. Why aren't your kind allowed in the Ministry? Is there some sort of ward that keeps you out?" Kreacher's eyes narrowed, and Draco thought that he probably realised the trap he'd accidentally put himself in by talking with Draco. Promptly the elf turned his back to him and resumed cooking whatever meal he'd been working on. It didn't make much sense to Draco why this house elf was so stubborn about things as trivial as having a discussion with a wizard, but he thought it unwise to bring the topic up when Kreacher had realised that he'd broken his own rule.
About twenty or so minutes later Kreacher set a bowl of chicken tikka masala in front of Draco. The steam that rolled off of it smelled heavenly and Draco didn't even wait for it to cool off before shoving a large bite of it in his mouth. Whatever slop they'd served him at the Ministry had barely been palatable, and he hadn't eaten most of that rubbish. This was much tastier, and having eaten so little and so poorly the last three days, Draco scarfed it all down within minutes and a second serving was plopped into his bowl soon after.
By the time he was finished eating, his exhaustion set in. Sleeping in uncomfortable clothes and being away from his own bed had deprived him of two good sleeps, and he was due to make up for it. After he thanked Kreacher for the delicious meal and got no response, Draco went up to his bedroom and was about to feed Cosmos when he saw that there was already half a bowl of treats and two live mice in his cage. Draco made another mental note to thank Harry for taking care of Cosmos while he was away, then pulled the covers back on his bed and climbed in.
When he woke again there were arms around him, squeezing tightly. Startled, he jumped a bit in his bed, but relaxed when he smelled Harry's familiar scent. He was leaning over Draco's bed, face buried in the crook of Draco's neck, just holding him.
"How long have you been here?" Draco asked, still sounding groggy. He hadn't fully woken yet, but the process was quickened by Harry's presence.
"I just got home from work," Harry said into Draco's hair. "I'm so glad you're back." Draco wrapped his arms around Harry as well and tugged him closer without actually pulling him onto the bed.
"Me too." Harry got himself loose from Draco's grasp and sat on the edge of the bed near Draco's knees.
"You're probably really tired still, though, so I won't keep you up. I just wanted to see you for a moment and make sure you were okay."
"Really, really exhausted," Draco admitted. Though he would've loved to get up and visit with Harry until the wee hours of the morning, he had a feeling it would only add to his ruined sleep schedule. "'M happy you woke me up, though. I missed you." He sounded soft even to his own ears, but he was too tired to care.
"I missed you, too." Harry paused and stared at Draco, and the latter couldn't tell what his expression meant, as it was a mixture of several emotions that were difficult to discern. "Well, I should probably let you get back to sleeping, shouldn't I?" He stood up from the bed and began walking away, but then turned around and came back to the bedside. Quickly, almost so fast that Draco was unsure of whether or not it even happened, Harry bent down and planted a chaste kiss on Draco's cheek. Then he left the room and Draco fell back asleep shortly after.
Several hours later the smell of herbs and spices intruded on Draco's dreams of memory pools and lost time. He sat up in bed and looked around, easily finding the source of the smell. Breakfast sat on a tray nearby steaming still, though it had probably sat there for longer than it would take a normal breakfast to cool. His stomach instantly clenched at the scent and, before he had even thought about it, he was shoveling the potato hash and sausage links into his mouth. He'd barely finished half of the dish when there was a knock at his door.
"Come in," he said around a mouthful of potatoes. His manners were normally much better than this, but he was too hungry to care. The door creaked open and Harry popped his messy haired head into the room, a smile on his lips.
"Morning. How'd you sleep?" Harry asked as he came more fully into the room.
"Fine, thanks. You?" Draco paused stuffing his face in order to respond, then continued to shovel food into his mouth as Harry came to sit on the edge of his bed.
"I slept alright. Listen, last night I didn't want to bring this up, but I can't put it off anymore." Draco paused from eating his nearly finished food to look up at Harry in confusion.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, no. Nothing's wrong, just… Did they treat you badly at all? How did they feed you? Did they hurt you? What sort of room were you kept in?"
"Harry, one question at a time, I just woke up," Draco said crankily. He didn't mean to be sharp, but being spoken to when you've just woken up is never pleasant, even if you've just gotten out of jail and the person talking to you is Harry Potter. "What was the first one?"
"Did they treat you badly?"
"That depends on what your standards are. By my standards, absolutely, but it was much more comfortable than my cell in Azkaban, I can tell you that much." Harry tensed and his lips pinched together.
"Well how much were you fed?"
"Twice." Harry's face didn't change, but his eyes were smoldering behind his spectacles. "It's not so bad; again, it's more than I was given in Azkaban. I had a warm bed, privacy, no cold water flooding my cell every time the ocean had a bone to pick with me. It wasn't as bad as you're thinking."
"Did they hurt you?" Harry did not sound appeased. He sounded calm, but that was almost more alarming than if he were to be having an outburst. Draco wasn't sure if it was a good idea to tell Harry about the slap to his face that morning by that specific Auror now that he could tell it would greatly upset him; however, Draco had taken too long to respond, and Harry asked again, "Did they hurt you, Draco?"
"One Auror slapped me awake the last morning I was there." He felt like a tattle tale for saying it, but then again he had told himself to ask Harry about that Auror.
"Did you happen to catch his name?" There was an edge to Harry's voice, barely detectable, but definitely there.
"No. Grant was really nice, though. Kind of short at first, but she was more pleasant than that other one." He hoped that mentioning another official who had been kinder to him would take Harry's mind off of the Auror who had been violent towards him.
"What did he look like?" Apparently Harry wasn't willing to drop the matter.
"What are you going to do if I tell you?"
"I'm going to have another meeting with Kingsley," Harry said simply. There was still a tightness to his voice.
"Another meeting? Did you have one with him today?" Harry nodded. "What was that about? Please tell me it wasn't about me."
"In a way, yeah. Mostly I was addressing the lingering corruption in the Auror Department. It's obvious to me that it's not completely taken care of, and the most blatant sign of that was how you looked at your hearing. This isn't just about you, though. Imagine how other people who have done worse things than you are being treated by people who are supposed to be setting an example. You were slapped. Even that's not okay, but just think what other, worse criminals are being put through."
"Harry, these are criminals, though."
"You know, Kingsley said the same thing. It doesn't matter. No human should be put through the things that the Aurors have been putting them through. It's not right." Draco chuckled. Harry was always the hero, regardless of the situation. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, it's just that you're always saving someone. It's like you've got some complex about it." Harry didn't seem to think it was funny at all.
"I don't have a hero complex, I just know the difference between right and wrong." Draco didn't really know what to say to that. Harry was probably right, anyway, and it was probably just Draco's old fashioned views that were causing him to disagree. That was a habit he intended to kick, so there was no point making fun of serious matters.
"Regardless of right and wrong, I'm alright. I'm home now and the Ministry will be slow to jump on me from here on out."
"I still plan on talking to Kingsley about that Auror. What did he look like?" Draco sighed. Harry was not going to drop it until he at least gave him this. "And did you happen to figure out who filed the request? I meant to ask Kingsley, but I forgot to."
"Tall, bit of scruff on his face, not very large, dark hair, rude demeanor. And yeah, Grant told me it was a man named Dawlish. Wasn't that the one who arrested me?"
"Yeah… yeah he was. He's also my new trainer. Not exactly excited about that. Anyway, that could be any number of my co workers, you'll have to give me more detail than that."
"Okay, he kind of looked as though he hated his life. Oh!" Draco had just remembered the name that Grant had used as they were heading to her office. "Randall? I think that was his name. I can't be sure, though, because I didn't look to see who Grant was yelling at."
"I know exactly who that is. Real arsehole. He's supposed to train us when we get to Concealment. Not very excited about that, but who knows. Maybe he'll be put in his place after I talk with the Minister."
"I don't feel like it's necessary, but obviously I can't stop you." Harry chuckled, and it made Draco feel lighter. Their conversation had gotten tense, and he had hoped he could turn it around, though he wasn't sure why what he'd just said had done that.
"Do you realise how strange that sounds coming from you?" Harry asked.
"Why?"
"Think about it. You got slapped across the face and you don't want revenge? That's just weird." Now that Draco thought about it, it did seem strange. Perhaps his time in Azkaban had broken him.
"It's not that weird," he said in his own defence. "I just don't feel like starting anything that could go badly for us."
"It is weird, but I appreciate that. By the way, I got a letter from the Prophet accepting my proposal for an interview. That's why I'm not at work right now. They've requested it as soon as possible, so I thought I could use that as an excuse to get out of work and spend a bit of time with you before we do the interview." Harry paused, looking unsure of himself. "You do still want to go, right?" Draco looked down at the remnants of food on his plate and thought of what he'd like to do.
"Well, I've asked Grant to put a good word out there for me in the Quibbler, but how many people really read that?"
"More than you'd think, actually. I get their papers every time they print. I just skip over the nonexistent creature stuff."
"Grant suggested the same thing. It's good that you have a subscription to them; I'll be able to make sure she keeps her promise."
"Right. So are you going to go with me, or not? I can understand if you don't want to. You have been in the spotlight a bit much lately."
"I have, but it would be nice if it were positive for once. I'll go with you, Harry. I already said I would, and a man's only as good as his word." Harry's lips curved upward again. "You still owe me that back rub, by the way."
"Of course you wouldn't forget that," Harry said while rolling his eyes. He stood up, then, and vanished the plate of food from the room. "Alright, well you should start getting ready. The interview's in an hour, so I'll leave you to get dressed. I like your shirt, by the way." Draco looked down, having forgotten what he'd worn to bed, and when he saw the bright red shirt his cheeks heated.
"It's just soft," Draco said, yet again feeling the need to defend himself. "It's not as comfortable as normal wizard clothes, but I was too lazy to find a different shirt." Harry chuckled at Draco's bad attempt to cover for his actions.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, I already know that's your most favourite shirt in the world," he teased.
"It's not," Draco said firmly. Harry held up his hands in mock forfeit and left the room. As soon as the door clicked shut Draco's face broke out in a toothy grin and he tried to shake the excitement in his nerves.
He removed his sleep clothes and went through his dresser, unsure of what to wear, when he came across one of the muggle jumpers he'd bought. It was getting chillier, and the cashmere would feel really good against his skin. Barely hesitating, he pulled on the cream coloured garment and found a black pair of trousers to go with it. Maybe it wasn't as prim and proper as his parents would've demanded he dress for reporters, but it was what he felt like wearing, and their demands could burn in Fiendfyre for all he cared. Fed and dressed, Draco applied the smallest bit of cologne, smoothed his hair with a comb and setting charm, and went to the drawing room to wait for Harry to meet him.
Catching sight of the piano in the corner, Draco sighed. It wasn't his cello, but it would maybe ease the need he felt to play his old one. Maybe he would get a job in the future, once society had accepted him again, and he'd buy a new one. That could take years, though, he thought sadly. He didn't want to wait years to play cello again. The thought of asking Grant to inquire about his cello crossed his mind, but he remembered painfully that it didn't really belong to him anymore, since he'd been disowned. His mother knew how much he loved his cello and he doubted she would allow him to have it back.
He sat at the piano bench and uncovered the keys, then opened up the beginners piano book that still sat on the music rack. As he began to play, he felt as though he was really beginning to get the hang of it, but he had a feeling this was only because of his prior musical knowledge. It still sounded like he didn't quite know how to play, but he was getting there. He'd almost finished playing one song through when he felt two hands land softly on his shoulders. Without a word, Harry he assumed, began massaging his shoulders and neck, causing a small moan of appreciation to escape his lips. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a massage and with all the tension that had built up over the last couple of years it felt divine, even with Harry's clumsy movements.
"Is that alright?" Harry asked, his voice quiet and hesitant.
"Mhm, yes," Draco sighed absently. Moving his hands downward a bit, Harry worked into Draco's back straps. He relaxed his neck, allowing his head to lull forward a bit, until Harry found a particularly mean knot residing near the bottom of his rib cage in his back strap. Draco hissed with the pain and Harry eased the amount of pressure he felt Draco relax under his hands again.
"That's a huge knot," Harry told him, as if Draco couldn't feel the large mound of stress that had accumulated in his back. "Is this wool? It feels a lot softer than anything Molly's knitted me."
"Cashmere, actually," Draco corrected. His voice sounded milky to Harry, more thick than usual.
"It looks new," Harry commented. He thought he saw several jumpers similar to this on display at one of the clothing shops they'd visited the other day, but he couldn't be sure. "When did you get it?" He felt Draco tense again, but he hadn't begun using more pressure on his back.
"I… actually, I got it at that shop." He'd had a feeling that was the case. A knowing smile played at his mouth.
"So you're not completely against muggle clothing, then, are you?" Draco didn't answer, and Harry moved his hands back up to his shoulders, rubbing his thumbs along the muscles beside Draco's shoulder blades.
There was so much tension in Draco's back, and if he didn't know how painful it was, having his own back issues, he could almost have been sucked in to the intimacy of the situation. He'd never touched Draco so much in one sitting before, and it felt really casual compared to how it might've felt a month before. As he rubbed Draco's back ideas for their first date redo popped up into his head, and he thought that later that evening he'd like to take Draco out somewhere.
"What's your favorite type of food?" he asked, trying to get a better idea of where to go.
"Chinese." That was very surprising.
"They allow you to eat Chinese food in wizarding society?" Draco scoffed at Harry's question.
"There are wizards in China, too, you know. And yes, it was actually pretty common in our household. Mum loves Chinese food, so she taught the house elves to cook it, and even exchanged a few house elves from someone in China to make it more authentic, as she put it."
"Your family is really strange." Not that his wasn't.
"That's true." Harry brought his hands higher up, to Draco's scalp, and began gently scratching there. "Stop! You'll mess up my━ oh…" He trailed off, and Harry was pretty sure he'd found a sweet spot near the nape of Draco's neck. He smiled again, satisfied at having found the ability to steal the words right from Draco's mouth and make him not care about his hair. Normally Draco was very anal about how his hair was placed, and the only time Harry had ever really seen it out of its usual pristine arrangement was when he'd found out his mother had disowned him. That, and during the war, but everyone was looking tattered and out of sorts then, to say the least.
Several more minutes went by of Harry scratching Draco's scalp before his fingers began to get sore. He did his best to rearrange Draco's hair into a more organized state, and let his hands fall to his side. Then, without really thinking about it too much, he placed a kiss at the curve of Draco's neck. Draco turned on the bench to face him with hooded eyes and Harry couldn't stop himself from kissing his lips, too. It wasn't a long kiss, just enough to get the point across that Harry was glad he was back, but all he'd needed or wanted to say was there in that kiss.
Harry stood up straight and smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles in his button down shirt. He was wearing the outfit that Draco had picked out. Originally he wasn't going to dress up for the interview, but he knew how everyone liked to say he looked disheveled all the time, and had even taken some Sleek Eazy's hair potion and tamed his hair into a subtle pompadour style.
"You look very nice, Harry," Draco told him, his voice appreciative. "I'm surprised I didn't have to con you into wearing that outfit."
"I decided it wouldn't hurt to dress up a bit."
"That's the opposite of what I was going for." Draco stood and adjusted the collar on Harry's shirt a bit. "So when should we head out?" Harry checked his watch before responding.
"Soon, probably. I'd like to be a bit early, in case other reporters have found out about the interview. They're likely to hoard around the Floo fireplaces at the ministry." Draco nodded and together they went down to the basement to use the Floo.
When they arrived at the Ministry there were a few reporters there, but nothing they couldn't shake off easily. Skeeter was nowhere to be seen, but Harry had doubted she would be present, since he was giving an interview with the same paper she wrote for. They went through the Ministry and up to the floor where all the meeting rooms were and Harry began searching for room 26. Not five minutes later they stood outside of the room, waiting patiently.
"Do you think they'll really show up?" Draco asked nervously.
"I do. There's no way they'd miss up an opportunity to interview me, as stupid as that is. I'm not as interesting as people might think."
"Sure, easy for you to say. You're only the boy who defeated the most infamous Dark wizard known to magical kind. Not very interesting at all." Harry frowned a bit at Draco's sarcasm, but didn't say anything. Thankfully he didn't have to because at that moment the meeting room opened and a tall, slender man stepped out.
"Harry Potter! So good to see you, I'm very glad you've asked for an interview," the man said. "We've been hoping to get one from you, but we weren't sure you'd like to do one."
"So long as Skeeter isn't asking the questions I don't mind," Harry said. "Who are you, by the way?" He was going against Brit standards by asking that, but he didn't really care if he made the man uncomfortable. Harry wanted to make it clear that he wasn't going to mince words or be pushed around.
"How rude of me," the man said, obviously uncomfortable. "My name is Timothy Agrüs, but you can call me Tim." Tim looked back and forth between Harry and Draco. "Er, pardon me, but I wasn't informed that Draco Malfoy would be attending the interview along with you."
"I must've forgotten to mention that," Harry said with a stiff smile. "You won't mind if he sits in, will you?"
"N-no, not at all!" Tim did mind, Harry could tell, but he wasn't going to say anything about it. "Come right in, we've only got so much time. An hour should do it, don't you think?" Tim opened the door and ushered Draco and Harry in. The first thing Harry noticed about the room was that it wasn't devoid of people. There was only one other person there, and it was Rita Skeeter. Harry had to fight the urge to take his wand from his trouser pocket and hex her.
"Excuse me, Tim, but what is she doing here?" Harry asked as calmly as he could manage. "I thought I explicitly said that I wouldn't do an interview if she was going to be a part of it."
"Actually, you said so long as she wasn't doing the interviewing. I'll be asking the questions, but she requested the ability to supervise, just in case things got out of hand." Harry's jaw clenched and he hoped it wasn't perceptible.
"I'm not sure why things would get out of hand, but I refuse to do an interview with her in the room. If that's not something you can make happen then we'll just be leaving." Harry waited for a moment while Tim debated with himself internally. When Tim didn't say anything, Harry turned towards the door. "Alright, Draco, looks like this meeting is over. Let's go."
"Wait!" Tim called out to them. They'd just made it back to the hallway. "I can make her leave, I think. Please, this would be huge for my career."
"My life isn't a game you get to play," Harry said quietly, but fiercely. "I'm not some staircase to greater things, I am a human being. That woman has written nothing but drivel about me and Draco, and I will not allow her to do it again." Tim seemed taken aback by Harry's words, but simply swallowed loudly and nodded in agreement.
"She'll go."
The three of them went back into the meeting room and Harry saw that Skeeter had moved to stand nearer to the door, probably to get a good listen in case Harry got 'out of hand.' Tim walked over to her and said something in her ear that Harry didn't quite catch. Then he recalled the fact that she was an animagus and that in her beetle form she could easily listen in to the interview without being noticed.
"Listen, Skeeter," Harry said, keeping his tone neutral. "I know you're an unregistered animagus, and I know that you take the form of a beetle. If I have to I will turn this room upside down to make sure that you're not crawling around listening somewhere." Skeeter's mouth dropped open.
"W-who told you such nonsense? That's simply ridiculous! As if I, an upstanding journalist, would break the law in such a manner!" Skeeter began giggling in a high pitch, glancing at Tim to check if he was buying Harry's accusation. Harry thought that maybe Tim wasn't aware of her being an animagus, but Harry wasn't concerned with keeping her secret safe.
"Don't you think it would be better that this 'nonsense' stayed in this room, rather than in another paper?" Harry asked innocently. "It would be a shame if the Minister decided to check and see, wouldn't it?" Skeeter narrowed her eyes and her lips formed a tight fuschia line. She gave an equally contemptuous look to Draco, but then left the room with no further threats being issued.
"Wow, Harry," Draco said, sounding impressed. "Didn't know you had it in you to be as cunning as us Slytherins." Harry smirked in response to Draco's comment.
"Now that she's taken care of…" Harry trailed off, then turned to shut and lock the door. Taking his wand from his pocket, he cast a silencing charm over the entirety of the room and several wards on the door and windows. Skeeter wouldn't be crossing that barrier unless she wanted to be incinerated on the spot.
"Yes. Down to business, I suppose." Tim sounded more nervous than ever, but Harry didn't mind. It would hopefully go in their favour if Tim was scared to write anything less than accurate about them.
Draco followed Harry as he led the way to the table, taking seats beside each other. Tim sat several chairs away on Harry's side of the table. The shaking reporter took a corked inkpot, quill, and roll of parchment from his robes and set them out on the table in preparation. When he'd finished getting the parchment to stay unrolled, he looked up at Harry with a scared smile.
"Is it alright if I start asking questions now?" Harry almost laughed at how timid the reporter was being, but held himself back.
"That's your job, isn't it?" he asked instead.
"Quite right, quite right." Tim cleared his throat. "Okay, so first question. Why did you want Mister Malfoy to attend this meeting?" Harry considered answering the question himself, but thought it would be better if Draco did instead. He looked to Draco, using his eyes to signal that it was his question to answer.
"Harry thought that it would be beneficial for me and might ease the anxiety going around wizard society if I cleared a few things up." Draco paused to allow Tim to write his words down in note form. "The last several articles that your paper has published involving me have been far from the truth." Tim nodded, looking somewhat contrite.
"What did you wish to clear up? I'd be glad to give you a chance to do that now." Harry couldn't tell if Tim was saying this because he genuinely meant it, or because he was terrified of being in the same room as an ex-Death Eater as well as a threatening Harry Potter.
Draco looked to Harry and it was then that Harry could see just how uncomfortable he'd been this whole time. Maybe Draco wasn't ready for this. Maybe Harry was pressuring him into something he didn't want to do. It was too late now, though. Harry offered his hand to Draco, not caring what the reporter made of it, and squeezed in what he hoped was a reassuring way.
"I'm not…" Draco looked down at his and Harry's hands. "I'm not sure now that I'm here. There was so much I was planning on saying, but I realise now that there's no point. No matter what I say people are always going to believe whatever they want to about me." Harry was shocked to hear these words coming from Draco. Something was different about him since he'd returned from the Ministry. He wasn't as snappish, he wasn't as rude or sarcastic. Harry didn't know what to make out of the change.
"So you've been brought along in the hopes to express this to society? That you're not sure?" Tim's question didn't make a whole lot of sense to Harry, but Draco seemed to understand.
"No. I suppose that the main thing I'd like to let everyone know is that I'm not dangerous. I'm not out to get Harry. We may have been rivals in school, but that was more my doing than his and it all stemmed from jealousy. I even gave Pensieve evidence to the Ministry when they arrested me that proves what I'm saying."
"What happened during your arrest, by the way? Why were you arrested in the first place?"
"It was a misunderstanding." Draco didn't show any signs of elaborating, so Tim nodded slowly.
"Have you been cleared of all charges, then?"
"I have. My memories proved that I was not guilty of tampering with Harry in any way." Tim scribbled on the parchment for a moment, then returned to his questioning.
"Then why is it that you two have become… What are you exactly?"
"Wizards," Harry said with a smirk.
"Well, yes, erm… Well, that much was clear. I only meant, er—"
"You were referring to the relationship status between myself and Draco, I'm assuming." Harry cut across the interviewer. Tim nodded. It was quite hilarious how flustered he got. "I would like it to be known that it is none of anyone else's damn business how I am associated with Draco Malfoy, and I want you to put it in the paper as exactly that, word for word." Tim nodded again, and Harry allowed him to finish writing before continuing. "I will also have it known that I am not— and I am highly sure of this— under the influence of the Imperius curse. I've been under the curse before. I know what it feels like. I've also shown the ability to resist the curse, so you can all stop worrying, thanks. Nor do I believe that I am being influenced by a love potion. I mean—" Harry paused. He didn't feel like explaining to Tim all of his feelings toward Draco in order to emphasize his point, especially not since he just told the public to butt out of his business. "I think it would be more obvious if I was."
"If I were to inquire about Mister Malfoy's arrest and interrogation, would his story be verified?"
"I could ask Grant to come and verify it if you'd like," Draco said shortly.
"And Grant is…?" Tim asked
"The Magical Law Enforcer who signed my release papers and witnessed my memories." Draco didn't wait for Tim to respond, but took his wand from his pocket. Tim flinched a bit and Harry tried not to laugh at him. "Could I borrow a piece of paper and your quill?" The uneasy reporter pulled a second roll of parchment from his pocket and rolled it across the table to Draco, then scooted the inkpot as well. Draco took the quill and unrolled the parchment, wrote a quick note, and folded the paper into an origami butterfly. Harry hadn't known that Draco could do origami, but the butterfly did look very nice and he'd folded the paper with ease. Draco flicked his wand a couple times to enchant the paper into flying, then stood up and crossed the room to the door. Being careful not to touch the wards, Draco set the butterfly free and it flew off. "She should be here soon enough," he said as he came back to the table and sat down next to Harry again.
Tim seemed more at ease, as if Draco making a paper butterfly had made him appear less threatening. Harry supposed that if Voldemort had taken the time to fold origami he would appear less terrifying as well, and the mental image that brought nearly made him laugh aloud.
"We'll wait for Grant to show up and continue the interview then," Harry told Tim. Draco slid the inkwell back to Tim, who didn't seem nearly as nervous as he had.
They all sat in silence while they waited for Grant. Harry hoped she would come, as she could be the deciding factor in how the world would see Draco after this interview. If she didn't come there wasn't much anyone could do about it, but she was the only person who had witnessed Draco's memories besides Draco himself, and her account of them would be difficult to ignore.
It took all of ten minutes for Grant to come knocking on the door. Draco watched as Harry removed the wards and called for Grant to come in, then put the wards back in place. Tim got up from his seat and went to greet Grant, offering his hand for shaking and getting no reciprocation.
"Draco," Grant said, closing the gap between them. "You asked for me?"
"Yes, I was hoping you could confirm that my Pensieve evidence cleared all suspicion of the rumour that I gave Harry a love potion, or cursed him in any way to gain his attentions." Grant nodded, but didn't move to sit down.
Looking to Tim she said, "I am the officer who witnessed Draco's memories and I can tell you with absolute certainty that Draco has not used any methods in gaining Potter's attention other than being himself." Grant paused and looked at Draco with what he thought might be a warm expression for her. "And I can also tell you that he is not the person everyone seems to think he is." Tim wrote furiously on his parchment as Grant spoke.
"Is there anything else you'd like to add about Mister Malfoy while you're here?" he asked as he finished his notes.
"No. Draco can speak for himself, I'm sure. Is that all you needed?" she asked Draco.
"That's all. Thank you," he said with a small grin. "Good afternoon, Grant."
"Good afternoon, Draco," she said. Harry took the wards down again and allowed her to exit, then put them back up as soon as the door clicked shut. Draco was sure Skeeter could've made her way in on the two occasions that the wards had been down, but if she had any sense she would not interfere.
"Does that help at all?" Draco asked smugly. He was trying not to be as uncivil as he felt like being, but when that skittish reporter had flinched as Draco had taken his wand from his pocket he had a difficult time not hating the man instantly.
"It did," Tim said as he made a small note on his parchment. As he looked back up at Draco, and then Harry, he asked, "Do you and Mister Potter plan to live together long term, or is this simply because of the Malfoy Manor being in Ministry possession?"
"I'm not sure how long I'll be staying," Draco said honestly. "I don't even know how long the manor will be seized, or if I'll be able to go back there once it's not." That was partially a lie; he knew for a fact that he wouldn't be able to go back.
"Is the rumour true that your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, has disinherited you from the family fortune?" Draco almost didn't answer the question, but he knew that word would get out eventually regardless of whether he said anything.
"It is true."
"Would you care to explain her motivations for this?"
"It's because of my sexual orientation and the way that things are developing between Harry and myself," Draco explained in clipped words. "She doesn't feel that, as a Malfoy, it's appropriate to have views that stem away from the norm. Having a lifestyle that completely veers off the 'normal' path is even more unacceptable to her."
"And do you think that there is anything you could do to win back your mother's favour?" Tim asked as he wrote.
"No." Because, really, there wasn't anything Draco could do, or would do. His mother had chosen her way of dealing with his choices and he had no interest in going back on the new life he was building if only for wealth and approval.
"Would you mind elaborating?" The reporter glanced up at Draco.
"I would mind." Tim nodded with tight lips.
"Why did Miss Magdalene Grant come to confirm your innocence? Was there some sort of deal struck between the two of you?"
"Suffice it to say that it was part of the misunderstanding I mentioned before." He was not about to make a scene out of his arrest, not after he'd told Grant that he wouldn't press charges. Talking about what happened wasn't the same, obviously, but it would lead to much unwanted attention towards the Ministry, which could agitate DMLE. This was something Draco neither wanted, nor needed.
"They arrested him on false claims put into the public by your newspaper," Harry said in a cutting way. Well, the cat was out of the bag. "Because of this false information Draco was forced to spend three days in almost solitary confinement, forced to undergo interrogation, and was slapped by one of the guards. It only takes adding two and two in order to understand what happened. Draco was innocent and there was no solid proof behind his arrest. If he chose to, he could wreak havoc on the Ministry employees who had anything to do with this, and Rita Skeeter, but he's not the type of person who would do that." Draco thought, when he took a moment to continue, Harry was finished. This was not the case. "That's something your news paper can't seem to grasp and I think it's time that it ends. Are you writing any of this down?" Tim was staring at Harry with an open mouth, not writing at all.
"Oh! Yes, my apologies." Tim inked his quill and set it to the parchment, writing small notes about what Harry had said. When he'd finished, he directed his next question to Harry. "You seem rather upset by all of this. Why is that?"
"Draco has become one of my only real friends in recent times. Believe it or not, I care about what happens to him and I care about the fact that he's being bullied, along with myself, by full grown adults who should know better. He's not some form of entertainment, he's a person."
If he wasn't in front of a reporter, Draco would kiss Harry. He'd called him one of his only real friends, and that meant more to Draco than he could express. Needless to say, Draco had felt incredibly lonely ever since the war. Being sent to Azkaban had distanced the people he'd thought were friends from him. The fact that his parents gave names of other Death Eaters had ensured that he had no friends. Harry had been somewhat of a silver lining to his grey cloud and his statement that they were friends reinforced that.
"You two seem to have gotten very close, then," Tim said. "Do you think that things will get easier for the two of you after this interview?"
"I certainly hope so," Harry said with a dry laugh. "But then, people are so quick to believe bad things about others that it could also make things worse. I guess we'll see."
Looking at Draco, Tim asked, "What do you plan to do, now that you are no longer the Malfoy heir? How do you intend to support yourself?"
"Well, everyone seems to not want me in their businesses, I highly doubt they'd want me working for them. I'd like to do something musically, but my hopes for that have been put on hold as well." Tim looked surprised at Draco's answer.
"And why is that?" he asked.
"My cello is not in my possession any more and I can't really afford to buy a new one at this time. With the prospects for jobs low and my funds dwindling, there's not much I can do about it."
"Is Mister Potter supporting you at this moment, then?"
"It's a temporary situation, but yes," Harry said. "He'll get back on his feet in time." Tim nodded and wrote several short notes on his half-full parchment.
"Do you resent your mother, Mister Malfoy, for disowning you?" Draco wasn't sure what to say to that. His mother would read this paper, surely, and if he spoke badly of her it would only make her more apt to make his and Harry's lives worse.
"Resent her? No, not exactly," he said eventually. "I think that she's made a rash decision based on emotion and archaic views, but I knew that something like this could happen eventually."
"You did?" Tim asked as he wrote. "How did you know?"
"I've known about my sexuality for a while now, though I did my best to keep it hidden. With the way I was raised I knew that it wasn't acceptable for me to have love interests that weren't female, but I couldn't seem to force myself to go along with that."
"Are you suggesting that sexual attraction is not a choice?" The way he asked it didn't sound as though he disagreed, but Draco still scoffed.
"I know that it isn't. Believe me, if I could've chosen to be hetero I would've done so years ago. I lost my parents, my family's approval, and any hope of being financially stable in the near future. I wouldn't change anything now, but if I'd had the choice when I discovered that I liked blokes I would've chosen the easier path."
"So you think it's easier to be heterosexual?" His question held judgement and Draco tried his very best to stay calm.
"Well… yeah. Isn't it obvious? Nobody gets disowned for being physically attracted to the opposite sex. Nobody gets their lives ripped out from under them simply for being the way society thinks they should be. It's become more socially acceptable to be a spinster than to marry for love, so long as that love is the same sex as you. Not to mention the laws restricting people like me."
"In muggle society some places won't even hire you if they've found out you're not straight, or they'll fire you," Harry added. "I was raised by muggles and I can't tell you how many times I heard my aunt and uncle bashing gays. That was pretty common, too, not just in our household."
"That's very interesting, and similar to our laws," Tim said genuinely. His brows were furrowed, and he looked somewhat sheepish, as though he were feeling guilty for some reason. "Do you think that, should you two become a couple━if you aren't already━that you'll offer hope to those who are still struggling to come to terms with their own sexual preferences?"
"I'm not sure we'll offer hope. Maybe if people can accept Draco and I then they'll have an easier time accepting other people in our community who aren't heterosexual," Harry said thoughtfully.
"And that's a good start," Draco added, "But it doesn't fix the problem. Same-sex marriage is still illegal, even though there's no reason for it. Enough magical people are born every year from pureblood and muggle families alike that same-sex marriage wouldn't put a stop to the growth of our society. There's no excuse."
"Do you think it would benefit wizard society to accept same-sex relationships? How would we even go about doing that?"
"I think it would, and it would have to start in our own homes, in the way we teach our children to view people and things that are different," Draco said. "It would be a huge step forward if same-sex marriage were legalized, but who can tell when or if that'll ever happen?"
Tim wrote for a while, then sat and thought for just as long. After what seemed like a full three minutes, he looked to Harry. "When did you discover that you were… having thoughts of men? There are reports of you having dated one Ginevra Weasley for quite some time. What happened there?" Draco could feel Harry tense beside him. This was a touchy subject for him and Draco thought that perhaps this was because he'd only recently discovered that he wasn't straight.
"It was a little less than a month ago," he admitted. "There weren't many signs that pointed to that, but then again during most of my childhood and adolescence I've had the threat of death or genocide hung over my head. Doesn't leave much time for romance." Harry paused and it looked like he was gathering his thoughts. "With Ginny everything started out so great. She was the promise of a normal life, she was one of the only people who didn't fawn over me for being who I am, and she wasn't like any other girl I'd met before. It wasn't until after the war that I started to realise that I didn't feel that way about her anymore. I started wondering if my feelings for her were based on truth or if they were based on what I thought I needed to do and what everyone expected."
"And how did that play out?"
"I don't really feel like it's anyone's business what happened between Ginny and I," Harry said, sounding a bit tense.
"That's quite alright," Tim said, jotting several things down. His parchment was nearly full now and Draco thought that the their hour must've been getting close. "I have one more question for you two before you go."
"What's that?" Harry asked.
"Could I get a picture of the two of you, or would that be overstepping my boundaries?" Draco and Harry looked at each other, shrugged simultaneously, then nodded to Tim. "Excellent! Very good." He pulled a camera from beneath the table and used a cloth from his pocket to clean the lense. Tim focused the lense on them and right after the light flashed, Harry reached over and took Draco's hand. Draco smiled at the camera, but he could feel Harry smiling at him.
As they left the Ministry, having to wade through a crowd of reporters who had found out about their meeting, Draco thought about his mother's reaction to the article that would be published by the next morning. He hoped that she would see how happy he was, how happy Harry made him, and that it would change her mind about him. He hoped, but he didn't give that hope fuel.