It was on the day before Harry's thirtieth birthday that Draco started his new job, as the Head Potioneer of the British Auror Office. The Daily Prophet dedicated an entire two page spread to the occasion, which included the official declaration from the head of the BAO - that would be Ron - and an in-depth profile of Draco. Harry dived right in, newspaper spread over half his kitchen island.

We are delighted to announce that the British Auror Office will officially welcome Draco Brunet, formerly Malfoy, as the new Head Potioneer, following his resignation from the French Ministry last week. He is set to start on 30 July, for an indeterminate period.

The short text was accompanied by a picture of Ron and Draco shaking hands in an office, both smiling from ear to ear. Harry took a big bite out of his toast and started reading the profile, entitled Riches to rags and back to riches .

Draco Brunet, born Malfoy, has had a very interesting life, to say the least. Born in a very old, Pure Blood family, he was raised to became the heir of the Malfoy fortune, which was tied to many of the most profitable Wizarding businesses (from Quidditch brooms to Floo Powder, just to name a few) and was estimated to have reached more than a billion galleons two years before the War. His father, Lucius Malfoy, was known for his deep pockets and the political alliances he bought with them.

The decline of one of the most powerful and rich wizarding families started with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's adhesion to the terrorist group known as Death Eaters, as very close allies to Tom Riddle (better known as Voldemort), which eventually lead to their arrest, incarceration and untimely death. As for Draco, he followed in his parent's footsteps, "accepting the Dark Mark" at the age of 16, while in his sixth year at Hogwarts. Following direct orders from Riddle, he unsuccessfully attempted multiple times to kill Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the leader of the anti-Riddle movement, and ended up injuring two incidental victims (one of them being Ron Weasley, the current head of the BAO and his new boss). He also bewitched an ancient piece of furniture, which allowed a group of terrorists to enter the premises of the castle and murder the initial target. For all of this he was judged in one of Britain's most infamous trials, which lasted for over one year and remains to this day a source of heated debate between wizards all around the world.

Malfoy actually plead guilty to treason, terrorism, and attempted murder, for which he was initially sentenced to 10 years in Azkaban, a very harsh sentence when taking into consideration that nobody actually suffered lasting damage due to his actions (turns out Dumbledore had actually timed his death to that moment) and his age at the time. The decision was successfully appealed by Malfoy's legal team, and his sentence was reduced to 12 months (which he had already served awaiting trial), with the possibility to be released on parole (which, in the case of criminal trials, means that the accused is stripped of their powers for the whole duration). The reason behind the infamy of this trial is the remarkably long period of parole, which, at 15 years, remains unique in the history of our country. Many find it to go against basic wizard rights, while others find it not only cruel, but unjust. A vocal minority believe Malfoy plead guilty because of external pressure (he had been in custody for over 13 months until he finally plead guilty); his plea made is so that the strongest argument brought for his case, Harry Potter's testimony of his refusal to kill Dumbledore when given the chance, was unusable. And finally, many make the argument that he had extenuating circumstances, such as the fact that he had not joined the terrorist group as an adult fully aware of his actions, but as the child of two existing members and under extreme duress, as threats against his life and that of his parents had been issued repeatedly at the time. As Malfoy himself has never appealed the sentence, all of these remain speculative arguments.

Three months after his release, while he was allegedly looking for work on Diagon Alley, he was attacked by a group of seven wizards, proclaiming revenge for his acts and the acts of other Death Eaters. Unable to protect himself, he was eventually saved by a bystander, but only after suffering life threatening injuries. This was at a time when public opinion was almost unequivocally against him, as a result of the political climate in which defending a Marked person was akin to political suicide.

After that tragic incident, the public lost track of Draco Malfoy for around six years. Later revelations unearthed that, following his release from St. Mungo's, he fled to Edinburgh, and then to Dublin. In Dublin, records have been found that appear to indicate he was homeless, or at least sleeping in homeless shelters, for the better part of a year, until he was picked up by muggle social services, given social housing and started working service jobs. It was around this time that his parents committed suicide in prison, after managing to steal a guard's wand. It is unknown when Malfoy became aware of the death of his parents.

At the age of 20, seemingly having integrated muggle society successfully, he came back to London. He passed the muggle A levels in a suburb of London, and then applied for a scholarship to University X. He was refused the first year, but accepted at the age of 21. He graduated top of his class three years later. He also passed his NEWTS at Durmstrang during this time, presumably with the aid of some of his father's old friends. He made a sudden reappearance when he requested permission to leave the country, and eventually moved to France at the age of 24. Since he was not a known figure there, he was able to reintegrate the wizarding community.

Again, little is known of this period, but what is clear is that Malfoy used his muggle studies to pursue a very strategic apprenticeship in Alfonso Fenouillet's research lab, which was the Head Potionner of the French ministry at the time, and who is best known for the experimental research he conducted at his eponymous Muggle-Wizard staffed laboratory. After only six months, he was hired as Fenouillet's first assistant, and started helping the master with his ministry job. When Fenouillet retired, three years later, Draco was appointed Head Potionner, the youngest person to ever hold that office in the history of France, a feat only made more impressive by the fact that he is not able to actively perform any magic (sources indicate that he has an assistant performing all the necessary magic spells, while he concentrates on brewing, but this rumour has never been confirmed).

Readers of this journal may remember the immediate response of the British Press, who found his appointment at such a high level a national affront. But the French stuck with their decision, defending their choice by issuing a rather acidic press release which stated, among other things, that they base their hiring decisions on skill levels and current morals, not the applicant's parents' political views, referencing a century old debate between the two countries' different approaches to political debate. They also implied that Britain should better focus its efforts on finding their own Head Potioneer and stop asking France for expert advice any time they needed it, thus revealing to the public (and to the BAO itself) they've actually been benefiting from Malfoy's skills, as Fenouillet apparently spent all of his time in his research lab in the last years of career, and let Draco handle everything else. The British press was not happy with that response (see issue no. 67850).

However, that marked the starting point of a shift in opinions. A new generation of wizards, who did not carry the same bitterness as their parents for anybody that was associated with Riddle, were discovering his story and the old debate about his sentence was rekindled. Furthermore, the revelations of the hardships he had endured following his sentence only strengthened the public's growing support for the former Death Eater. More and more voices, young and old, including public defender Hermione Granger, published opinion pieces defending Malfoy or, alternatively, blaming his prosecutors and shaming the BAO for not seizing the opportunity to hire a British citizen who is obviously a potions prodigy, instead pushing him to go work for another country's Ministry (for why this post is notoriously hard to fill, and is more often vacant than filled, see issue no. 36720).

Since then, publication and readership trends have consistently shown the public's opinion shifting dramatically in Malfoy's favour, especially after his wedding to muggle-born Healer Camille Brunet, son of France's current muggle Ministry of Health, Jean-Pierre Brunet. So it should come as a surprise to nobody that, only three years after throwing a hissy fit because another county dared to offer him a job, Britain is now rejoicing the return of the Malfoy heir to the island as the new Head Potionner of the BAO. The Brunets arrived in London yesterday afternoon, at St. Pancras Station, looking very fashionable. The young couple tied the knot two years ago, in a private event held at Brunet's family's chateau. Although Malfoy's French salary was never disclosed, their combined wealth is estimated to be in the high six figures.

A picture of Draco and his husband on the train platform, surrounded by reporters, accompanied the text. After glancing at Draco's husband for a second, Harry closed the paper. Nothing he'd read was necessarily new to him, all of these things had been said in the press before, and repeated to death in the last few weeks. Looking at his watch and realizing he had to get going, he wondered what would happen if he would call in sick.

Don't be ridiculous.

It's not that he minded Draco starting to work at the BAO. He knew, and appreciated, how much Ron had worked to get that to happen - God knows Draco had been a princess about it, refusing Ron a total of 6 times before finally accepting the job. He was happy the position was filled, they'd been slowed down way too many times because they didn't have a potioneer on site. He was also happy because Draco did seem very talented, which was great for the department. He just wasn't happy about having to actually see him. Which was a very normal thing to feel, at least according to his therapist, whose words he repeated to himself on the way to work, like a prayer.

Once there, he found the whole office in a festive mood. A lot of the new Aurors were really excited about meeting Draco, since the papers had made such a big deal about it. The old ones were not necessarily excited about Draco, just about the fact that something was happening: July was always a quiet month. He was almost in his office when the door to Ron's office opened and he emerged triumphantly, closely followed by Draco himself. Harry's hand froze on the handle.

"And here he is, ladies and gentleman, our very own potioneer!"

The whole open space erupted into applause and cheering - which, to be fair, they did for every new recruit. But Ron just had a way of getting people to cheer louder than anybody else when he wanted to.

"That's right, people! That's how it's done!"

Ron then dragged a slightly pink version of Draco next to him, in view of everybody.

"Uhm, hi, everyone! I'm also very happy to be, uhm, here."

Hands in pockets, shoulders slightly raised, Draco appeared the perfect combination of nervous and at ease. Harry realized he was staring, so he quickly adjusted his posture and looked at Ron instead.

"OK, time to meet everybody!"

And before Harry could even prepare himself, Ron turned to the next person on his left, which was himself.

"Well, you know Harry," he waved, as if bored to see Harry there.

Draco smiled at him.

"Hi, Harry, it's good to see you."

"Likewise, Draco."

And they shook hands. It had been that easy. Ron was already dragging Draco away.

"Here we have Felix, he's our newest recruit, fresh from the Academy, but he's just amazing, you'll see!"

"Thank you so much, sir!" Felix squeaked. Everybody adored Ron.

He waited a few more minutes, smiling politely at his colleagues, so as to not appear too eager to leave, then managed to quietly slide in his office when he felt the appropriate time had passed. Maybe twenty minutes or so later the murmur outside his doors had finally dimmed down. So, Harry told himself, this was the new normal, then. Draco Malfoy, just a few doors down from him. Well, time to get used to it.

But that just didn't seem to happen. When he went to ask Ron a question and found his office empty, he headed to the meeting room immediately, thinking that's where he'd most likely be. But on the way there he was distracted by the sound of laughter coming from what he knew was Draco's new office. Through the wide open door he could just make out Draco hunched over a steaming cauldron. Behind him, surrounded by fumes, Ron was saying something with big hand gestures, sitting comfortably on Draco's desk. Whatever Ron was saying with such pathos, Draco obviously found very amusing.

Harry was taken aback by this unexpected display of friendship. When did this happen? He knew Ron's been in Paris many times, and of those many times, sometimes he'd met with Draco. But at this point?

What was wrong with him? He was jealous of Draco being friendly with Ron? He was gone before one of them could catch him in that shameful position, and answered the question he wanted to ask Ron by simply not doing the report.

Next, he left to get lunch early in order to avoid bumping into Draco, only to bump into Draco in front of the Apparition Room. He smiled awkwardly at him and then Apparated out of there before Draco had the time to say hello.

And then finally, at the end of day, Ron marched into his office.

"We're going for drinks, you coming?"

Harry assumed we included Draco.

"No, thanks, I'm tired."

Ron looked at him piercingly.

"Tired? What did you even do today, it's dead around here."

"Well, doing nothing is sometimes very tiring."

"Whatever, suit yourself, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow anyway. Wouldn't want to see you too much anyways."

Tomorrow was Harry's birthday, which was to be celebrated over lunch at the Weasley's, with immediate family only.

"There you go."

And as he exited his office, he heard Ron screaming Draco's name and simultaneously broke the tip of the quill he was using to write down his to-do list for next week.

His birthday lunch was going very well, until Ron said:

"So, Draco and Camille are coming over for dinner on Tuesday, and Hermione and I would love it if you came as well."

"Me? Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Because we're friends? And friends go to their friends' dinner parties?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was a matter of fulfilling my dinner party quota," Harry said, laughing.

"Well, it most definitely is," Ron replied, partly joking, partly dead serious. "So, it's settled then?"

"No, I don't want to come to that!"

"So then, you really are avoiding Draco?"

"No, I'm not, I just don't want to come to your stupid dinner party!"

"Because Draco thinks you're avoiding him."

"He said that?"

"What?"

"He told you, Ron, that he thinks I, Harry, am avoiding him?"

"No. I mean, yes, I guess. He asked me at the bar if I thought you were avoiding him."

"And what did you say?"

"Will you quit acting like a teenager? What is this? Just come to dinner!"

"I'm not coming to dinner with two married couples!"

"OK, come with a date, I don't care."

"Oh, cause that's not even more pathetic than coming alone, coming with a random stranger."

"Fine, I'll ask Ginny if she's free! Happy?"

"No!"

He saw Ron opening his mouth to call Hermione over.

"Fine! Jesus!"

"Perfect!"

And so, after two days in which working in close proximity to Draco didn't make things even slightly less awkward for Harry, he had to unstick himself from the sofa, get dressed in something halfway decent - but not too decent, lest he appeared as if he cared too much -, and Apparate in front of Ron and Hermione's apartment. He had arrived, despite his best efforts, before Draco and Camille. At least Ginny was already there.

The table was beautifully set.

"I think we're waiting for the Minister himself," Ginny said behind Ron's back.

Harry let himself laugh.

"This is what being married does to you, I guess," Harry offered.

"Oh, my apologies, should we go over to the couch and serve you crisps instead? Would that be more appropriate for you, since you're so young and chill and cool?"

Before Ginny could retort, the doorbell rang. Harry heard Hermione greeting the new guests, and then watched in awe as the most beautiful couple he'd ever seen entered the room, cheeks red from the five floors walk up, bottle of wine in one hand, bouquet of flowers in the other. They definitely fit in with the beautifully set table better than him.

"Oh, Mon Dieu," Camille exclaimed when he saw Harry and Ginny in the living room, "I can't believe I'm meeting two celebrities tonight!"

Draco told him something in rapid fire French, looking very amused. Harry definitely did not feel like the celebrity in that instant.

"Such an honour to meet you, 'Arry!"

Harry shook his hand, feeling - as always - unworthy of such enthusiasm.

"Yes, me too!"

Then Camille went on to offer his bouquet to Ginny and congratulate her for the latest win of the season, which had been spectacular.

Draco had already sat down across from Harry, having given his bouquet to Hermione.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hi!" Harry replied, just a bit too high pitched for comfort.

During the first course, it struck Harry that for how much Ron had insisted he come, it didn't seem like he would have been missed had he disobeyed. Camille appeared very familiar with Ron and Hermione, as he asked them specific questions about both of their jobs. They were equally familiar with his practice, as at some point Hermione referenced one of his patients by their surname.

"Oh, Giselle, she is better, thank you."

After that whole thing was over, Camille started questioning Ginny about all things quidditch related, while Draco entered into a debate with Hermione and Ron about the quality of food in France versus the UK. After they'd finished the second course, and Harry had barely spoken, the conversation turned to Draco's new living situation. Ginny was conducting the questioning this time.

"I'm actually staying at a hotel for now, until we decide where to buy. Camille's father has some properties here, but we don't want to impose so… We're thinking of SoHo, but we're not sure yet," he ended thoughtfully.

Hearing his nonchalant tone when talking about million pound investments, calling houses "properties", and seeing him dressed in pristine, trendy clothes, Harry couldn't help but remember his cupboard-sized room, at the end of the metro line, and the shabby coat that he used to wear everywhere. He hadn't realized that Draco's financial situation had been quite as dire as it had later been revealed to him to have been. At the time, he had actually enjoyed how cozy his apartment was, and he hadn't paid any mind to Draco's clothes, as his were still just as shabby. It was just dawning on Harry how Draco might have experienced those things back then as horrible, and how well he fit in with someone who seemed to know the correct order in which to use all the cutlery Hermione had set at the table. Which he definitely did not.

"Then you'd be Ron's neighbours!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Yes, that's the plan," Draco confirmed, to Harry's annoyance.

"So, Camille, did you move to London too, or how does this work?"

"Indeed, it is compliqué, " he said while laughing. "Not yet, because I… comment dire … my patients, I cannot leave them so suddenly. So, for now, I will come visit. Now I'm on holiday, I go back to Paris on Sunday."

"Oh, wow, so this move was quite the sacrifice, then?" Ginny said, with her habitual ease of asking personal questions as if it was the most natural thing.

Draco and Ron both opened their mouths to answer, but Camille cut them both off.

"No! I told Draco to just accept the job! It was ridicule. It's 'ere that he needs to be, 'ome. And I can come visit when I want."

Ron was looking at Camille as if he wanted to kiss him.

"So, how has it been, being back home?" Hermione asked.

Draco smiled in a way in which Harry had never seen him smile before; completely, openly, lightly.

"It's been great so far."

And then, suddenly becoming very serious, he turned to Ron:

"And it's all because of you, Ron. I'll never be able to repay you for the work you've done to get the ministry to even offer me this post, and for your insistence in the face of my anxieties and…"

"Enough, you'll make me blush," Ron said, waving his hands, visibly touched.

"I think he did it more for himself than for you," Hermione added, teasingly, and everybody burst into laughter.

Harry had completely missed the part of the story in which all of them had become, not just friendly, but friends . He was aware he had never shown too much interest in their relationship with Draco, but was appalled all the same by them skimming over this development.

"A toast, then! For coming back home!" said Ron while raising his glass.

And then, inevitably, like it happened every time, somebody tried to pour Harry a glass of wine to toast with. This time it was Camille, of course .

"No, thanks!" he tried to say discreetly.

"Oh, do you prefer the white? You should try this one too, it's very good wine, from Bourgogne. "

"Yes, I'm sure it is, I just - er…"

"Harry doesn't drink anymore," Hermione said matter-of-factly, offering her glass instead to Camille.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, 'Arry!"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it, really…"

"For how long?" Draco asked, which Harry hated. Just hated.

"Uhm, for about two years now, I guess. But it's not a big deal, really."

"Congratulations."

So he was forced to say "thanks," even if he hated talking about this more than he hated not drinking, then actually thanked the heavens when Ron changed the subject back to their jobs. At least, talking about that came easier than the small talk they'd done before and soon after desert, himself, Draco and Ron were left alone at the table. Camille and the girls retreated to Hermione's office to look at her impressive collection of rare books.

Draco was telling them how the French Bureau was organized, and Harry was for once actually listening to what he was saying instead of being way too aware of himself, when Hermione shouted Ron's name from the other room.

"Ah, excuse me."

Draco stopped talking, as he was mostly talking to Ron anyways, and took out his phone. Harry couldn't help staring at the wedding ring on Draco's finger.

"So, anyways, what's new with you, Harry?" Draco said all of a sudden, putting his phone back in the pocket.

"Ah, well, erm, you know. Nothing much."

"Nothing of interest happened to you in the last six years?"

"Well, same as you, many things happened. Er…obviously, I didn't change my job, or move countries. So, not that."

Draco squinted his eyes.

"Very illuminating."

Harry laughed, relieved for some reason.

"Uhm. I guess my life just isn't as interesting as yours."

Draco was still looking rather gravely at him, thus signalling to Harry that he had not understood he was joking. Thankfully, Ron was already back and, after throwing a final suspicious glance in his direction, he went back to explaining task division between French field Aurors and the Muggle jandarmerie .

Despite that disaster of an exchange, the next few days Harry started to feel as if he was finally getting used to Draco's presence. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to happen to him lately, but it wasn't the worst either. He was still a bit irked every time he saw Ron in Draco's office, but he tried to save those thoughts for his therapist. He had even given Draco a potion he'd confiscated to examine, all while being very professional about it. A few days after that, he heard a knock at his door.

"Come in."

Draco entered his office, his hair and white shirt completely covered in black dust, and immediately said:

"Don't lie to me, Potter, are you trying to murder me?"

"What?" Harry screamed, panicked.

"The potion you gave me, it exploded as soon as I opened the bottle."

"I didn't know it would do that, I swear!"

Draco squinted his eyes at him again.

"I know, Harry, I was joking. I didn't know either, it was a very well concealed explosive. Probably a trap. I'd investigate further if I were you, but don't open any vials you find."

And then he was gone from his office.

Harry did end up investigating further, but didn't find any more leads, so he just didn't mention it again to Draco. Which was apparently the wrong thing to do, because, another couple days later, Draco marched in his office, looking rather glum.

"So? Are you never going to get back to me about that exploding potion?"

"Huh?"

"What did you find out about that exploding potion?"

"Nothing, it's a dead end. I confiscated it off a known dealer, who'd stolen it off a wizard who fell asleep in a ditch on Knockturn Alley."

"So you could have told me that, so I can close my file."

"Ah…"

"Harry, do you have a problem with me?"

"What?"

"I don't know, you're very jumpy around me."

Harry was not ready for this conversation.

"I…"

"I have a lot of things to do now, but let's get lunch together, OK?"

And then he was gone, again. Harry had the impression they were functioning at two different speeds at all times. But no matter how much he hated to admit it, he knew he was right. He was indeed jumpy, but he didn't know what to say about it or how lunch could help with that.

They went together to the Indian restaurant across the street from the ministry. Once they were seated with their food in front of them, Draco said:

"So, what's the problem? You don't want me working here, or what? Ron said you've always supported his decision."

"No! I don't care about that! It's great!"

"Wow, that was very convincing!"

Harry scratched his temples, trying as hard as he could to think of something to tell Draco. His therapist's words came to mind.

"I just… need some time to adjust."

"Adjust to what? Do you still think I'm a criminal?"

Harry was shocked out of his discomfort.

"What are you on about, Draco? I never believed that!"

Looking as if he didn't believe him, he went on:

"I just want to do my job right, so whatever it is that's bothering you, just tell me, so we can talk about it. And maybe move past it. Is it the Dark Mark?"

And as he said that, he touched it with his opposite hand, the tail of the snake slightly visible under his sleeve.

"No! God! I …"

Harry rubbed his eyes, desperately looking for a way out of this discussion. Strenuously, he did his best to pinpoint what exactly it was that he was feeling. Eventually, he blurted out:

"I guess it's just weird for me that you're back, you know, after what happened between us."

Draco leaned back on his chair, considering him carefully.

"Is that what's been bothering you?" he asked, as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. "I don't care about that anymore, Harry. So there's no need to be weird about it."

Harry didn't know where to begin to interpret this, or how to respond to it. So he just nodded instead.

"Then I don't know what you want from me, Draco."

"I just want you to treat me normally. Call me Malfoy, you know?"

"Like in school?"

Draco made a sweeping motion with his hand, discarding Harry's proposal.

"No, of course not. Let's just be… colleagues. Mates, maybe?" Then, with just the slightest hesitation, he added: "If you want to."

"Yes, of course. Of course I want that, Draco. Er, sorry, I meant Malfoy," he said, attempting a friendly smile.

Draco gleamed back at him.

"Great. It's settled then, Potter!"

The rest of the lunch was actually pretty pleasant, as pleasant as lunch with any coworker, gossiping about the accounting department and the likes. The awkwardness was magically gone by the time they walked back into the ministry and parted ways in front of Harry's office, shaking hands. Harry had no idea how Draco had managed that, but was thankful nonetheless.