Interview with a Savior

3 months earlier…

Harry grinned easily at the frazzled Hermione and ran a lazy finger through his hair. He was propped up on an armchair, while Hermione was pacing rapidly back and forth in front of him going over her long list of advice and reassurances for the press conference that was to be in a few minutes.

"…they will probably ask you something about the final battle, but Harry if you don't want to talk about it then you just smile and ask for the next question. It is a polite and sure-fire way to get out of anything. Be firm but don't lose your temper. Oh and they will probably ask you something about what you think about ministry policy at the moment. The most important policies I would hit are the…"

"Hermione," Harry cut her off, "I will be fine."

"But-"

Harry smiled at the frown of worry that immediately creased her features. She'd been married to Ron for a scant six months, and in that time she had become more like Mrs. Weasley than Harry would ever care to say (to her face at least) as long as he valued his health.

"I am no longer eighteen and freaked out of my mind by the attention. It will be alright."

"Mr. Potter, the press is ready for you now," said a timid man that peeked his head around the door.

"Of course. I'll be there in a moment." Harry said with a smile.

Hermione watched with exasperated affection as the young man who had come to get Harry blushed to the routes of his hair. Harry had no idea the sort of affect that he had on people. All he had to do was smile and everyone around him melted, guys and girls alike.

"Alright, well just remember…"

Harry paused just before he disappeared around the door, "I will be fine."

Walking out into the hall, Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair before taking that final step out into the publicity frenzy. For all his bravado in front of Hermione, Harry still felt awkward in front of all those people. Gritting his teeth, then bursting out into a smile Harry stepped into the lights of the press conference. Taking his place at a chair on a small platform, Harry made himself comfortable. Nodding to the entire room, Harry amplified his voice with a neat flick of his wand.

"Hello, it is good to have you all here today. Let's see…let's start with Mr. Gringy from Wizard Weekly."

"Well Mr. Potter I'm sure that everyone would like to know you position on the new Ministry bills calling for harsher punishment for former Death Eaters and those suspected of Death Eater activity during the recent war. I would assume that as the man who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named you would be supportive of these laws."

Harry grinned like a cat in the cream. An easy one to start with…

"Well, to be honest, that is a completely incorrect assumption." That comment caused the entire crowd to suddenly snap to eager attention.

"I think that these laws are cruel and unusual. There is no reason that we should try and still up animosity so long after a truce has been called. There are many reasons that people supported Voldemort. Some of those witches and wizards were truly evil, but some of them were scared, some of them had families that were being held hostage. I know that there are many people out there who sacrificed for this war. I can sympathize with that. I lost many great friends and loved ones, but I have to keep remembering that that was their choice. They decided to risk themselves for something that they believed in.

"On the other side of that choice is the decision to protect one's family. Many Death Eaters were blackmailed with the safety of those they loved. I think that those people proposing those laws need to think about what they would have done if someone held a wand to the throat of their parents or siblings or friends. I have to ask myself what might have happened if Voldemort had left me with a family to defend. And if they are the type of people that would just let them die, then I'm not sure we should trust them. I have to ask myself what might have happened if Voldemort had left me with a family to defend."

It is time to put the past behind us. By dignifying this sort of brutality we are allowing the principles that Voldemort himself would have supported. As the winners in this conflict, we are the ones who have to set an example of tolerance. Thank you."

There was silence as the pressroom took in what the great Harry Potter had just said. There was frantic scribbling as many wizards tried to get the story word for word.

"…Er…I know that you all feel strongly about that particular subject but are there any other questions?"

Harry involuntarily leaned back as a barrage of questions simultaneously burst upon him.

~*~

Two hours later, Harry's voice was starting to get hoarse, but he was still struggling gamely on. Finally, looking over at Hermione he gave the signal that he was almost done. She nodded but before she could step up, the correspondent from Teen Witches got in one question.

"Harry! Why did things not work out with your ex-girlfriend Ginny?"

Harry looked at the tiny witch in surprise. He hadn't really expected any questions about Ginny. He'd thought that that was old news. It was perhaps due to his shock that he just blurted out the first thing that came into his head.

"She wasn't a boy."

Hermione took the moment of surprised silence, the second of the press conference, to step out and state that Harry would not be answering any more questions.

Harry took the moment to sneak out, hailed by a cascade of desperate questions.

~*~

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes as Harry Potter's image once again popped up on the wizarding news. He was tired of having to look at boy wonder's face all the time. Couldn't he stop acting like such a prima donna? That was Draco's territory.

However when Gringly, that snot, popped the big question, Draco just had to tune in to hear what drivel the Boy Wonder had to say. Draco of course did retain some respect for Harry Potter. Who wouldn't after the powerful display of magic he had performed to get rid of Voldemort? Draco could respect power, and no one could claim that Harry Potter lacked power.

"…Well, to be honest, that is a completely incorrect assumption…"

Draco stopped debating the merits of Potter's exponential magical abilities to snap his head back around to the news.

Did Harry Potter just…?

Draco watched in amazement as Harry went on. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as Draco thought. Making himself comfortable, Draco sat back and called a house elf to bring him a bottle of red wine. This was going to be interesting.

The next two hours of the press conference were highly entertaining for Draco. If nothing else Potter was something to look at. Draco hadn't honestly thought much of him when they were in school together, but the years had been good to the man. Harry finally seemed to fill his own shoes and certainly his own body. It was such an utter shame that Harry wasn't into…

"…She wasn't a boy…"

Draco was once again snapped out of his reverie by something Potter had said. It wasn't possible. A delighted smile curved over Draco's face. There was no way that his luck was this good. The fireplace to his right roared to life with green flames. The shocked face of Pansy Parkinson appeared through and immediately exclaimed.

"Draco please tell me that you were just watching the news."

"Yes Pansy, I was."

"Did you just hear what Boy Wonder said?"

"Well I did watch most of the interview. Which part are you rather shrilly yammering on about?"

"Draco Malfoy, you will stop being a twat right now."

Draco rolled his eyes, "yes, I heard. I'm just very slightly surprised I will deign to admit. Anyways Pansy, I suddenly find that I have somewhere I need to be."

"You are so going to go hit on Harry Potter."

Draco smiled evilly, "Oh, I would say that precisely, but something like that."

~*~

"Dude! That was awesome!" Ron said as he greeted Harry and Ron at a small café.

"Thanks man," Harry said, rubbing his hair awkwardly.

"Yeah, thanks Harry. No, 'Ginny is a great girl, but it just wasn't love' or 'Ginny is a fabulous goddess and deserves more than me'. Sheesh!"

Both Hermoine and Ginny giggled at the horrified look that passed over Harry's face before he saw the twinkle of mirth in Ginny's eye.

"Not cool Ginny. You know that I feel bad about the whole thing." Harry said sheepishly.

"Harry, I have told you for like forever. It is no big deal. Mom was heart-broken though. She always wanted you to be a part of the family….then again, you could always marry Percy. He's still single."

"You are a cruel, horrid woman for putting that image in my head," Harry glared at Ginny who just laughed merrily.

"What I want to know is what possessed you Harry?"

Harry looked down right sheepish as he responded, "Well to be honest, I just said the first time that came to my mind. I didn't really think that anybody cared about Ginny and me anymore."

Hermione just shook her head in a look that clearly said: Have I taught you nothing?

Harry smiled cheekily, "It's alright, Hermione, I suppose I had to come out sometime. Anyways, barring my rather surprising press interview, what else is happening?"

~*~

Draco popped into existence outside the stunning façade of the Grey Dragon, one of the most exclusive restaurants in Wizarding England and the current location of one Harry Potter. It also happened to be one of the many businesses funded and run by the Malfoy empire. And as so very little of that family remained that basically translated as: it was Draco's.

Settling his robes with an expert flick, Draco walked the remaining distance to the door. The footmen recognized him immediately and sent for the headwaiter.

"Mr. Malfoy," the professionally obsequious man bowed low, "we are pleasantly surprised that you're blessing us with your presence tonight. May I take you too your normal table?"

"No thank you," Draco vaguely scrabbled for the man's name but decided it didn't really matter that much, "prepare it, however, and I would like my usual waiting for me. I'm going to say hello to an old school fellow."

Draco's eyes drifted dangerously towards Potter's table. There was a gleam in his eye that said very distinctly that the Malfoy was plotting. In actuality, Malfoys were always plotting, but when they let you know about it, things were about to get fairly dangerous for all involved.

The headwaiter cast a brief pitying glance to the target and prayed that the owner wasn't about to irrevocable destroy the restaurants flawless rating by dueling in the middle of the dining hall.

Dismissing all thoughts of whatever minion he'd just been talking to, Draco strolled towards Harry's table. Of course, being himself, this stroll was round about and included many stops to speak a few words to friends and clients. If a Slytherin ever did anything, it was never in a straight line.

By the time he reached Potter's table, the group was just rising to leave. Potter was smiling at something that Weasley said, while the other two, Granger and the Wealette looked on in disgust. Malfoy paused a moment to admire the Boy-Who-Lived. Now that he wasn't slouching around in clothing five sizes too big like some sullen reprobate, he was actually rather dashing. With a smile like that, he might even meet the Malfoy standard. (If Draco had decided to be completely honest in that moment, something he avoided like the plague, he would have had to concede that in the looks department Harry more than qualified for the almost impossible to achieve Malfoy seal of approval). At this moment, he was noticed approaching, and the foursome went suddenly quiet.

Draco was not surprised; he was of course a suitably interesting presence.

As if aware of the conspicuous silence all of the sudden, Hermione made a polite sort of coughing noise. To break the tension. Of course.

"Potter, how good to see you after all this time." Draco said smoothly as if the last time he and Potter had chatted had been at their Hogwarts graduation over some celebratory cake by the Womping Willow. Because he was a Malfoy, Draco could ignore the fact that the last time the two of them had chatted – if they could ever have been considered to chat – was when Draco was passing on a tidbit of vital Death Eater intelligence or so. Practically the same thing for Draco's purpose.

"I was coming to invite you - " and with great concession to what would probably make Harry the happiest and therefore most malleable " –and your lovely party to dine with me. Catch up on old times. It seems like we just missed each other…"

His immediate audience was immobile and mute. The other audience, the rest of the restaurant, was by no means mute and was gossiping for all they were worth. Hermione was too busy examining Draco for signs of the Imperius Curse to be polite, Ron was just plain stupefied, and Ginny was watching it all like a cat in the cream.

Harry just looked on warily. He was smart enough to know that it wasn't a good sign when Draco was present. He could cite multiple pieces of evidence from past experiences - in his case nothing good ever seemed to happen when Draco was present. The smile on Draco's face was even more disturbing: that meant that he had been plotting. Harry was a little shocked at the ability he had to read Draco's moods, but then again after fighting with the git for seven years Harry supposed that it wasn't surprising that he recognized some things about Draco – especially warning signs.

"But, Potter, if your friends can spare you, I would love to hear more about that press conference of yours over after dinner drinks."

The silence stretched on. The only change was that Ginny looked like a cat in the cream with promises of more. Her look said you want to get our handsome boy wonder alone for drinks do you? And what else…

Touche. Draco thought as he stared on pleasantly through the awkward pause. Though, she probably just thinks that I want to hit on him.

"Actually, I have a few things to discuss with you as well," Harry broke the silence to his companions amazement, regaining some of his new found ease. "You won't mind going on without me?" He asked his friends, following Draco without leaving room for response.

The amazement persisted, but it was the power of Harry's personality that got his three friends into the coats and out the door before they'd totally regained coherent thought.

"What can I do for you Mr. Malfoy?" Harry said calmly, taking a seat and reminding himself that an entire press conference of good intentions would go to hell if he was seen dueling with a very prominent Pureblood. A few years ago he might have lost his temper, but at this point in Harry's life he had miraculously found the key to keeping his anger from running his mind or his mouth. It was not a complete cure but it did save him from about twenty-five percent of the embarrassing situations he always seemed to be falling in. He'd be damned if Draco did just make him wand happy just by being around though.

"Well Potter," Draco started in his trade mark drawl, "I just loved that recent press conference you did so much that I thought I would drop in and tell you so myself."

"Really?" Harry commented trying to act like the situation was completely normal (not) as he accepted a crystal glass from Draco, setting it down untested. "I rather liked it myself to tell the truth."

"It was very personally interesting to me, I have to say." Draco was leading. He only hoped that Potter could follow.

"Being a Pureblood, I would assume," Harry replied guardedly. He wasn't sure where this conversation was going, and he didn't want to commit to anything before he did.

If anything Draco's smirk only deepened. Bingo. "Well, I was talking about your sexual preference," Draco paused just long enough to draw that flaming Gryfindor red blush before continuing, "But if we must, I never knew that you felt so strongly about Mudblood-Pureblood relations."

Damn it. Harry remembered at that moment that despite being able to control his temper, he couldn't do a thing about that damnable blush. Best to ignore it. So…

Harry leveled a stare at Draco that was worthy of the slice of Slytherin the Sorting Hat had detected, "I would recommend not using words that you know will deliberately provoke me. However, in response, I think that we're both big enough boys to recognize the damage that is being done by the aftermath of this war. It has the potential to do comparable damage to that of the war."

"Comparable? My, my, Potter, your vocabulary had improved."

Harry leaned back tiredly into his chair. "It's not funny. You of all people should know that."

"Do you think that I don't, Potter?" Malfoy asked his voice suddenly icy serious, "The social ramifications, if you want to use fancy language, are enormous. No one knows who's about to do what. The ministry is suggesting ever increasing barbaric tortures for not confirmed but suspected Death Eaters. Everyone is still afraid, and most people are deciding that their fear is a grand excuse to start hating Purebloods and the like. I don't know what you've heard, but it's not a far cry from when people will be asking for our heads instead of harsher and harsher jail sentences."

Neither of the two said anything for a long time.

"So we're royally fucked then, yes?" Harry said tiredly.

"Sure, Potter."

"I won't fight another war," Harry said quietly after a time and without much thought downed the glass of whatever Draco had handed him. "I can't."

Draco let his fingers steeple before he responded. "That is actually the reason that I decided to grace you with my presence."

"Agh, the truth comes out," Harry muttered. Draco looked at Harry incredulously. The man was obviously on the edge of a mental break, but as Draco was about to announce something insane this fact could only work in his benefit.

"You know, us Purebloods have a way of dealing with conflicts like this."

"And what is that?" Harry said to the floor.

"They marry each other," Draco responded calmly.