Harry caught himself staring at Draco over the large, oval table filled with maps, documents and random pieces of parchment, and quickly redirected his attention back to Christopher's graphs. He was chewing the end of a quill, lost in thoughts, when Ron snapped him out of it.

"What do you think, Harry?"

Everybody turned to look at him, including Draco.

"I think we should just do it. Of course."

A murmur rose up in the crowded conference room.

"We have to do it, so why wait?"

"Because it's not safe yet," Christopher replied.

"You just said you can't assess the risk until we have more information. To get more information, we need to at least scout the area."

"Scouting poses the same risks -"

"I got that, but we have to do something, don't we?"

"And you, Conrad? What do you think?" Ron asked, switching the focus from Harry's growing impatience.

"I don't know, boss. I'm fine to go with Harry, if that's what you decide."

"We don't need to decide now who's going. Just when."

"Well, I'm definitely going," Harry said, matter-of-factly. "This is my case."

Ron shot him one of his signatures not now, Harry looks, so Harry raised his hands to show he's dropped the subject for now.

The room was silent, the tension palpable. Even Draco stopped doodling.

"Well, since nobody else wants to express their opinion, I'll share mine. I agree with Harry, I don't see any reason to delay the scouting mission. But before we decide who's going I want plans drawn up, so we can be strategic about it, as the risks are so high. Harry's the lead on that, Felix, you'll assist him with the plans, and then we'll see. Alright?"

A general murmur of agreement was quickly followed by the sound of chairs moving and papers being put back into their folders. The meeting was over. Back in his office, Harry started work on the plans Ron had requested, but didn't get very far. He needed to talk in order to think, so he gathered his files and went across the hallway.

The office smelt like a garden that morning. Draco was cutting some valerian roots on the work table, sleeves drawn up, smoking cauldron by his side.

"Hey," Harry said.

Draco turned at the sound of his voice, one single strand of hair falling from behind his ear.

"Hi, Harry."

As for Ron, he sat on Draco's office, drinking his third coffee of the day and complaining, as usual, about Ulmer.

"What's up, love?"

"I'm stuck on something."

"Spit it out, then. "

Harry spread the papers he'd brought all over Draco's desk, who left his work table and came to look over Harry's shoulder at the impressive map of the Waterloo train station.

"I don't understand something. If our friends need to smuggle their contraband through here, why don't they just use this tunnel instead?"

"How do you know they don't?" Draco asked.

"None of our sources mentioned it, but they must be using it, it's too conveniently placed. I'd like to send in a team first to confirm it though. Because otherwise - look," he turned the map, so he could unfold another side, brushing past Draco in the process, "otherwise, they could take us by surprise coming from here."

Ron was considering the map.

"So, what's the problem? Where are you stuck?"

"Well, in fact, I have no idea how to get our team inside. I can see it coming from the North, and here it branches out into the main one, but I've been looking at this map for an hour and I couldn't find a way to get to it from the train station."

Both Ron and Draco got closer to the map, inspecting the part Harry had pointed to.

"Bloody hell, you're right."

"There must be one. Do you have another map?" Draco asked.

"No, I don't, but that's a good idea."

"Send Felix to get you another one."

"Fucking hell. I'll do that, yes," Harry said, annoyed that the solution included more waiting time.

Harry folded away his map, then watched as Draco's potion turned from blue to gold when he added the roots to the mixture.

"Anyway, what were you so worked up about? What did Ulmer do again?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. He's putting pressure on us to cut costs, but he's already signed his own Christmas bonus."

Harry patted Ron on the shoulder in solidarity.

"I'm sorry you're dealing with this again, mate."

Not appearing consoled in the slightest, he sighed:

"Nothing we can do about it. Anyways, I'm going, I have a meeting with the bloody accounting department."

"See you later, boys" Draco said, reaching for a jar above his head.

"See you later," Harry replied, throwing a last glance in his direction, just in time to see him empty the contents of the jar into the cauldron, which turned from gold back to blue.

It had been like that for a while now, the three of them. It started a couple of days after their lunch, when Harry decided on a whim to join them in Draco's office, instead of sulking from a safe distance. He ended up spending his morning perched up on Draco's desk, listening to him and Ron talk about a French guy they both knew, laughing so hard it hurt. Another couple of days after that, it was Draco who came into Ron's office while Harry was talking about a missing person's case that was not going anywhere, and they both helped him come up with some new leads. And then it just kept happening. On one hand, Draco was just like Harry remembered: sarcastic, cutting, arrogant. On another hand, Harry learnt he was also many other things he would have never guessed prior to working alongside him.

First of all, he figured out how incredibly stuck up Draco was about procedures. Worse than Hermione, and neither Ron nor Harry said that lightly. Once, when Harry made the mistake of leaving his office with a vial of Polyjuice potion without signing off for it, Draco followed him through half the ministry with the form he had to complete. He was fuming by the time he caught up with Harry.

"What are you trying to do, Potter, commit fraud?"

He pushed the form and a quill in Harry's hand, who had been so surprised by his apparition he almost took out his wand to curse him.

"I'm pretty sure this doesn't constitute fraud, Draco."

"I'm pretty sure it could, if someone tried really hard to find evidence of fraud."

Harry scribbled his signature without adding anything else, finding Draco's worry partly endearing, partly indicative of a dangerous level of judiciary paranoia.

Second of all, he learnt that Draco was unreservedly obsessed about potions. He reorganized their entire potions stock, not by name, as it had been before, or by use, as Harry would have imagined, but by active ingredients. The new system made it impossible for anybody other than him to find his way through the rows of potions, which Harry suspected had been Draco's intention in the first place. But even the most skeptical person would have been forced to admit he was a really good potioneer. He could come up with antidotes to random, newly brewed potions in record time, and had many faster and quicker antidotes than their reputable counterparts.

"Did you invent this?" he'd asked innocently, when Draco presented him a completely clear potion instead of the classical pale pink one he expected.

"Yes, Potter, I did. And it's been approved by the PFA, so no need to worry!"

He called him Potter every time he was defensive about something, Harry had noticed.

"I wasn't worried, Jesus!"

But Draco already left Harry's vicinity to fumble through his stock cabinet.

He also used a lot of muggle ingredients in his potions, which Harry had never seen anybody else ever do.

"Did you learn about that in university?" he asked another time, when he witnessed Draco take out a bottle of muggle pills, which he emptied into a cauldron full of a silver looking substance.

"About magnesium? Yes, you know, they only tell the smartest of us about magnesium."

"Don't be an asshole, I was actually curious. How does that work?"

"Well, since you're actually curious, I guess I could explain."

"Er…"

"Where's Ana?"

Ana was his intern.

"She could benefit from this, as well."

And then he went on to explain the roles of ionic substances in enhancing certain magical properties to him and Ana, who at least seemed to understand some parts of what he said.

"So, you see, it's all about understanding the causes of the tension between the elements."

He'd left Draco's office that day feeling like he understood even less things about potions than before.

Another thing he had noticed was that Draco was very sociable. He'd quickly made friends around the office, and not only just fellow Aurors. One morning, Harry found him drinking coffee in the toilet, chatting with Ben, who was fixing one of the sinks. From what Harry could tell, they were talking about the state of Ben's marriage. Harry wasn't even aware Ben, a person he knew since he started working at the Ministry 12 years ago, was married.

And as far as their interactions went, they were mostly about Harry's cases, which Draco got very invested in. He often followed up on the most inconsequential of details, even when they had nothing to do with Draco's job, and seemed genuinely interested in Harry's way of going about solving them. After a while, it became almost second nature to just tell him every new development as it was unfolding, or rush across the hallway when he had an Eureka moment.

So, Harry told himself as he closed the door between them, if he found himself wanting to talk to Draco more and more every day, that was simply because talking to him turned out to be more pleasant than he'd anticipated.

A few days after the meeting about the Waterloo intervention, the entire BAO was invited to attend a Ministry fundraiser, one of Ulmer's latest strategies to round up the yearly budget. After an entire day spent planning decoy strategies and escape routes, Harry was dragged away by the Minister himself and forced to mingle with Britain's richest wizards as soon as he set foot into the giant hotel reception. He watched enviously as the rest of the department went on to occupy one of the front tables, Draco and Ron's hair clearly visible through the sea of dark robes. That evening, he went on to speak with an immeasurable amount of people whose faces he couldn't distinguish from each other after a couple of hours, all of whom congratulated him for things he had done years ago, as a teenager, and which he detested remembering. He hadn't felt like drinking in a long time, but he wished for nothing more than a glass of whiskey when the tenth person of the night asked to touch his scar. He had just avoided talking to one of these people again when he spotted Draco a couple of tables down, laughing with the other Aurors, and felt a pang of jealousy, quickly followed by something else entirely when Draco met his gaze, just for an instant. He immediately looked away, and avoided glancing at that part of the room for the rest of the evening.

By the time the Minister left him alone and he finally made his way to the BOA table, almost none of the people he had come with were still there. Feeling slightly disappointed when he realized neither Ron nor Draco had waited for him, he said his goodbyes to his colleagues then headed towards the cloakroom. There, waiting for his coat, looking at home surrounded by walls covered in red velvet and gold, was Draco Malfoy, casually leaning on the counter. He appeared lost in thoughts.

"Hey, I thought you'd left," Harry said.

Draco turned to Harry in surprise.

"Hey, you! If it isn't the star of the evening himself!"

"Oh, shut up."

Harry handed the old man manning the stand the ticket for his own coat when Draco received his.

"I have to say, as far as fundraisers go, this one was beyond terrible, but seeing you doing politics was definitely its redeeming quality."

"I don't know if that's what I was doing, really." he said, without resisting the urge to smile.

"Don't worry, it was cute. I mean, I think I've seen you happier surrounded by dementors, but still, it was cute."

"Well, thank you for this review of my performance. Cute is exactly what I was going for, anyways."

They made their way to the exit together. Around them, members of the staff were levitating towers of empty plates from the reception area.

"I didn't get a chance to eat anything," Harry said mournfully, eyeing a half eaten piece of steak.

"You didn't miss anything, the food was substandard at best."

Harry let out a chuckle.

"I don't know, I could swear I saw you and Ron devouring your plates."

"Well, I never said I didn't eat it, did I?"

Draco kept the large front door open for Harry, who stepped into the cold September night, then took out a pair of gloves from his pocket.

"Are you walking?" Harry asked.

"Yes, of course."

Harry considered his surroundings for a second.

"I think I'll walk as well."

"What a spontaneous decision on your part," Draco said, amused for no reason at all, at least in Harry's opinion. He then added "Where do you live now?"

Harry hesitated just a second before saying:

"Same as before."

"Ah. I guess we'll walk together, then. My hotel's right around the corner from your place."

"Really?"

"Yes, I stumbled upon your street when I was walking around. But I thought maybe you'd moved."

"No, still there."

They started walking in tandem alongside the dimly lit road, the silence stretching between them.

"So," Draco started.

"So," Harry replied.

"Did you get a new map?"

"Yes. Yes, I did."

"And?"

"Still no way of getting in that tunnel, but I'm going tomorrow to check it out by myself."

"You're going alone?"

"Hmm. Yes, I think that will be better. I'll need some Polyjuice potion."

"I'll leave it out for you in the morning."

"Thanks."

When they reached Harry's street, he stupidly said:

"Well, here's me."

They both looked at Harry's building for an instant, as if admiring its architecture.

"See you tomorrow then."

"Yes, see you."

And that's how it started, them walking back home together after work.

It was maybe a couple of weeks later when Harry eventually asked Draco to come upstairs for the first time. They had been in front of his building talking about how the Waterloo mission had unfolded for about ten minutes, when Harry finally said:

"Don't you just want to come up?"

If Draco was surprised by the sudden proposal, he hid it well.

"Sure, why not."

"Are you hungry?" Harry asked while unlocking the front door. "I've got some leftovers, if you want."

"That you cooked?"

"Yes?"

"Well, color me impressed, Potter! Yes, I'll try your food, but be aware, I won't spare your feelings!"

"I'm sure you won't", Harry replied, amused.

While Harry reheated the chicken from the previous night, all of a sudden quite worried about how his recipe turned out, Draco made himself comfortable on Harry's couch.

"So, you were saying?"

Harry continued his story.

"That's very lucky, that Conrad was actually paying attention for once," Draco said, maybe 10 minutes later.

"Exactly," Harry concluded, handing Draco a bowl. "We can go sit at the table, if you want."

Harry gestured towards his dining room table, which was filled to the brim with piles and piles of documents Harry never got around to sorting.

"No, this is perfect", Draco said and took the bowl from Harry's hand.

How he managed to look so gracious, legs crossed on his old beaten up coach, was a complete mystery to Harry. He sat on the armchair opposite from him and watched anxiously as he took the first bite.

"Your place changed a lot," Draco remarked, pointing his fork at a bookcase by the window.

Harry looked around. He could barely remember what his apartment had looked like at any other time than the present.

"Yes?"

"Yes. It was completely empty before."

"Oh. I was never home, I guess."

Draco then pointed at a picture of him, Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

"Is that from Hogwarts?"

Harry Accio'd the frame and offered it to Draco, stretching over the coffee table.

"Yes. Sixth year."

"Wow."

He studied the picture for much longer than Harry would have anticipated. Harry ate in silence, watching him.

"I remember when you and Ginerva became a thing."

Harry let out a chuckle of genuine surprise.

"You do?"

"Yes, I think the whole castle talked about it for a month. All the girls were heartbroken. Even the Slytherins."

Draco handed him the picture back.

"And you too?"

Harry immediately regretted his attempt at teasing, which never did come as naturally to him as it did to Draco, but Draco just burst into laughter.

"Sure, if you want."

Desperate to distance himself from his own innuendo, he quickly said:

"Did you really know you were gay … er… back then?"

"Yes, I did. Why, you didn't?"

"Well, obviously not, I was with Ginny."

"It figures, you were always a bit slow," Draco said, his smile softening the insult.

"But… how did you figure it out so early?"

Harry still remembered how shocked he had been to find out Draco was gay, when everybody else had found it rather obvious.

"I don't know… I just always knew that I liked boys."

"Really? Always? You've never been with a girl?"

"Nope."

"But I remember you also had a girlfriend… er, Pansy!"

"Of course I had a girlfriend! And I was supposed to marry her, too. Because that's how it worked when you came from a family like mine. Can you pass me the sauce?"

Harry made the hot sauce float in his direction.

"So… er… your parents knew?"

"My mom, yes. I think she must have told my father as well, but he never talked to me about it."

"And your mom told you to get a girlfriend?"

"She didn't need to tell me, Harry, it's just how it was. A lot of the men in … those circles … were gay, even if they were married and had children. Everybody knew it, but it wasn't talked about openly."

"And you were OK with that?"

Draco considered him for a second.

"Yes, I don't know. I guess I didn't really question it back then, no. But you're right, it's insane to live like that."

"And so, you… pretended? To be with Pansy?"

"Uhm, pretty much. And before you ask me, Pansy knew about it, she just didn't care."

Harry found it very hard to believe that she wouldn't have cared.

"It was her who introduced me to Thomas, anyways."

"Who's Thomas?"

"Thomas Reed? From Ravenclaw? He was in our year."

Harry knew who Thomas was, he just wasn't getting the point Draco was trying to make.

"He was my first boyfriend."

"What?!"

"What?" Draco repeated innocently.

"You had a boyfriend at Hogwarts?"

"Where else would I get a boyfriend, Harry? At the Manor?"

"I can't believe it!"

"I can see that, I just don't understand why."

"Because… I don't know. I feel like nobody even talked about that at Hogwarts."

"Just because you and your Gryffindor friends didn't talk about it doesn't mean nobody else did. There was quite the gay scene at Hogwarts, if you knew where to look."

"Shut up! Where?"

"I don't know, anywhere? What do you mean where ?"

"I don't know, I'm just shocked!"

"I'm shocked you're so shocked, surely by now you must have heard these stories. There's like 10 gay wizards in Great Britain."

Harry had barely even registered that Draco stood up and was now carrying their empty bowls back to the kitchen.

"No. Not really… I kind of avoided the Hogwarts crowd… Like Thomas… I only found out he was gay when he started dating Shaun. Er, you don't need to do that."

Draco rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and started washing the dishes.

"It's nothing." he screamed so he could make himself heard over the sound of the running water. "Who's Shaun?"

"Shaun is… he was my boyfriend. Uhm, you actually met him, kind of. At the bookstore."

Harry joined him in the kitchen to avoid having to scream back, and watched Draco scrupulously scrubbing at the pan he'd used to reheat the chicken.

"The one who told you to go fuck yourself through the window?"

"...yes, exactly."

"Huh! So he really was your boyfriend!"

"Yes? But blimey, you're right. There really are ten gay wizards in all of Britain. Well, Shaun's from Ireland."

"Are they still together?"

"Hm? I don't know, I don't think so."

"Last time I heard, Thomas was a big shot lawyer in New York."

"Yes, Shaun's a lawyer as well."

"Look at us, having similar tastes in men! Of course, Thomas wasn't a lawyer at school, but he might as well have been, seeing how much he was studying for his degree even then."

"And how did you keep it a secret?"

"Who?"

"You and Thomas. I never heard about that. Not even a rumor!"

Draco turned the water off and wiped his hands on Harry's kitchen towel.

"Well, my father would have killed us both if anybody ever found it, so we had quite the motivation to be careful. But it didn't last long, anyway. He dumped me… you know, in sixth year."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But anyways, it's a shame you didn't come out sooner, you'd have been quite the addition to our little clique."

Harry laughed, relieved Draco had changed the subject.

"Well, now I feel like I missed an entire thing."

"You most definitely did. Very good, your chicken, by the way."

It occurred to Harry that the last time they had been together in that kitchen, they had sex on the counter Draco was currently leaning on, arms crossed.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you very much for dinner, Potter. I guess I better get going now."

And with that, Draco brushed past Harry, exiting the kitchen. Harry followed him towards the entrance door.

"Yeah, no, my pleasure. Thank you for making me rethink my entire time at Hogwarts."

Draco laughed as he picked up his coat from the back of the chair he had left it on.

"Don't lose too much sleep over it, hein ? So, any weekend plans?"

"Nothing much, and you?"

"Well, you know I'm moving this weekend."

"Oh, yeah!"

"So Camille's coming over to help with that, and not much else."

Harry unexpectedly found his own door handle very interesting.

"Oh, cool! Have fun!"

"Sure, thanks. You too."

Back in the kitchen, he looked at the perfectly clean dishes carefully placed on the drying dish rack he never used. He cast a drying spell on them and then had them arranging themselves in the cupboards while he made his way to the couch.