Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Written for;

OTP AU! Competition, Round 1. Pen-Pal AU.

AU Extravaganza - Pen-Pals.

The Getting Around Challenge - HarryLucius

Gringotts Prompts

Once Upon A Time - "If only your wits matched your looks."

WordCount Without AN - 2920

A Favourable Correspondence

Harry sat at the bar working on his paperwork when Hermione whirled in, the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.

"I've signed you up for the new dating service I was telling you about at dinner last week," was her opening statement, making him drop his quill as his eyes left his paperwork to glare at her.

"Why?"

"Because you've been single since we left Hogwarts and it's not good for you," she replied, looking at him as though he was a moron. He was quite familiar with that particular look, it was the one she aimed his way whenever they had this argument.

"Have you thought that perhaps I don't want a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend for that matter?"

"Of course I have. But you're lonely, Harry. We can all see it."

"If and when I want a partner, Hermione, I'm quite sure I can find one for myself. At the moment, I don't even have time for myself, let alone going through the hell that is a string of first dates with people who are only interested in being seen with the 'Hero.'"

"But that's the beauty of the service, Harry. It's a pen-pal service for all intents and purposes. And it's totally anonymous until you choose to reveal your identity."

"Which will be never, since I have no intention of using the service in the first place."

"Harry, please. Just give it a chance. If anyone owl's you, answer them. If you give it a month, I'll leave you alone, alright?"

"How about you leave me alone and I'll date when I feel like dating?"

"Please?"

Harry let out a long suffering sigh. "You're really not going to drop this unless I agree, are you? Alright, let me see the thing you put in the paper about me."

"It's called a profile. It's on the bottom row, second from the left."

Harry took the paper and scanned the 'profiles' quickly until he found his own.

Successful business owner searching for a partner

to share life with. Likes quiet nights in, meals out, and

good conversation.

Harry rolled his eyes, not even bothering to finish reading the ad. "You make me sound like a lonely, stuffy old bloke."

"If the hat fits," came a drawling voice from the doorway. Harry glanced over, not surprised to find Blaise swaggering through the club at a leisurely pace.

"You're late," Harry informed him, a touch of amusement in his voice. Blaise had been on time for work about twice since Harry hired him almost a year previous.

"It take time to look this good," Blaise informed him, slipping behind the bar.

"Hmm. If only your wits matched your looks."

"You're only jealous."

"Sure. That's what it is," Harry replied wryly. Looking back at Hermione, he nodded. "If I get any owls, I'll be polite and I'll give it a chance. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

Harry chuckled at her, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "I know you're only annoying me because you care, alright?"

"I am, and I do. Ron and George were talking about dropping in later, by the way. Don't let Ron get too drunk, he's got work in the morning."

"Yes mum."

She swatted at him, laughing when he ducked away. "See you later, Harry."

Dear Applicant 121,

That sounded very impersonal, didn't it? My apologies, but of course, I know nothing else about you. Your ad in the Daily Prophet caught my interest, not so much for what was said, but what wasn't said. Am I correct in believing you didn't write it?

I apologise if I am wrong in my assumptions, but it rather seemed like you were in quite the same boat as I. You see, my son has become rather insistent as of late, to see me settled in a relationship, and this is a last ditch attempt before he begins to 'set me up,' as it were. As I'd rather avoid that possibility if at all possible, I thought this was perhaps the better of the options available.

So, a little about me. I'm fifty years old, male, a successful businessman in my own right, as mentioned previously, I have a son from my previous marriage. I'm pure-blooded, though that matters little in the present climate, and while I would much rather be left to my own devices, I have found myself rather lonely on occasion, mostly in the evenings when the work is done and I'm alone in front of the fire with a glass of whisky.

While I'm sure you'll receive many owls, I do hope you'll give my submissive a little thought before you throw it away.

Yours sincerely,

L. A. M

Harry had been glancing at the letter whenever their was a lull at the bar, wondering about the author. At fifty, he was a little older than Harry would usually consider, but there was something about the writing that had caught his interest. Of all the letters he'd received (forty-four), it was the only one he was even considering replying too.

He knew it wouldn't take much investigating to find out who it was. Having signed off with what Harry was sure were initials, and mentioning his blood-status as pure, it wouldn't be too hard a task to find out who it was. After the war, the pure-blood population had been somewhat diminished, either to death or Azkaban.

He found himself reluctant to search though. He'd promised Hermione he'd give it a chance, and knowing who was writing to him so soon would surely defeat the object. Looking over it once more, Harry rolled his eyes at himself. He would reply to it, if only to settle his own curiosity.

Dear L. A. M

Thank you for your letter. You are indeed correct that I didn't submit the Ad to the Prophet. My best friend did it for me, without my knowledge of course. She has good intentions, even if they are somewhat misguided.

What she wrote was inherently true. I am a business owner, and I do enjoy nights in and meals out. What she failed to add was that I'm not particularly looking for a life partner right now, though of course if I was to stumble upon them, I wouldn't shun the opportunity. She wishes to see me as happy and settled as most of my friends are I suppose.

I'll give you a little more information, though I'm not going to tell you who I am just yet. I'm twenty four, male. I don't have children though I'm not averse to the idea of adoption. I'm a half-blood, though both of my parents were magical, and like you, I have found myself lonely on the evenings I don't work. With all of my friends pairing off, there aren't many nights out when I don't feel somewhat of a third wheel.

I spend much of my time working, too much if my friends are to be believed, though I do enjoy exploring new places. Travelling is one of my pleasures in life, and I hope to do much more in the future. Of the places I've visited thus far, Egypt is probably my favourite.

If you still find a correspondence between us to be favourable, I await your owl.

Yours,

H. J.

Dear H. J.

I must admit to being somewhat surprised that you replied to my owl. I am glad I didn't cause any offence with my missive. It has been rather a long while since I've courted. Your friend sounds much like my son, though perhaps something good could come of their meddling?

We seem to have much in common. I, too, enjoy travelling very much. I've seen a large part of the world, and of the vast amount of places I've been, there are many I'd like to return to. Venice is quite possibly my favourite of them all. The wizarding community there is simply wonderful.

I'm very glad you're not averse to the idea of adoption. Even if our relationship progresses no further than letters, children are a wonder that nobody should miss out on. I love my son very much, though I fear I haven't always been a good father to him. I am endeavoring to make it up to him now, though I know that somethings can never be made up for.

I made many mistakes as a young man, mistakes that will haunt me until I die. To save heartbreak further on down the line, I feel I must tell you that I was a Death Eater during the first wizarding war, and an unwilling one during the second. I've spent two days considering whether to inform you of this, and ultimately decided it would be unfair to both of us if I didn't.

It is important to have trust and honesty in any relationship, and I wouldn't like to start one by holding back the bad in an effort to woo you.

I would not be surprised, nor offended if you decided you'd like to cut ties now you know the truth, though I will not say that I would be happy with such an occurrence.

Yours Sincerely,

L. A. M

Harry showed the letter to Hermione the day after it arrived. He wasn't sure how to proceed, now that he was relatively sure who it was he was corresponding with. She read it over with a shrewd eye, looking back at him when she'd finished.

"Malfoy."

"That's what I thought. It could be a lower level Death Eater that we were never made aware of, but odds are that it's him. Now I'm unsure of how to go on."

"Do you want to write him back?"

"I don't know. He seems interesting, and he didn't balk when I mentioned I was a half-blood, but how much can a person really change?" Harry asked, taking the letter back and putting it in his pocket.

"You spoke for him and Draco at the trials," Hermione pointed out.

"I know. But that's another thing. I went to school with his son."

"Have you told him how old you are?"

Harry nodded.

"Then that obviously doesn't matter to him. Does it matter to you?"

"Can you imagine Draco's face? Ultimately, he forced his father to write to me."

"You and Draco get on now though, right?"

"I guess, but I'm also pretty sure that that wouldn't extend to me dating his father."

"You never know."

"It'd be an interesting introduction, that's for sure. I... Merlin. I don't know what to do, Hermione. Now I know who he is, I feel obligated to tell him who I am, and that'll just open a whole new cauldron of flobberworms. I mean, I effectively ruined the man's life."

"Actually I think you effectively saved his life."

"Depends who's view you're looking at it from."

"Keep writing to him, drop hints on who you are? I don't know, Harry. You clearly like him, it's written all over your face. If you wasn't interested, you wouldn't have showed me the letter."

"I guess."

"He seems genuine enough. It can't hurt to see what else he has to say, right?"

"Right."

"Or you can just not answer him, and no harm done."

"Or that."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to write him back. I think."

"You think?"

"I think."

Dear L. A. M

I apologise for the delay of this letter. I'm sure you understand that your last missive was quite the figurative bomb, and it took a while to ingest the contents and come to a conclusion. A conclusion is that despite your past, I find myself looking forward to your letters and I'd like to get to know the man you are now, rather than the one you were.

As you wrote in your letter, trust and honesty are very important, which is why I feel it is necessary to tell you that I am relatively sure of your identity. I hope that doesn't bother you too much, but I felt it wrong to continue writing with you under the wrong impression.

I'm still not ready to tell you of my identity, though I will tell you that I was on the opposing side of the war, and we have met. Like I said, I'd like to get to know the man you are now.

Yours,

H. J.

Dear H. J.

You have nothing to apologise for, I understand the need for contemplation before writing back. I hope it makes you happy to know that that was the only 'bomb' I had to drop on you.

I can't say I'm upset that you know of my identity. If you worked it out off the little information you had, we must have met under rather unfavourable circumstances, and I'm hoping that with time, you'll get to like the man I have become rather than the one I was before.

I completely understand your wish to keep your identity a secret, though I do hope you will indulge me with a little more information about your likes and dislikes. Shall we start easy? What is your favourite colour? And where do you wish to visit on your travels next?

Yours,

Lucius Abraxas Malfoy

With the confirmation of their suspicions, Harry continued to write to Lucius, and found himself enjoying getting to know the man. They shared little things, from colours and foods, to bigger things, like fears and dreams. After a month of further correspondence on an almost daily basis, Harry finally felt comfortable enough to tell Lucius of his identity.

He'd sent the letter three days prior and there was still no reply. Refusing to mope about, Harry got on with his day to day life, opening the club, bantering with Blaise behind the bar, and doing as he always did. Surviving.

"Your presence is required in the main bar, oh master," Blaise called to Harry, from where he was chatting with George in the VIP Bar.

"By who and what for?" Harry asked, frowning.

When Blaise didn't reply, Harry excused himself from his friends and walked through the passage that connected the bars. Sitting at the end, looking quite out of place, was Lucius Malfoy.

Harry raised his eyebrow at Blaise, who shrugged his shoulders and moved on to the next customer. Harry poured two glasses of the finest whisky he stocked and walked over to where Lucius sat watching him.

"Thank you," the older man murmured accepting the drink.

"You're welcome. I'm told you required my presence?" Harry said dryly.

"Yes. I... find myself at a loss, Mr Potter."

"Oh?"

"Yes. As to why you allowed our correspondence to continue, when you found out my identity."

"I enjoyed your letters. That's really all there is to it."

"I see. And the fact that I tried, on more than one occasion, didn't seem like a good idea to stop?"

"Look. I refuse to judge someone on a tattoo. If you were still that man then I wouldn't have given you the time of day, but you aren't. Or at least, in your letters, you aren't. If you don't like who I am, why are you here?"

"I didn't say I didn't like it, Harry," Lucius replied quietly, looking Harry in the eyes. "I just... I thought that you couldn't possibly be writing to me without an ulterior motive."

Harry shrugged. "You can believe what you want to believe. I meant what I wrote. I believe in trust and honesty. I have no reason to lie."

"No, I don't suppose you do. You could have anyone you wanted."

"But they wouldn't want me for me. They'd want Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Won, or whatever bullshit name they're calling me these days. I want someone who want's Harry. Just Harry."

Lucius smiled. "I want Harry, the man I got to know in the letters. Does that count?"

"It does."

"Then perhaps you'll allow me to take you to dinner tomorrow evening?"

"I'd like that."

"Oi, mate! You gonna help me serve, or spend the night flirting?" Blaise called from the other end of the bar, smirking wickedly at Harry when he glared.

"I haven't decided yet. Do what I pay you for and stop complaining, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah. Bloody hypocrite."

"Seen something you like, Blaise?"

"Hells yeah. You gonna let me take a break?"

"Give me five, alright?" Turning back to an amused looking Lucius, Harry rolled his eyes. "He's a bloody pain in the arse, but it looks like I have to get back to work."

"I'll pick you up from here at seven?"

"I'll be ready."

Leaning over the bar, Lucius brushed his lips against Harry's cheek. "I look forward to it."