A/N: Hello all! I apologize now for any SPaG errors, I have no beta! Also I know the timeline is askew from canon timeline but please bear with me! This will be a short, light hearted fic! I hope you all enjoy! Please review, they mean the world to me! ^_^

Chapter One

Ron was in a fit of laughter only interrupted by his hiccups induced from too much of Odgen's finest. Hermione, her hand massaging her swollen belly, glared between her husband and best friend. "You can't send him that. Harry, this is absurd!"

"Oh, but I can, 'Mione," Harry grinned. "I put my number in it, too. Anonymously, of course. Downloaded a couple of apps, added myself where necessary. This is going to be brilliant!" Harry chimed, cheeks flushed as he wrapped the brand new smartphone in bubble wrap.

"This is not how I meant to put the past behind you so you could work together without throttling one another. Sending Draco Malfoy a Muggle device for his birthday – he won't even know it's from you!" She protested.

"Hey. It's expensive as hell, 'Mione and I'm paying the bill for it, too! If that's not a gesture of kindness I don't know what is!" He smirked broadly. "I'm also sending it muggle post," he continued on delightedly, "Imagine Malfoy in a muggle post office picking this up!"

Ron's laughter turned raucous, he bent over in his armchair clutching his stomach. "This is bloody brilliant, mate! This has to be the best gift I have ever seen!"

"But what about charging, Harry? The phone will die eventually, probably before he even figures out how to use it," Hermione continued to find any bit of reason not to send it. She found the idea cruel. She was trying her hardest to get the two old enemies to work alongside one another, not continuously against.

Harry lifted up a rolled scrap of parchment. "I've left pretty basic instructions on how to operate it. Even Malfoy should be able to figure it out after a while. And I've given him that spell Justin taught us."

"You've really thought of everything mate, haven't you?" Ron cheered. "If he ever brings it to the office you have to promise to tell me immediately, it'll be too good to miss. And think of all the things you can send him! Harry! You've outdone yourself this time."

Harry took another lengthy sip from his Odgen's mixture, emptying the glass and pushing it across his best friends' kitchen table. "Now, what do I write in the card?" Harry and Ron broke into sniggers.

Hermione sighed, standing up and collecting her friend and husbands dirty glasses, frowning as she dumped them off in the sink. "How do I just know nothing good is going to come of this…"

XXXX

Monday's were everybody's least favourite day but most especially Draco Malfoy's. Not all Monday's but this particular one. "Who in Salazar's name is that?" Draco hissed as he peered out of his bedroom window, peering down at his front door.

Blaise Zabini came up behind Draco, looking over his shoulder. "I think those people deliver post."

"So, it's like a muggle owl?" Draco asked perplexed, eyes still narrowing at the man with a heavy bag slung over both of his shoulders.

"You're so bloody ignorant, you know that, right?" Blaise grumbled.

Draco harrumphed and crossed his arms. "And you are no fun now that you're dating a muggle."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I'll get it. It's probably from Sadie, anyway."

Draco turned from the window when the knock began rapping on the door and grabbed his light, summer robe. The Ministry of Magic crest shone against his breast, his last name scrawled boldly beneath it. "Oi! Malfoy! It's for you!" Blaise yelled shrilly from downstairs.

Draco paused with surprise. A muggle mail carrier. For him? He didn't even associate or know anybody, save acquaintances from work, who would know how to send anything via Muggle post. "That's what I get for buying a house bordering muggle London," he muttered to himself and swept down the two flights of stairs in his small, attached townhome.

When he came to the door the man he had been watching from above seemed smaller yet his bags heavier from up close. "Er, are you Dray-coo Malfoy?"

Draco's face contorted into a heavily displeased sneer at the sound of his name. He snatched the package from the outstretched arm as if touching him would burn his skin. "Yes I am he. You may leave," Draco bowed his head and turned to leave but Blaise, sniggering to himself, yanked him back toward the door. "What? Do you tip mail carriers, too?" Draco hissed in a barely audible, appalled whisper.

Blaise's face as alit with bemusement as he shook his head. "You have to sign here, sir." The mail carrier held out an odd device to Draco who looked at it for a few moments before reluctantly taking it and the strange, hard rubber quill. He wrote on the paper that was oddly lit on the device, his signature scrawled across the entire thing. "Have a lovely day." With that the mail carrier was gone, Draco blinking after him.

"What was that apparatus? What is he going to do with my signature?" Draco asked skeptically.

"It's just whoever sent it requested you signed for it, just to make sure it securely got to you specifically which is why I couldn't take it for you. Now, who the hell is sending you muggle post?" Blaise asked, his curiosity getting the better of him instead of his need to get to work on time. Neville would forgive him, he always did.

"I do not even know anybody that associates with the kind," Draco sniffed, his hand running over the poorly wrapped package. The brown paper was barely held together with a mess of red string. There was his name and address on it, nothing else.

Blaise elbowed his best friend and housing host in the ribs hard enough to bruise. "You know me. And stop talking about muggle's that way, grow up, Malfoy," he chastised.

Draco shrugged. Blaise knew he truly didn't care about pureblood purity anymore and he was even keen on a few certain Muggle contraptions and lifestyles, but that didn't stop him from feeling completely segregated from the Muggle culture and vice versa. "Come on then, open it already!" Blaise cheered him on.

Before he began to unwrap the rectangular, squishy parcel, Draco went into his kitchen and place it down on his gleaming, spotless marble countertops. He withdrew his wand, muttering under his breath as Blaise rolled his eyes and went off to brew a pot of coffee for the both of them. "Breakfast this morning?" he asked, knowing his friend refused to open any mail without checking for traps, curses or hexes first.

"I am not particularly in the mood. Coffee though, if you would."

"Already am. Merlin knows I don't want to face you after nine am without caffeine," Blaise teased as Draco shoved his wand back into his robe pocket and scrunched his nose disapprovingly at his friend.

"Scissors?" Draco asked. Blaise paused in filling the coffee filter and brought him over some scissors. He clipped carefully through the red strings and then sliced down the side of the package. A few pops were heard that at first alarmed him. Once the parcel wrapping paper was off, he stared confused at what appeared to be more cushioning. It was like little transparent bubbles. He had never seen such a thing before. He fingered it between his hands and then squeezed one of the bubbles curiously. It gave a satisfying pop that made him jump and reflexively smile altogether. "What is this?" he wondered aloud, popping another one.

Blaise was looking at it for a long moment before shrugging. "Looks like more wrapping. I'll have to ask Sadie what it is. Here, look," he reached out and turned the bubbles over in Draco's hand, there was a card taped to the underside.

"Happy Birthday, Draco," he read aloud and then clicked his tongue. "Too bad my birthday was last week."

"Muggle post is rather unreliable," Blaise pointed out, for the sake of whoever sent it. Though he tried to pretend he wasn't, he was more interested in the gift and the signature at the end of the card than anything else and that included coffee which he had now left to brew on its own.

Draco pulled the card of the envelope, inspecting the familiar, sloppy writing. His face was scrunched up as he examined it carefully. The front of the card was an oddly still picture of a little toddler boy holding a kitten, smothering it, almost. And the simple greeting of Happy Birthday written in somebody else's ink. "Dear Draco Malfoy, Thinking of you on your twenty second birthday. I hope all your wishes come true. I have left instructions for your gift inside the bubble wrap. If you have any questions, please feel free to message me. Happy birthday! P.S. I do hope this gets to you on time, muggle post can be truly unreliable."

"Who signed it?" Blaise asked too quickly, snatching the card from Draco's hands. "Well that's odd, there's no signature."

"At least we figured out it is a witch or wizard who sent it, considering their use of the term muggle," Draco deduced. "Bubble wrap. Odd thing," he muttered as he began to peel away the bubbles, resisting the strong urge to pop each one of them. When he got to the middle of it he found the promised note of necessary instructions along with a gleaming new telephone. It was small, thin and a bright green colour on the back side of it. He had seen these things before. Blaise had one similar to it but smaller, rectangular and black. He knew what they were though he himself had never touched one.

"Wow! Draco, that's the newest iPhone! Sadie just got one, too, but hers is pink!" Blaise huddled over it. Draco huffed, turning it over in his hands a couple of times, running his fingers across the seamless screen. He was never particularly interested in using one of these before, especially since there were only very few he knew who had them asides from the Muggleborns and very few others at the Ministry. He disliked how, when Sadie was gone for too long, Blaise would obsess over the lit screen and ignore all else around him. Draco found, from his small experiences with them, it turned people ignorant.

"Why would somebody send me a telephone?" Draco was perplexed by the entirety of it as he pressed the only button on the front part of the screen and it lit up, making his eyes go wide as he read the time, date and message that went across the screen telling him how to unlock it and that he had a message awaiting him.

"It's called a cellphone. Telephones aren't portable," Blaise corrected.

"It says I have a message. How do I look at it?" Draco asked, perhaps the person would reveal themselves in the message.

Blaise stood beside him now and instructed him on how to navigate to the messages. "It's from somebody named Evans. It says 'I hope you have fun with your new phone, Malfoy.' Do you know anybody named Evans?" Draco shook his head mutely. The device, like most Muggle devices, baffled him. But, just like the microwave, the coffee brewer and even the television, over time Draco learned how to adapt and figure out their odd inventions. "Whoever sent this to you has an odd sense of humour," Blaise remarked.

"What do you mean? You don't think it's a genuine gift?" Draco sounded offended.

Blaise chuckled. "No, I do, but they must think it's funny, too. To watch Draco Malfoy, the purest pureblood of them all, struggle over the mysteries of a cellphone. At least they were nice enough to leave instructions. But that phone is bloody expensive so whoever it was at least had some galleons to spare or didn't mind spending it on you."

Draco blinked. The thought hadn't occurred to him that this odd gift could be expensive. Now the desire to find out who the gift giver was, was even stronger. "Ah. Coffee," Blaise sighed elatedly as he poured himself a freshly brewed cup to go. "As much as I would love to sit here all day and ponder over who sent this to you, I've really got to get going or else Neville might not forgive me this time."

Draco snorted. "Longbottom always forgives you because he knows you will always be late. You work in a nursery for Merlin's sake, the plants can take care of themselves."

"They need just as much tending and care as a newborn," Blaise retorted. Draco always teased him for his choice in career. He thought perhaps at first it was because of who ran the nursery, that his boss and newly found friend was Neville Longbottom of all people, but it was merely because it was Malfoy. "At least I don't have to sit in an office all day sorting through files with Potter."

Draco forgot the phone entirely at the mention of the name as he groaned. "Thank the stars I only have to work with him once a week. He is the worst part of Monday's."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have picked a career chronicling the Ministry then?" Blaise returned. "What else would Potter become if not a goody-two-shoes Auror?"

Draco grunted in response and pocketed the phone along with its instructions. He really did have to get going unless he wanted to hear Potter berate him all morning. They left through the Floo Network one right after the other and as Draco landed in the employee entrance corridor of the Ministry of Magic, his hand was stuffed inside his robe pocket, running across the blank screen of the odd device as he made his way to Harry Potter's office.

Ever since his six months in Azkaban was served Draco spent all of two years clearing his name. There was initial battle with both the Ministry and Gringotts to reclaim what was rightfully his assets as his Father was serving life in Azkaban. His mother, now a recluse, stayed primarily in their summer home in Northern France. She had friends there, most unaffected by the War that she surrounded herself with. It made her happy, especially with the absence of Lucius. Draco would Floo to visit her every couple of weeks for dinner or tea but she was never quite as close to him as she used to be. Draco feared it was the resemblance to his father that distanced her.

After his name was cleared and all his assets were in their rightful order, he freed most of the House Elves save the few it took to keep the Manor in its current state. He was never sure why he didn't outright sell it, he owed nothing to the generations before him. His mother and he would spend holidays there together still. Perhaps it was the lingering of his father's presence in the corridors that allowed him to hold onto it. He decided to settle in a small home just large enough for himself. However, he hadn't expected his best friend to divorce his other friend so soon after their marriage and ask to move in. Blaise extended his visit to a seemingly permanent resident. Draco, though he would never admit it, was glad he no longer had to live alone.

He had very few career opportunities. He always wanted to pursue his interest in potions but instead he kept it as a hobby, his small lab set up in his basement. An opening at the Ministry proved perfect for him. It had been two years since he accepted the posting of Cataloguer. It seemed so trivial, so mundane, but Draco loved it. For the first two years he was a mere apprentice of Mrs Roberta Newhook. She was due to retire and had been the Ministry's cataloguer for fifty seven years. Draco would follow along with her to some of her weekly meetings but every Monday he would, thankfully, be left to his own devices of editing and filing the previous weeks' paperwork instead of joining her in the Auror department.

'Head Auror. Tch. Only Potter could become Head Auror so fast.' Draco took a deep, staggering breath and knocked on the closed, wooden door. Usually he would be stopped by a secretary, Granger, who technically worked for the Magical Creature Department but their department had been condensed and spilled out onto the second office floor of Auror's. It was another reason Draco hated coming up here. It was too damn busy all the time. Two departments under one roof. Granger's desk was situated just in front of the Head Auror's office and she always acted, without need, as secretary to Potter according to Mrs Newhook.

"Come in," Potter grunted from inside.

Draco sighed again. He really did dislike Monday's. Before entering he took the cellphone out of his pocket again and pressed the middle button. There were no notifications or new messages, the time and date shone up at him and he sighed, shoving it back into his robes. When he entered he immediately gaped. There were piles of papers strewn apart the office, filling cabinets some open, some closed and some that obviously hadn't been touched in ages due to the layer of dust upon them. Draco couldn't even see Potter's desk beneath the disorganized pile of things. Then there was Potter himself, sitting hunched over in a chair pushed off to the corner of the room, mulling over a piece of parchment paper.

Finally he lowered the paper and met Draco's appalled look with a smug smirk. "Malfoy, shut your mouth and the door, would you?"

Draco snapped out of his stupor and did just that, his mouth becoming a long, thin sneer. It seemed as though the years hadn't been particularly kind to Potter, at least in this light. His dark hair was unruly as ever and fell just above his shoulders now. Though he had finally performed a visionary correction charm, his eyes were heavily bagged. He was fit enough, being Head Auror and all, but otherwise he looked worn, thin and older than he should. His robe sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and revealed a long, wide gash that encircled his upper forearm. Draco stared at it curiously for a few moments.

Harry watched his old classmate carefully. Though Draco looked different he didn't at the same time. His hair was still perfectly combed, parted in the middle and fell just above his ears. It was platinum as ever, matching his fair skin that Harry could swear never saw the light of day. He looked aged but younger than his years, as if still a teenager, although his height made him tower over everybody else. He was still lean, not scrawny but in no way physically shaped, either. He followed the piercing grey eyes and their line of sight to his scar and sniffed. "Rogue werewolf last year. Bugger nearly got me," Harry said conversationally.

"It appears he did get you," Draco returned, crossing his arms at his chest as he remained unmoved from the doorway.

Harry found himself smirking. "I guess he did, but only just before I knocked that bastard right off his feet and arrested him."

"On a full moon? How did you manage to do that?" Draco asked. He was genuinely curious.

Over the years he had read a few stories here and there regarding the great Harry Potter and his triumphs over many evils but most he assumed were fabrications. Harry shrugged and returned his gaze back to his parchment trying not to appear smug that Malfoy of all people seemed impressed with something he had done. "Thing about werewolves and many other creatures like them, they live off of instinct and act on impulse. They never suspect the other party to be thinking two steps ahead."

Draco nodded slowly. A thick silence wrapped around the two of them for a few moments. Other than the courteous nod of the head as they passed one another by, this was the longest they had spoken since the Death Eater trials themselves. Draco shifted the weight of his feet, he didn't know where to begin and he also couldn't describe why he was feeling nervous. It was only Potter.

"I see why Roberta had to dedicate an entire day to organizing your department whereas most of the others only take a few hours," Draco commented.

Harry chuckled lowly. "I hate paperwork. I swear it will be the death of me."

Draco shook his head. "Did anybody ever tell you that you are melodramatic Potter?"

"That's rich coming from you." At first Draco thought those words were meant to harm but then he saw the small grin poking out around the corners of his lips.

Ignoring the comment Draco finally moved from his position by the door and sat down at the only other seat that wasn't covered in piles of books and folders or loose parchments. "Lucky for you I love paperwork."