FIC: Five Times Draco Malfoy Got Sacked (And One Time He Didn't) (H/D, NC-17) 2/2

[emmagrant01]

[FIVE]

"Now, now, class, settle down. Stand by your cauldrons and-- Miss Connelly, do NOT set Miss Hawkins' hair on fire again!"

Draco looked up from his position at the back of the potions classroom. Professor McMartin looked as frazzled as he sounded, pacing back and forth behind the desk at the front of the classroom of second-year students. The man was not cut out to be a teacher, and it was a sign of how desperate Hogwarts was that he was hired at all. Of course, that was precisely why McGonagall had hired Draco to help him.

McMartin turned his back to the students yet again to drone on at the board about the steps of creating Essence of Licium, and the students immediately busied themselves with various forms of mischief. Esmerelda Connelly raised her wand to point it at the braided pigtails of the girl in right in front of her once again, and Draco pointed his wand at the back of her head and cast a thumping jinx. She nearly fell into her cauldron from the impact, and turned around to glare at Draco. He shook his head sternly, and she rolled her eyes as she turned back to the front.

She didn't make a move out of line for the rest of the lesson, and neither did anyone else, though she and her friends gave Draco rather nasty looks on their way out of the classroom. They were annoying little shits, for the most part. He wondered how Snape had managed not to kill any of them in the fifteen-odd years he was a professor.

He'd been forced to use the cruciatus curse on some of these very students the year before, and though it probably wielded him a certain amount of disciplinary leverage, it hardly engendered anything resembling respect for him. He wasn't a teacher, and he was no longer a student. He'd existed in an odd sort of limbo for the last two weeks. And somehow he was still faring better than Professor McMartin.


McMartin collapsed behind his desk once the students had all filed out, looking as if he were about to have a nervous breakdown. Draco gave him until Christmas break, at the most.

"Shall I gather supplies for the fourth-year lesson?" he asked, casting a quick cleaning charm under several of the cauldron stations.

"Yes, please," McMartin replied, his voice quavering a bit. "I'm just going to rest for a moment." He put his head down on the desk and made a sound almost like a sob.

It was an hour before the next lesson, and Draco decided he could use a strong cup of tea first. He headed up to the staff lounge, dodging groups of students and ignoring the looks of disdain from the Gryffindors. Two Slytherin girls giggled at him as he passed, and he recognized them as two of the four from his last day at the Cracked Cauldron. He winked at them, earning another round of giggles, and kept walking.

The staff lounge was sparsely decorated, but well-appointed for its purpose. It was empty at the moment, which was a relief. Draco poured himself a cup from the teapot and settled onto a sofa with a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Here you are, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall swept into the room, heading to the teapot as well. She poured herself a cup and sat next to Draco on the sofa. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Draco suppressed a groan. The last time McGonagall had asked him for a favor, he had to teach Charms to first-years. It had taken him all evening to grow his eyebrows back.

McGonagall gave him a knowing look. "Don't worry, I won't be asking you to teach a lesson again anytime soon. I need another chaperone for the Halloween Ball on Saturday evening."

Draco laughed. "You want me to be a chaperone? Are you joking?"

"I recognize a certain amount of irony in the request, yes. But I am desperate, and you are technically an adult on the staff."

"What am I supposed to do, exactly?"

"Keep them from doing all the things you got away with, of course." She winked at him.

*****

The owl found him as he was relaxing in his room. One of the few perks of working at Hogwarts was the free room and board, and though it had pained him to let go of his flat in Diagon Alley, Draco did appreciate not having to worry about paying rent, for once. He was stretched out on the bed, contemplating jerking off, when an owl started pecking at the room's tiny window. He opened it and took the proffered note, and settled back onto his bed to read it.

Draco,

I heard you ended your employment at the Cracked Cauldron in great style. I'm sorry I missed it. McGonagall said you were working as a teaching assistant for Potions now. Have you had to crucio any of the little shits yet?

I still want to buy you a proper drink. What are your plans for Halloween night?

Harry

He read the note three times, uncertain what to make of it. Was Potter asking him on a date? Surely not. But wouldn't the hero of the Wizarding World have something better to do on a holiday than hang out with Draco?

That was all beside the point, of course, as he'd already told McGonagall he would chaperone the Ball. There was a pecking at the window again; the owl had apparently been instructed to wait for a reply. He dug up a quill and a scrap of parchment.

Harry,

I've been persuaded by McGonagall to chaperone the Halloween Ball, unfortunately. Though I'm sure I'll need a stiff drink afterward, all the pubs will have closed. Perhaps another time?

Draco

He hesitated for a moment, reading the note a few times to make sure it had the proper balance of interest and cool indifference, before handing it to the owl to take away again.

He stayed awake as long as he could manage, but Potter's owl didn't return.

*****

By the night of the Halloween Ball, Draco was sorry he'd ever agreed to chaperone the damn thing. The students who were old enough to attend had talked of nothing else for the entire week prior, and he'd been forced to spend much of his free time in the evenings supervising detentions for giggly girls. He'd advised dozens of students on their Ball attire, counseled a handful of distraught Slytherins about their romantic troubles, and changed his mind four times about what he was going to wear.

Finally dressed, he walked down to the Great Hall to help with final preparations. He was assigned to the main entrance to ensure no students below the fourth year got in, which turned out to be a far more enjoyable task than he would have imagined. Once the Ball was underway, he walked the perimeter, ferreting out pairs of overly-romantic students and confiscating vials of questionable substances. It grew incredibly boring after the first hour, though, and by ten o'clock he was starting to consider sneaking away.

"Hi, Mr. Malfoy!" He turned to see the usual gang of Slytherin girls standing nearby, giggling at him.

"Ladies," he said, bowing slightly, which elicited another round of giggles.

Time to make his escape. He headed out of the doors into the main corridor, and leaned back against a wall. He'd hated these things when he was a student. How had he let himself get roped into attending one as staff?

He heard a fluttering sound above his head, and looked up to see a small paper bird circling him. He watched it for a moment, and then reached up to pluck it from the air. It went still at his touch, and he unfolded it to see a familiar scrawl.

Still need that drink?

He smiled, and the paper rose out of his hands, refolded itself into its bird-like shape, and flittered away. It paused when it was a few feet away from him and turned back, bobbing in the air. He followed, and it began to fly away again, leading him down several corridors, a flight of stairs, and ultimately to door of the Potions classroom.

He pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was dark except for a single candle suspended in the air over the desk at the front. Behind that desk sat Harry Potter, a bottle of firewhisky in his hand.

Draco walked down through the student desks to the front, took the bottle out of Potter's hand, and took a long swig.

"The answer is yes," he said, handing the bottle back, and Potter grinned.

"I thought you'd probably need a break by now."

"How did you get in here?" Draco asked, leaning against the desk.

"I have a wand, you know. It wasn't that difficult." He took another long draw on the bottle and offered it to Draco again. "I think the locking spells are only intended to keep the students out."

"I suppose." He held the bottle up to the candlelight and was surprised to see it was nearly half-empty. "Are you drunk?"

"Maybe a little."

Draco took another swig and then summoned a chair to slide over next to him. He settled into it and propped his feet up on the desk. "It's Halloween night, Potter. Why are you spending it drinking alone?"

"I'm not alone now."

"You know what I mean. Didn't you have parties to go to tonight, friends desperate to hang on your every word?" He paused, picking at the label of the bottle. "A girlfriend to keep you warm?"

Potter laughed. "I suppose that's how it ought to be. But no, I have none of those things." He held his hand out for the bottle, and Draco handed it to him. "Especially not the last one."

"It didn't work out with Ginny Weasley?"

"No," Potter replied, in a tone that indicated he wasn't going to discuss the topic further. "What about you? Don't you have better things to do on Halloween than chaperone a school dance?"

Draco snorted. "If I did, don't you think I'd be doing them?"

They were silent for a moment. Potter looked around the room and sighed. "Is it strange to be a teacher in this room?"

"Teaching assistant," Draco corrected. "Some of my best memories are in this room."

"I have very few good memories of this place."

"Then why did you ask me to meet you here?"

Potter stood, stretching, and circled the desk. He leaned against it next to where Draco was sitting, his thigh pressing against Draco's foot. "There are other rooms with worse memories."

Draco nodded. He hadn't yet been able to walk down the corridor where the entrance of the Room of Requirement was, nor had he been able to eat a meal in the Great Hall. He looked up to see that Potter was staring at him, his expression unreadable. Potter held out a hand.

"It's on the desk," Draco said, pointing at the bottle.

Potter shook his head, still holding out his hand. Draco's stomach fluttered, but he took Potter's hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. Potter pulled him closer, so close that Draco was standing between his knees. Potter stared at him for a long moment.

"What?" Draco asked at last.

"Promise me you won't hex me for this," Potter whispered, his green eyes wide in the dim light. He tugged Draco even closer.

"I won't," Draco whispered in reply. They were so close together he could feel the heat of Potter's body, could feel Potter trembling. Perhaps it was the firewhisky, but Draco wasn't nervous. He leaned forward, and then Potter closed the gap between them and pressed his mouth against Draco's.

It was a long, delicious kiss, the sort Draco had only dreamed about. Potter's mouth was hot and soft and wet, and his lips moved against Draco's slowly.

It was a good minute before they came up for air, both of them panting.

"Definitely gay, then," Potter said, and Draco laughed.

"You weren't sure?"

"I am now," Potter replied, and kissed him again, this time sliding one hand around the back of Draco's head.

Draco's hands went to Potter's shoulders, then down his sides to his hips, and he pulled Potter forward on the desk until their groins were pressed together. Potter whimpered at the contact, and Draco realized Potter's cock was rock hard under his trousers. He tugged Potter's knees up and pressed him down against the desk, grinding his own erection against Potter's. Potter's hands dug into his back, and Draco broke the kiss long enough to shed the coat he was wearing.

Potter was on his back on the table, his legs wrapped around Draco's thighs, his cock straining against his trousers. He stared up at Draco with wild eyes, and before Draco could remove any more clothing, Potter pulled him back down again, crushing their mouths together.

He was reduced to rutting against Potter; all he could feel was hands, and friction and a wet tongue sliding against his own and stubble grinding into his chin, and the steady swell of sensation in his balls that meant he was going to come.

Potter was groaning now, and one hand was digging into Draco's arse, encouraging him to move faster. He couldn't think any more, couldn't hear anything but the sound of Potter's groans and of their breathing and the sound of fabric rubbing on fabric, and then he came, mouth open against Potter's, and crying out, overcome. Potter kept moving against him, and then he was coming too, hissing a stream of Muggle curse words and clenching Draco's hips so hard it hurt.

"Oh, fucking hell," Potter said, dropping his arms back against the desk. "Oh, god."

Draco pushed himself to his feet, still trembling. His pants were sticky-wet now, but he didn't care. There was probably a spell for that, and once enough blood had returned to his brain he'd think of it. For now it was difficult enough to process what had just happened, and with whom.

Potter opened his eyes and grinned at Draco, and then propped himself up on his elbows. "There's a fantasy I can check off the list."

"What?"

"Sex on Snape's desk. You can't tell me you've never thought about it."

Draco blinked at him. "Are you sure you weren't supposed to be in Slytherin?"

Potter shrugged and sat up, running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to calm it down. He looked so thoroughly debauched that it made Draco's mouth water.

"Of course I've thought about it," he replied, trying not to grin like an idiot. "Who hasn't?"

Potter grabbed a handful of Draco's shirt and pulled him in for another kiss, and it hit Draco then -- this had been his first real kiss, his first sexual encounter, his first time with a man. And it was with Harry Potter.

Father would explode on the spot if he found out.

"I should probably get back to the Ball," he whispered against Potter's lips.

"It's almost midnight. Why bother?" Potter's mouth made its way down Draco's neck, nibbling and sending little shivers of sensation through him. Though he hadn't been with another man before, this was definitely not Potter's first time.

There was a loud clanging sound, like dozens of cauldrons being turned over, and they jumped apart.

A screeching, sing-songy voice filled the room: "Potter and Malfoy, naughty as can be, F-U-C-K-I-"

"Peeves!" Potter shouted, and sent a hex flying in the direction of the voice.

Peeves' squealed in pain, and then popped out from behind a column to leer at them. "Naughty, naughty boys! But why pick on me? I wasn't the only one watching!"

Draco hexed Peeves again for good measure, sending him barreling around the classroom. "Who else is in here? Show yourself!"

There was no response, no sound other than Peeves' maniacal laughter fading into the distance as he zipped away, leaving them standing alone in the dim light.

"Why didn't I lock the door behind me when I came in?" Draco groaned, pressing his hands to his face. Those Slytherin girls had been watching him before he left the Ball, and they could easily have followed him down here, snuck into the room, and watched everything. It wouldn't take long for that little bit of news to spread around the school, and since Potter was involved, to make the papers. Or worse, get back to his parents, and he wasn't ready for them to find out he was gay -- not yet.

"Peeves is full of it," Potter said, picking up the firewhisky bottle again. "Don't worry about it."

"That's easy for you to say," Draco retorted, whirling to face him. "You're not the one who's about to get sacked for this."

Potter almost laughed. "You're not going to get sacked."

"Yes, I am. In case you haven't noticed, I always get sacked when you show up. This is the fifth job I've had in five months, and every single time I'm let go within a day of running into you."

"Are you saying it's my fault that you keep getting sacked?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. It’s a big conspiracy, and I blame you entirely. Don't you even care that Peeves is probably at the moment telling the entire school that we were making out on Snape's desk?"

"Not particularly, no. It's not a big deal."

Draco stared at him for a moment, not sure why that comment had stung so much. "It is to me."

Potter looked away. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, you did. And I don't blame you. You could crucio puppies at this point and no one would care. But some of us have to figure out how to survive in this new world you've made possible, and it's not so fucking easy."

He expected Potter to argue with him, but he didn't. He just sat there, holding the firewhiskey bottle and listening. He looked thoughtful, even. It was maddening.

"I should go pack," Draco said. "Thanks for the drink, and for the…" He gestured at the desk, not exactly sure what to label what had happened between them. "I'll see you around."

He left the classroom, half-hoping Potter would try to stop him, or at least say something, but he remained silent. Draco didn't look back.

*****

To Draco's surprise, there was no howler from McGonagall the next morning. It was Sunday, and he decided to visit his parents. Perhaps an afternoon spent with them would soften the blow of any unsavory news they might get soon.

Mother was happy to see him, and prepared a lavish tea. She had recently taken a position in a trinket shop in Diagon Alley, and she and Father at least had food now. Father sat behind his paper the entire time, and did little more than nod at Draco in greeting.

"Can you help me with something , darling?" she asked as they were finishing tea, and he followed her up the long winding staircase and into an old disused room, where boxes were piled all around.

"What is this?"

"Every piece of clothing you've ever worn, all of my dresses, your father's old robes. I'm going to sell it all." She sighed and turned back to him. "Don't tell your father. He doesn't know."

"You need the money?"

She nodded. "And honestly, these clothes aren't doing us any good just sitting here. Your father will never fit into these again." She indicated a box that looked rather dusty.

Draco smiled, and opened the box closest to him. It was full of tiny clothes, and it was a moment before he realized they were his. He pulled out a tiny gown that had once been white, and held it to his chest. "Did this really fit me once?"

Mother didn't answer, and he looked up to see that her eyes were filled with tears.

He felt terrible instantly -- he was making light of their situation, and he shouldn't. She had always been financially secure, had never wanted for anything, and here she was selling her own possessions to put food on the table.

She reached out and took the little gown from him, and caressed the fabric with her fingers. A tear fell onto one sleeve, and she wiped it away, then looked back up at him.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he said, stepping closer and touching her arm. "I didn't mean to be insensitive."

She smiled and wiped her eyes. "I suppose I'm not ready to part with this one quite yet." She looked at it again, and he could see her struggling not to cry. "You were such a precious baby, so happy, so beautiful. I wanted to have another, and so I kept everything, all of your toys, all of your clothes. But…" She put a hand over her mouth and clutched the tiny gown to her cheek.

Draco took her in his arms pulled her close, and she pressed her face into his chest. He could feel the dampness of her tears through his shirt, could feel her shoulders shaking. He looked past her at the stack of boxes and saw that most of them were carefully labeled with his name. He felt his own emotions rising, and he closed his eyes.

"I know," he whispered. "But you have me, Mother, and you always will. You don't need all of this."

She lifted her head and wiped her eyes, nodding. "I know. And since it's highly unlikely I will ever be a grandmother, there's no point in keeping it any longer."

He blinked at her, uncertain what to say.

She wiped away a single tear that had spilled onto his cheek, and smiled. "You are my son, and I love you. Do you think I don't know you? That I don't see who catches your eye, and who does not?"

"Mother--"

"Your father will have a difficult time accepting it, but he'll come around. He loves you, though he doesn't often show it."

Draco pulled her against him again, overcome. He nodded, and buried his face in her hair.

*****

At the beginning of the first Potions lesson on Monday morning, he knew it was all over. The fifth year combined Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students snickered at him as they came in, and kept looking back over their shoulders at him during the lecture.

He endured a few catcalls as he walked to the staff lounge afterwards, and by the time McGonagall found him, he was resigned to his fate.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "Come with me, Mr. Malfoy."

He followed her to her office, a place that reminded him sharply of Snape, and sat in the chair across from her desk. The portraits of the headmasters were mostly empty this morning, to his relief.

She settled behind her desk and sighed.

"I know, I know," he said, blushing furiously. "It was stupid and irresponsible, and, well -- it was Potter, so that alone was going to get me sacked. So just get it over with, and I'll be on my way."

McGonagall's eyebrows rose so high he thought they might disappear into her hat. "So the rumors are true?"

Draco blinked at her, and suddenly felt rather foolish. "Rumors?"

"It's all over the school that you and Harry Potter had some sort of romantic liaison in the Potions classroom on the night of the Ball. I would have bet ten galleons that it wasn't true."

Draco rubbed at his forehead with one hand. If he'd only kept his mouth shut…

"Well," she continued, "this is a bit of a surprise. I was going to ask you how you wanted me to handle the rumors."

"I'm sorry, Headmistress."

"This does change things, I'm afraid. Such behavior is not tolerated among the faculty and staff. This is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, not a brothel." Draco choked back a laugh, and she shook her head. "And don't think that I'm prejudiced, either. Albus Dumbledore was one of my closest friends."

Draco glanced up at Dumbledore's portrait in confusion, but there was no one there.

"And lest you think yourself so terribly clever, Mr. Malfoy, you're hardly the first to use that classroom for such a purpose. That desk has seen quite a few students suspended and faculty fired. I'll never understand why one piece of furniture inspires such debauchery." She sniffed. "Dumbledore even had it thoroughly checked for traces of a powerful love potion several years ago, to no end."

Draco shook his head, certain he'd just learned far more about his former teachers than he'd ever wanted to know.

"However, under the circumstances, perhaps it would be best for you to take a leave for the remainder of the term. If you wish to return after Christmas--"

"No, thank you," Draco said. "I appreciate the offer, but I think my days at Hogwarts are done."

McGonagall nodded. "Well, then, best of luck to you, Mr. Malfoy. And I do wish you and Potter well."

Draco forced a smile. He wasn't going to tell her he'd just blown the chance she'd given him on a one-night-stand.

*****

[AND ONE…]

"I'd like two small pumpkin chai lattes. And don't skimp on the pumpkin this time."

Maya smirked at Draco from behind the counter. "You're supposed to pay for the extra pumpkin, you know."

"It's too expensive as it is," Draco retorted, counting out sickles and knuts. "I don't know why I spend my hard-earned gold in this place every day."

"You come to see me, admit it," she replied, winking at him.

He left with cups of chai a few minutes later, pulling his robe more tightly around him in the chilly morning air. His little flat had been cold this morning; he'd only moved back in a week ago and hadn't yet got around to casting all the proper heating charms.

He turned off of the main street and down an alley toward the offices of Witch Weekly. He raised one cup in greeting at the witch sitting at the front desk and then climbed the stairs to the office of Marjorie Glittendon, the editor he worked for.

"Draco, you're late," she said as he walked in. "I hope you picked up one of those for me."

"Of course." He set the cup on her desk, and she picked it up and took a drink without even glancing up at him. She reminded him of a caricature of his mother, tall and thin and elegant, but the details of her appearance were a bit exaggerated -- a bustline enhancement spell, an incredibly intricate upswept hairdo, a bit too much sparkle on her clothing, and utterly perfect makeup. She was curious to look at, and a force to be reckoned with.

"I have some research for you to check over today, and an article I want you to try your hand at editing."

"Editing?" He'd worked for Marjorie for almost over two weeks now, and had never been asked to do anything more than file papers and check facts.

She peered at him over her jeweled hornrim glasses. "I promised Minerva I'd give you a chance. Don't fuck it up."

'You know I will," he replied with a laugh.

He worked through the stacks of papers on his desk, sorting them into piles according to who needed to be called and what documents needed to be looked up. By early afternoon he'd made considerable progress, and when Marjorie came to sit on the edge of his desk with a scroll of parchment in hand, he was ready.

"What's it about?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Harry Potter," she said, dropping the scroll on his desk. It made a surprisingly heavy sound when it landed. "You know him fairly well, don't you?"

An image of Potter writhing under Draco on the desk in the Potions classroom, coming as Draco ground against him, flashed across his mind. "Not particularly."

"Rumor has it that you two are close." She raised an eyebrow. "You know what our lifestyle readers want, Draco. I want you to whip this article into shape, and make it something they want to read." She stood to walk away.

"Do you want it to be accurate?" he called after her. It wasn't beneath the Weekly to stretch the truth a bit.

She turned back to him. "Ideally, yes. But considering that Potter hasn't given a single interview since he defeated He Who Must Not Be Named, all we have to go on is information from people who know him." She paused, as if considering him for a moment, and then smiled sweetly. "Like you, for instance. You could probably add all sorts of interesting details about what Potter's been up to in the last few months."

Draco ignored the innuendo in her tone and picked up the scroll. "Let's be clear, then. You're offering me a chance to advance my career here if I can give you information on Potter that isn't publicly known."

Her smile tightened, as if she'd just swallowed a bug. "What the public really wants is to hear from Potter himself, and the paper that gets that interview will make a tremendous amount of gold. If you could get him to agree to an interview, perhaps as a personal favor -- I could guarantee you a lovely pay rise." She pulled her heavy robe off of a hook near her desk and wrapped it around her. The extra layer of clothing dampened the effect of her outrageous clothing, instantly making her seem much more reasonable. "I'm off to a meeting for the rest of the day. I'll look forward to seeing what you have for me in the morning."

She left him alone in the office then, and he unrolled the scroll. The article was titled Harry Potter: His Life After the War. That needed work, for certain, but he'd come back to it later. Whoever had written it started with the standard story of Potter's early life that everyone knew, then went on to a brief summary of the events of the day the Dark Lord was destroyed. He skimmed that part, as he was more interested in recent events.

The article noted that Potter had joined the Ministry's Auror training corps as part of a group whose N.E.W.T. requirements were waived in consideration of the events of the previous year. He had apparently become an outstanding junior Auror with a bright future, blah, blah, blah.

Draco paused to take a sip of his chai, then cast a reheating charm on it before taking another sip. Even with everything that had happened between them, Draco hadn't known what Potter did for a living. He hadn't even bothered to ask.

He skimmed down the page to Personal Life.

Though Potter has been linked with several women in his young life, including his longtime friend Hermione Granger, the woman he seems destined to marry is Ginny Weasley, the sister of fellow war hero Ronald Weasley. The couple are rather private, and have not been seen in public together in months, but a family friend informs our readers that a spectacular wedding may be in the works.

Draco smirked, and scribbled not bloody likely in the margin.

The article then went on about Ginny and her budding Quidditch career, and Draco set it aside. It was a piece of crap, basically. Marjorie was not interested in advancing Draco so much as she was in getting the scoop on Potter. Recommendation from McGonagall or no, she had likely hired Draco with that in mind. For all he knew, she had written the article herself.

He pushed away from his desk and rubbed at his temples with his fingers. Two months ago, he would have dished on Potter in a heartbeat, and would have not felt a bit guilty. He would have done anything for that raise, anything to get a little bit ahead on his rent, to have the money to buy himself a nice robe. But things weren't so simple now, and it wasn't just about Potter or Draco.

And at the end of the day, this was just another job, just another place that was temporarily making it possible for him to pay his rent. Why should he risk losing his --- he didn't know if he should call it a friendship or a relationship -- with Potter just for a slightly less annoying job and a bit more gold? He was as ambitious as the next Slytherin, but he was also lonely, and alienating the one man who'd showed romantic interest in him in, well, ever, seemed like a poor plan of action.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to ask Potter if he would give the Weekly an interview. He might even consider it, which could only help Draco. And if he refused, well -- it wouldn't be the first time Draco had been fired because of Potter. If he got a shag out of it, he'd call it even.

He stashed the scroll in a drawer and gathered his own robe. The Auror offices were in the Ministry's main complex, and as he had to stop by the records office anyway, he might as well pop in on Potter. The thought of seeing Potter's face being caught offguard by him for a change gave him a little thrill.

It was a short apparition jump to the Ministry, and then a long walk through the corridors to where Draco remembered the Auror department was housed, from his first job months ago as Owl Boy. He checked the directory posted outside the main door, and found Potter's office listed there.

The door was open, and so he walked in without knocking. Half a dozen desks lined the walls of the office, all of them piled high with books and stacks of paper. There were a group of people hunched over a table in the center, apparently deep in discussion. Potter was among them, but so was Ron Weasley, and a few other boys he recognized from Hogwarts -- none of whom he'd ever got on with.

He really should have sent an owl instead. He took a step backwards, but one of the men looked up from the table and saw him, and his eyes narrowed. They all turned to look at him then with expressions varying from suspicion to surprise.

Potter looked up last, and Draco at least got the pleasure of seeing him look genuinely shocked. His cheeks went a bit pink, and he was the only one to speak. "Malfoy. Hi."

Draco took a calming breath and attempted a smile. "Can I have a quick word?"

Potter ran a hand through his hair, something Draco was starting to realize he did when he was nervous. "Yes, of course." Potter crossed the room to him, and Draco saw the others exchange glances.

"Is there somewhere we could talk privately?" he whispered when Potter reached him, and Potter blushed even more.

"Let's see… We can step out into the corridor." It was quite busy with people, though, all of whom seemed especially interested in the fact that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were having a whispered conversation.

"Isn't there someplace a bit quieter?" Draco hoped he'd communicated what he really meant through his tone of voice.

Potter glanced up and down the corridor, and motioned for Draco to follow him. He opened the door to a small toilet, and gestured Draco inside.

When the door was closed (and locked, Draco noted) behind them, they were silent for a moment. Potter just stared at Draco, still visibly affected by his sudden appearance at the Ministry. Draco felt a bit of triumph at that, but he also found the sight of Potter so unsettled incredibly hot.

"I hadn't heard from you in a while," he said at last. "I decided to come looking for you first this time."

Potter did that nervous thing with his hand in his hair again. "I heard you left Hogwarts. I'm sorry I got you into trouble."

"I'm not," Draco replied, grinning, and Potter's expression relaxed. "I hated being there, and it was time to go. And I had fun… that night."

Potter smiled and leaned back against the door. "I heard you're working at Witch Weekly now. I would've come by, but I didn't want to get you sacked again."

"Just as well. They'd eat you alive if you set a foot in that building."

Potter's smile widened, and Draco felt a fluttering in his stomach. Merlin, he wanted to kiss that mouth.

"You still owe me a proper drink, you know." He stepped closer to Potter and leaned in, resting one hand on the wall next to him.

"So I do. What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing yet. Want to come over to mine when you get off here?" He smiled in a way he hoped was alluring.

Potter's eyes went dark, and his voice lowered a bit. "I usually go to a pub with some of the blokes here, but I can beg off tonight." The tension in the small room was almost palpable now. Potter reached out and grasped a handful of Draco's shirt, and tugged him closer. Draco leaned in, already feeling a twitch of interest in his groin.

There was a knock on the door just then, and they jumped apart. Draco shook his head, hoping to clear it. This was neither the time nor the place, but his dick didn't seem to care. It was almost bizarre the effect proximity to Potter had on him.

"I'm in flat 4C, above the apothecary in Diagon Alley," he whispered as Potter unlocked the door. "I'll be home around 5:00. Come over whenever you like."

*****

The knock at the door startled Draco, even though he'd been expecting it. He hadn't gone back to the office after visiting the Ministry, but had stopped by a market to buy a bottle of wine and some food, and then had headed home to have a shower and straighten up a bit. Deciding what to wear had nearly done him in, but he'd finally settled on a black shirt and grey trousers, and hoped he didn't look like he'd tried too hard.

He took a deep breath before opening the door, and his nervousness changed to another emotion altogether when he saw Potter standing on the other side. He'd obviously gone home and changed clothes since Draco saw him last, and he looked like he'd shaved as well.

"Come in," Draco said, and was pleased when Potter immediately shed his winter robe and draped it over a chair. Though going out for a drink was a possibility, he'd certainly hoped they'd stay in. "Wine?"

"Thanks," Potter replied, glancing around the small flat. "This is cozy. How long have you been here?"

Draco pointed his wand at the wine bottle and the cork popped up into the air. The bottle poured its contents into two waiting glasses, and Draco directed one to each of their hands. "Off and on, about three months." It seemed a lot longer than that.

Potter took a sip of wine. "I've been thinking of getting myself a flat. I'm living in my Godfather's old house at the moment, but it's not exactly homey."

"The Black Family house? I've never been there. Knowing my grandmother, I can imagine it's a bit bleak."

"To say the least," Potter replied, and smiled at him.

That smile sent a wave of wanting through Draco, and he had to lean back against the kitchen counter. He'd never thought of Potter as particularly attractive when they'd been in school together, but the sight of him standing there in the middle of Draco's flat, fashionable t-shirt stretched across his chest, black trousers hanging off of his hips, and his perpetually unruly dark hair looking almost artfully disarranged -- it all summed up to hot. And completely fuckable.

Potter's expression changed, and Draco realized he'd been staring for half a minute. Potter sat on the arm of Draco's shabby sofa, and the look on his face was definitely one of invitation.

Draco took a long drink from his wine glass, set it on the counter behind him, and took the three steps to the sofa. He took Potter's glass from his hand and set it aside, and then pulled him to his feet so quickly that their bodies collided. Potter's hands went to Draco's face immediately, pulling him in for a kiss.

"I've been thinking about this all day," Draco whispered just before their lips met. It had been all he could do not to wank himself into oblivion in the shower that afternoon. He'd been hoping Potter had the same plan for the evening as he did.

"Mmmmph," was all Potter said in reply, and he pulled Draco against him so hard that they both fell over the arm of the sofa and back onto the cushions. After that everything was a blur of hands and tongues and groans, and Potter was there beneath him on the sofa, his sofa, where no one would walk in on them or judge them or sack him, and they could do whatever they wanted. He couldn't remember ever feeling so free in his life. It was glorious.

His cock was rock-hard, and he felt Potter grinding against his thigh -- but this time they would do it properly. He wriggled a hand between them and managed to unfasten Potter's trousers, and then his own. Potter helped by pushing his own trousers and pants off, and then Draco felt a hand that was not his own wrap around his prick for this first time. He gasped at the sensation, different from his own hand, and oddly unexpected. He'd been so focused on what he wanted to do to Potter that he'd forgotten that Potter would likely reciprocate.

"I've been thinking about your cock in my mouth all day," Potter said, and slid off the couch. Before Draco had processed the words, Potter was on his knees on the floor between Draco's thighs.

"Shit," Draco whispered, and then Potter licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. Draco's head fell back against the sofa cushions -- if he watched this, he wouldn't last a minute. Potter licked a few more times, and then the head of his cock was enveloped in wet warmth.

The boys in school had always talked about getting head and how amazing it was. Draco had listened for tips on what blokes liked as much as what it might feel like to have his prick in someone else's mouth. They had never talked about this feeling of complete abandonment that washed over him now, or the way a swirling tongue and brush of teeth could make one's body go limp with pleasure.

Potter's tongue was working the head of his prick, probing under the foreskin and then sucking on it lightly, and Draco's eyes rolled back in his head. How Potter had got so good at this was a mystery, and one he'd contemplate later. For now his universe had shrunk to a hand stroking at the base of his cock, and another on his bollocks, and that tongue was swirling and licking and probing, and teeth and suction -- he felt like he was floating, and then he came much too quickly, arching up into Potter's mouth, his hands roughly clasped against Potter's head keeping that mouth right there. He was vaguely aware that he was groaning as he came, but he didn't care. He couldn't control it anyway.

"I hope you have silencing spells up," Potter said a moment later.

"Ha. I haven't even put up heating spells. My neighbors just learned a lot more about me than they ever wanted to know."

Potter was still on the floor, and he rested his forehead against Draco's thigh. Draco opened his eyes and realized Potter was wanking.

"Oh, no you don't," he said, sliding off the sofa and onto the floor. "At least let me touch you." He found Potter's cock and stroked, sliding the foreskin against the head in the way he liked it when he wanked.

"God," Potter groaned, his eyes closing and his head rolling back onto the sofa. Draco stroked fast, alternately watching Potter's face contort and his prick disappear into Draco's fist. Draco leaned in to kiss him, though it was more of a tongue-tangling snog than a kiss. Potter's hands clenched Draco's shirt, and Draco felt his prick get even harder in his fingers. A moment later Potter was crying out into Draco's mouth, arching his back and bucking his hips. Draco sat back to watch him come, amazed at the very idea that he had done this. He'd fantasized about Potter for years, and somehow he'd never spent much time imagining this particular moment. It had always been about putting Potter in his place, about seeing his enemy humiliated, and getting off on that. He'd been a child, though, and he hadn't understood the first thing about sex.

"God, I needed that," Potter said, flopping back against the sofa. "It's been a long time."

Better than never, Draco thought, but didn't dare say it aloud. He wasn't quite ready for Potter to find out he was Draco's first. Though it might become painfully obvious very soon.

He cleaned off his hand and retrieved their wine glasses, and then settled on the sofa. Potter climbed up to sit next to him and took his glass. They made a thoroughly debauched picture: both naked from the waist down except for socks, hair mussed, and sloppy satisfied grins painted on their flushed faces.

"That was quick," Potter quipped, swirling his wine glass a bit. "I was hoping we'd shag, but I didn't think we'd be done by 6:00."

"Are you calling us easy?" Draco replied, poking his thigh with a toe. "And who says we're done?"

Potter's eyes lit up at that, and he took a long drink from his glass.

Draco nodded his head in the direction of the bed, on which he'd cast an enlargement spell that afternoon. "Maybe on the bed next time. And I'm going to cast heating charms first."

They were silent for a moment, as if they were both taking it all in.

"Do your parents know you're gay?" Potter asked at last. He never seemed to waste time getting to what he really wanted to say. Draco liked that about him.

"I think so. I haven’t really told anyone, but people seem to know anyway."

"I haven't told anyone," Potter said, watching curtains form on the sides of his wine glass. "You're the only one who knows at this point."

"Me and all of Hogwarts," Draco snickered. At Potter's look of panic, he added, "Peeves made sure everyone heard about it. Why did you think McGonagall let me go?"

Potter had paled a bit. "I didn’t realize -- no one's said anything to me."

"It'll blow over," Draco said. "Well, unless you decide to make it official and start showing up with me in gay clubs."

"I can just see the headlines now." Potter shook his head, and Draco swallowed down a jolt of apprehension. He would need to bring up the interview at the magazine at some point, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Best to change the subject for now.

"Want something to eat?" He collected their empty glasses and set them aside.

"Something else, you mean?"

Potter's grin was wicked, and Draco couldn't help himself; he lunged for Potter and pinned him to the sofa with a kiss. Potter's body felt warm and right beneath him, and he couldn't imagine he'd lived without this for so long.

He was getting hard again, and Potter shifted beneath him so that their pricks were pressed together. "Shouldn't we try this on the bed?" Draco asked, though he made no move to get up.

"Next time," Potter replied. "Right now, I just need… like that, right there…"

Draco shifted onto his knees for more leverage, and Potter wrapped his thighs around him, and with a jolt Draco realized they were in position for something else entirely.

He kissed Potter again, and tried to imagine what it would be like to thrust inside him, into that tight arse, pounding into him over and over. The urge to penetrate was suddenly overwhelming, and he wasn't sure what to do.

"I want to fuck you," he whispered against Potter's ear, feeling his cheeks warm as he said it.

Potter gasped, but he didn't stop moving. He pulled Draco back into a kiss, and after a moment whispered, "All right."

The words were so soft they were nearly inaudible, and for a moment Draco was sure he had imagined them. He thrust against Potter harder, and crushed his face into Potter's shoulder. "Yes," Potter whispered, a bit louder this time. "I want you to fuck me."

And before he could think about what to do next, Draco came. It happened so quickly he couldn't stop it, and then he was lying in a sticky heap on top of Potter, thoroughly embarrassed.

Potter laughed, and it was a warm, friendly sound. Draco pushed himself to sitting and shook his head. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Potter replied, grinning up at him. "We have all night."

And many more nights, too. Draco didn't dare say it aloud.

"But in the meantime…" Potter tugged Draco's hand to his still-stiff prick.

"I can do better than that." Draco slid to the floor and contemplated Potter's cock. This was something he had only started fantasizing about recently, and his mouth was watering at the very idea. He didn't bother teasing; he simply swallowed Potter's cock and sucked. He massaged the shaft with his tongue, and pressed the foreskin against the head in little circles, something that Potter had seemed to like earlier. He inhaled the scent of him, and let the taste of him fill his mouth, and it was like nothing he'd imagined.

It didn’t take Potter long to come, and though Draco had plenty of warning, he didn't pull away. The sensation of semen flooding his mouth was a bit odd, and he had to force himself to swallow. He was mildly disappointed that it was over so quickly, but Potter let him keep sucking until his prick was spent.

They finally moved to the bed after that, and Potter helped him cast a few heating charms, enough to make the room more comfortable. They spent the evening and much of the night exploring each other's bodies, playing, experimenting with ways to make each other laugh and moan with pleasure. Draco had been reluctant to have anything near his arsehole, but Potter's fingers proved to be an exception. They found a good position in which they could suck each other at the same time, and Draco was surprised that taking it slow was just as much fun as hard and fast.

And around one in the morning, Draco pushed into Potter's body at last, and it was easier than they'd both expected. The feeling of that tight heat was amazing, and he hadn't been able to thrust very much before he came again.

"I can't believe we just did that," Potter said as they burrowed under the blankets, both exhausted.

"I can't believe I have to go to work in a few hours." Draco eyed the clock on the bedside table. "Maybe I'll owl in sick."

"Or well-fucked," Potter added. "You don't have an owl, do you?"

"A tiny wrinkle," Draco replied with a yawn. "Maybe you can teach me that flying note trick."

"You could use my owl. Or would that be too obvious?"

Draco laughed, and then sighed when he remembered the task Marjorie had set him. "Actually, that might make more problems for you than you want. They've been pressuring me to get you to come in for an interview."

Potter was silent for a moment. "What do they want to know?"

"Whatever you'll tell them, I imagine. They're not above making shit up, as you well know."

"Do they know about us?"

Draco rolled onto an elbow to look at Potter. "There's an us?"

Potter's eyes were closed. "Whatever this is. You know what I mean."

Draco didn't, but decided not to worry about it for the time being. "The rumors from Hogwarts will make it into the papers eventually. We should probably talk about how we want to respond."

Potter opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling. "Do you think I should do the interview?"

Draco paused. "The magazine would fall over themselves for it, and -- full disclosure -- I'd definitely be rewarded. But whether it's the best thing for you -- that's not a question I can answer. If you want to tell your story there, I can help make sure it gets told the way you want it. If you don't want to do it, I won't take it personally."

Potter yawned. "I'll think about it. Up for another go?"

Draco groaned. "I can’t believe I'm saying this, but no. I'm exhausted."

"Oh, all right," Potter said in mock exasperation. "I suppose I can hold out until morning."

That had gone much better than expected, and Draco was relieved. Marjorie would just have to wait another day for any news from him, and if she didn't like it, well -- the worst that could happen was not so bad. He'd been sacked five times already, and he'd survived.

He was asleep within two minutes, and slept better than he had done in years.

*****

[EPILOGUE]

Draco set the steaming cup of tea on the table and yawned, then settled into a chair. A picture of Harry smiled at him from the cover of the most recent issue of Witch Weekly, and he picked it up to admire it. The photo was a flattering one, even with the words "EXCLUSIVE FIRST INTERVIEW" dancing across his forehead.

He flipped to the article and re-read his favorite part.

When asked about his love life, Potter is much less forthcoming. His recent breakup with longtime girlfriend Ginny Weasley may have surprised many of our readers, but recent rumors that he may now be involved with the son of the infamous Death Eater Lucius Malfoy are nothing short of shocking.

"Draco Malfoy is close friend of mine," Potter says with a sly smile. "And that's all I have to say on the subject."

Potter's friends are equally tight-lipped, though one coworker acknowledges that Potter and Malfoy are seen together quite often. "I'm not saying there's anything going on there," our source tells us, "but who cares? Harry Potter deserves to be happy, and if it takes another wizard to do that, fine. We should all be happy for him, after everything he's done for us."

A warm pair of hands clasped Draco's shoulders and squeezed. "Are you reading it again?"

Harry stumbled toward the teapot and poured himself a cup. His pyjama bottoms hung low on his hips, and Draco was transfixed by the trail of dark hair that disappeared into them.

"My eyes are up here," Harry said with a grin.

"And they are lovely, but not my favorite part of you."

Harry leaned in for a quick kiss, and Draco pulled him into his lap, deepening it.

"I have to get to work," Harry moaned, though he didn't protest when Draco worked a hand into his pants.

"I want to have the taste of you in my mouth while I'm in that long, boring meeting this morning," Draco said. "Those advertising wizards are the worst."

Harry stood and grinned and Draco slid to his knees on the floor. "Only a week after your big promotion, and you're already complaining?"

Draco tugged Harry's pyjamas down enough to free his cock. "After all these weeks of amazing sex, you haven't learned a thing about me, have you?"

"I've learned more than you might expect. I -- oh, fuck yeah…"

Draco was tempted to stretch it out, but they did both have to get to work. Today was Friday, and they had all weekend to spend in bed. He worked Harry's prick with his tongue and fingers, and within two minutes had him on the edge of coming. Harry's hands grasped Draco's head and held him in place, and then Harry pumped his hips slowly, fucking Draco's mouth.

"That is so hot," he whispered, and then Draco took charge again, sucking until Harry's knees buckled and he collapsed on the floor.

"Give me a minute," Harry said breathlessly, sprawled on the floor by the table, his cock now lilting to the side.

"You can pay me back tonight." Draco wiped a hand across his mouth and grinned, then collected his things for the day.

"And you can spend the entire day thinking about it." Harry pushed himself to his feet. "Mind if I shower?"

"Mind? I'd appreciate it, actually."

Harry swatted at Draco's arse, and Draco caught his hand as he passed and pulled him back into a kiss.

"I will spend the entire day thinking about you," Draco whispered against his lips.

Harry's arms around him tightened for a moment, and then he pulled out of the kiss. He smiled and headed to the shower.

Draco wrapped his cloak about his shoulders. It was going to be a long day, but having Harry to come home to made it all worthwhile.

Home. He smiled, glanced around the tiny flat, and then closed the door behind him.

*****

[FIN]

Comments

[fireflavored.livejournal.com]

♥♥♥

Loved this story so damn much! The jobs were fantastic! I wept inside for poor Draco. :D

Also, I can finally thank you effusively for the awesome rec for The Page Eleven Wars! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!!

:D

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much!

Oh, the Page Eleven Wars was SO awesome! I adored that fic. ♥

[asherlev1.livejournal.com]

I just have to comment here to say this was my favorite story of the entire fest (er, that I read - but not to make that a qualifier, cos your story was pretty damn awesome anyway :D) !

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Aw, thank you so much! There were fics better than this, though, and I hope you had a chance to read them as well. ;-)

[valkyrie17.livejournal.com]

I enjoyed this at the time, but I suck at guessing. I enjoyed it just as much on re-reading:)

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Thanks for reading it again! I suck at guessing too, LOL.

[anie-chan.livejournal.com]

I don't remember if I left comment already. But it wouldn't hurt to write another one, would it?

I love your fic! I enjoyed reading it. Good job! *___*

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Aw, thank you so much! ♥

[prilimpimpim.livejournal.com]

Loved the tone of it. Your Draco is honest but not in a forceful exagerated way and Harry is entirely delicious (body and personality) - we can see it perfectly through Draco's eyes and words.
Thank you for this.

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I find Draco's POV really hard to write, so I really appreciate that!

[tipgardner.livejournal.com]

Of course I'm glad that you have cool spells and interesting objects and a lovely plot and great writing. But seriously? Girl, that is HOT!

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Hee! That's one of the most important things in the end, isn't it? :-D

[cherrysyllabub.livejournal.com]

I haven't read H/D in a long time, but I loved this!!!

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much for reading it, then!

[starlollie.livejournal.com]

Funny and very sweet :)

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[dirty-darella.livejournal.com]

Your story was one of my favorites! :D
♥

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Aw, thank you so much! I appreciate it. :-)

[hollys_tree]

I loved this fic. ♥

Also, THANK YOU that Draco didn't want his wand back!!!!! There are so many fics out there where he gets it back and it boggles me a little because there's no need for that since he's not the owner anymore and it wouldn't work the same way as it did.

Virgin!Draco discovering the pleasures of sex is also very, very nice! :)

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

I haven't read much H/D fic in the last few years, so I really had no idea how fandom was handling Draco's wand. I wrote what made sense to me, I guess!

I have a bit of a kink for inexperienced boys, hee! Thanks so much!

[nicevenn.livejournal.com]

That was delightful!

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Thank you! :-)

[ciel-vert.livejournal.com]

Oh wow, this is so great! I love stories about Draco getting back on his feet after the war. You write him so well, and your Harry is just adorable. The development of their relationship felt very real. I loved it. ♥

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! I wrote this so quickly that I wasn't sure how well the relationship development went, so I appreciate that!

[laocoons.livejournal.com]

Aww, Draco! So precious. I really loved essentially every aspect of this, especially the Department With the Longest Name Ever which just cracked me up.

I remember reading some of your stuff a few years ago, and it's nice to see that you're still a great writer. I haven't read too terribly much H/D after since maybe 2008 but this fic has reminded me of how much I love the pairing and the world.

In the interest of full disclosure though, I came here in a convoluted path of clicking on familiar usernames in a maze of recs for Pairing: Pendragon/Merlin, so I sort of cracked up a bit when I read Potter licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. Just because a phrase is well-used doesn't mean it's not effective though! haha.

Thanks for writing this!

[emmagrant01.livejournal.com]

I sort of cracked up a bit when I read Potter licked a stripe up the underside of his cock.

LOL! When I read that in Pairing Pendragon/Merlin, I was all, "Guilty!" I love that description, but I guess it's time to let it go. If it's gone the way of "velvet heat", I shouldn't write it any more. ;-)

Thanks so much for reading this after all this time. I keep coming back to H/D -- I think it's my all-time OTP!

[juushika.livejournal.com]

There's something gone a bit wonky with the sentence, "Draco took her in his arms pulled her close, and she pressed her face into his chest." Messy punctuation, maybe? Thought you might want to know!

This was lovely. It hit almost too close to home—Draco's awkwardness and displacement, I mean; I feel like I don't often see that in fic, because Draco is too often played as deliciously smug and slick. This has a wonderful rawness by comparison, and it makes his happy ending all the more meaningful—because he's worked hard, he's earned it. Nicely done.

[snottygrrl.livejournal.com]

am still catching up on hols fic (that i put on my kindle!) and just finished yours today. i loved the premise and it was great to see your writing again. i adored the way draco matured as he moved through the different jobs, and was v. taken with your narcissa. thanks heaps for sharing ♥ ♥

[goddessdel.livejournal.com]

This is amazing!

I can't decide what my favorite part of this story is - that it's from Draco's perspective or that Harry is the one determinedly making the first move.

It's just so sweet. It's adorable and sweet and loving - the whole tone of the story.

It just makes me want to cuddle it happily. For a post-war piece (and touching upon all that gently), it's just so uplifting.

And the ending is to-die-for-perfect. :D

[angelbabe_cj]

I'd forgotten I had this sitting around in my 'waiting to be read' bookmarks until today. I'm so sad I didn't get to it sooner. It's a fabulous fic and reminds me why I love H/D so much (I don't read much HP fanfic any more).

I love the succession of jobs and the little flashes of Draco's upbringing that we see. The ending is brilliant and I think my favourite bit was Harry saying that sex on Snape's desk was fulfilling a fantasy.

Thank you for such a lovely fic.