A/N: So this is the final chapter of the story! Thank you so much for those who read and commented on it! :)

~CHAPTER 12~

All is Well…

As soon as they had Apparated in the "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn ward, a whole team of Healers had taken care of Draco. They'd cast the usual emergency check-up tests both Draco and Harry were familiar with, and lost no time treating the Ants bites. They gave Draco half a dozen different potions to wash the poison from his system and sent him to sleep.

Draco's bed was at the very end of the ward, in an isolated spot and Harry was very thankful for that. They were hidden by a light pink curtain that kept them out of sight of the general population of the Creature-Induced Injuries's ward.

Harry was filthy from the fight in the cemetery: even with the protection of his scarlet robes that he had discarded in the corner of the room, his clothes bore grass stains and traces of mud everywhere. Not to mention, of course, the dried, rusty trails of Draco's blood on his shirt.

Thankfully, though, a lovely blonde Healer had cast Protective Spells all over him to avoid him contaminating the whole ward. And of course, he'd washed his hands thoroughly, which was why he had no qualms running his fingers over Draco's face.

It had been a close call; the venom of the Ants had penetrated Draco's skin in hundreds of places. It was only when the Healers had taken care of it and that Draco was safe that they told Harry that with the quantity of poison Draco had in his body, he wouldn't have lasted five more minutes. Harry's legs had turned to cotton beneath him and he'd nearly collapsed from sheer terror.

Draco still bore the traces of what Frank and Mrs Devon had done to him. His right eye was even more swollen than back in the graveyard, but that was normal: within a few hours, Draco's eye would turn black before changing shades a few times and finally fading in a week or so. The Healers had done a great job cleaning the cut above his eyebrow and had removed all traces of blood from his face. His bottom lip was swollen and of a nasty bluish colour, but it wasn't too bad; they had avoided the worst.

Harry raked his fingers delicately in Draco's hair, stopping short when Draco's eyes fluttered open.

"Hey," Harry said gently. "Welcome back."

Draco blinked a couple of times and winced as he tried to smile.

"No, don't," Harry said.

"Stop cuddling me, Potter," Draco muttered. "I'm not your fragile girlfriend."

"Oh yeah?" Harry grinned. "And what are you, then?"

"Look at my face." Draco lifted a bandaged arm and drew a circle in front of his face with his finger. "I am your rugged, scruffy, manly boyfriend."

Harry laughed, a clear laugh that surprised even him. "Yeah, right."

"Where are they?" Draco winced as he tried to sit up. "Frank and his devilish aunt?"

"Blaise and Susan were taking care of them when I left for here with you."

Draco nodded. "What happened?"

"You mean, after you very successfully cast your first wandless spell?"

Draco's mouth curled up in a smile. "Of course I did. I've always known."

Harry ran a hand along Draco's jaw, being careful to avoid the sensitive spots on his face. "It saved us."

"You do know you don't have to flatter me to get me into your bed?"

Harry laughed again. "God, it's good to have you back."

Draco reached for Harry's face and stroked the back of his hand on his cheek. "I was never gone."

Harry's smiled dropped as their fight from the morning—and God, that seemed to have happened days ago, not just mere hours—came back to the front of Harry's mind.

"Look. I'm sorry." Harry leaned in Draco's hand. "I swear I didn't mean to—"

"I know," Draco cut in.

"You do?"

Draco nodded. "I was angry. And I still think you were an arse for spying on my father behind my back." Harry opened his mouth to reply but Draco pressed a finger against his lips. "But you did what you had to do. Next time, just let me know. We're partners, aren't we?"

Harry took Draco's hand in his and pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles. "You know I'd trust you with my life," he murmured against Draco's skin.

"That wouldn't be a very smart thing to do."

"Well." Harry chuckled. "I've never been very smart, as a certain someone kept telling me during school."

Harry entwined their fingers together, and pressed another kiss on Draco's fingers when a loud voice had him pause.

"I demand to see my son!" Lucius's unmistakable drawl made itself heard from the other end of the ward.

Harry made to release Draco's hand, but Draco didn't let go of him.

"No," he said, shaking his head carefully. "I don't care what he thinks."

Harry let out a breath. "Okay."

The curtain surrounding Draco's bed was pulled open quickly, and Lucius Malfoy appeared, confusion written all over his face.

"What on earth is—" Lucius said, a hand still on the curtain as he took in the scene of his only son, bruised and battered, holding hands with Harry. He lifted an eyebrow in that haughty manner of his. "This…?"

Something uncertain passed through his eyes as he struggled to make sense of what was going on. He didn't have time to say anything about it though, as Narcissa rushed to Draco's side.

"How are you, darling?" she said, running the back of her hand over his forehead as she took in the damage.

"I'm fine, Mother." Draco huffed. "Stop fussing."

"May anyone dare enlighten me on the fact that my only son is currently holding hands with Potter?" Lucius spat.

"Honestly, Father," Draco smirked. "If you still haven't figured it out by now, I think it's high time I take the lead of this family."

"Draco!"

"We're together, Harry and I," Draco said in a bored tone. He winced again as he tried to roll his eyes and probably realised it was pretty painful when one had a cut on the eyebrow. "Get over it."

"Is that so, then?" Lucius asked the room, a mix of confusion and hopelessness on his face. The theatrics in his gestures reminded Harry strongly of Draco. "My son is queer, Potter is queer, they are queer for each other? Everybody is queer now, these days?"

"I don't know, Dad," Draco said, a hint of cheek in his eyes. "Anything you'd like to share with us?"

"Draco, that is enough!"

"Father," Draco said, exasperation colouring his voice. "I've just been beaten and poisoned, I look like I've just tried to kiss the Whomping Willow, and the only thing that bothers you is that I'm holding hands with Potter? Seriously?"

"But we had an arrange—" Lucius stopped short, his eyes fluttering shut before his knees gave in beneath him and he collapsed gently on the floor of the ward, as if in slow motion.

"Wha— FATHER?" Draco said, letting go of Harry's hand as he sat up.

A loud snore coming from Lucius' mouth reassured him instantly.

"I am sorry, darling," Narcissa said as she surreptitiously put her wand away in her sleeve. "But your father was becoming really annoying, don't you agree, Mr Potter?"

Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers as he processed the information. "Er…"

"You don't have to answer that," Draco said before turning to his mother. "Mum, you can't do that every time Dad annoys you!"

"And pray tell me why not, Draco?" she said, her blue eyes piercing him.

"Because…" Draco waved his bandaged arm in the air. "Because…" He let his hand drop back to the thin blanket of the hospital. "I don't know."

"Exactly." Narcissa smiled. "So, Mr Potter, I guess I have to thank you for saving my son's life? Again?"

"Hey!" Draco said indignantly. "I'm the one who saved us! I Summoned my wand!" He folded his arms on his chest. "Why is it always Potter who gets all the credit?"

"Oh, thank you very much, Draco, that was an excellent rendition of your twelve-year-old self."

Harry couldn't help laughing at that and Draco glared at him before turning back to his mother.

"Mum!"

"Anyway…" Narcissa cast a loving glance at her husband. "I suppose it is time I bring him back home." Right on cue, Lucius let out another loud snore.

"Finite!" Narcissa said, pointing her wand at Lucius still sprawled on the floor.

Lucius blinked a couple of times, and frowned as the reality around him seemed to gradually make sense again in his mind. He stood elegantly and turned to his wife. "What was I saying?"

"Oh, I can't remember," Narcissa said, taking him by the elbow. "But it is time for us to say our goodbyes."

"What about Draco?"

"I'm a big boy, Dad, and Harry is here to take care of me should I need anything."

Lucius cast a deadly look at Harry, his lips pursing in disgust. "Oh, yes. I had thought for one blessed moment that that piece of information was a figment of my imagination."

"You don't have an ounce of imagina—" Draco started but his mother cut him in.

"Let us go, Lucius. You can tell me all about your frustrations when we are back home," Narcissa said as she gently pushed him beyond the curtain. "And I will pretend to listen to whatever you will be ranting about," she added under her breath, so that Lucius wouldn't hear her. Harry's eyes widened in shock, and he didn't know if it was better for him to laugh or just pretend he hadn't heard anything. "Good bye, Draco." She pressed a kiss to Draco's forehead and turned to Harry. "Please take good care of my son, Mr Potter."

Harry nodded. "I will."

She smiled. "Good." And she disappeared after her husband.

When Harry was sure they were gone, he turned to Draco. "What the hell has just happened here?"

Draco frowned and winced again at the pain from his brow. "What do you mean?"

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. "Your parents?"

Draco ran his fingers over Harry's forearm, tickling him lightly. "What about them?"

"Are they—" He cuffed a hand in his hair. "Are they always like that?"

"Well, yeah?" Draco stopped his ministrations. "What is wrong with you, today?"

"Huh—" Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Nothing. I mean…" he looked at the spot where the Malfoys had been standing not a moment before. "I've never imagined them like that."

"Like what?"

"I mean, your mum, she's— she's…" Harry struggled to find the right word. "Surprising."

Draco shrugged. "Well, she is my mother, what did you expect?"

Harry smiled. "True."

"And now," Draco said, pacing the floor of their office dramatically, "I really can't see how this Auror of the Year Award can escape me. I have, after all, managed to catch a couple of evil murderers, using a very difficult to master wandless spell, all by using my sharp intellect and sacrificing this gorgeous body to the cause. If that doesn't make me the recipient of the Auror of the Year Award, I really don't know what does."

Harry smiled over his report, as he put the final touch to it, just one week after they'd put an end to Mrs Devon and Frank's killing spree. "I'm glad, once again, that my presence has not prevented you from stopping Mrs Devon and Frank."

"Well," Draco said, pausing in front of Harry's desk. "You haven't been of great help, but I suppose you have your use when it comes to writing reports and maybe—" He cleared his throat and Harry looked up at him. Draco avoided Harry's eyes as he mumbled quickly. "Saving my life."

Harry leaned back in his chair and smiled smugly. "What was that again?" he asked innocently, tilting his head slightly to the left. "I didn't get that last part."

Draco rolled his eyes, and said through clenched teeth. "Are you really going to make me say it again, Potter?"

"Hm, maybe?"

"Fine." Draco sighed exaggeratedly, bracing his hands on Harry's desk. "You may have proved useful at one point for once in your life."

Harry licked his bottom lip. "Come over here, Malfoy," he ordered, grabbing Draco by the collar of his shirt, bringing his face closer to Draco's. "I've saved your sorry arse again, you twat." He smiled, and stopped Draco from answering by pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Well, it was in your best interest," Draco retorted. "If I recall correctly, you certainly are very fond of my sorry arse."

"Really?" Harry said as he had Draco lean closer for another kiss.

The knock on the door had them once again pull abruptly from each other just as Blaise entered the room.

"Malfoy?" he said without preamble. "The big boss wants to see you in his office, now."

"Shacklebolt?" Draco said in a surprised tone. A wide grin formed on his face as he turned to Harry. "What was I telling you, Potter?" he said as he went to grab his Auror cloak on the stand. "This Auror of the Year Award is mine! Finally I get to have my talents recognised!"

He fumbled through the pocket of his trousers and took out what looked like a badge Harry had never seen before.

"What's that?" Harry asked, standing up from his chair and walking closer to Draco.

"That, Potter," Draco said as he magically pinned the badge to his cloak, "Is the Malfoy's crest. Reserved to the most rewarding Malfoys," he added proudly.

"Looks a bit rusty," Harry remarked.

Blaise chuckled. "That's because it's been a while since a Malfoy has been rewarded for anything."

Draco cast a deadly glare at Blaise and turned back to Harry. "How do I look?" he asked. "I mean," he added before Harry could answer. "I know I look stunning as always, but is that enough? What about my hair?" He ran a nervous hand in his hair. "Does it look as good as it always does?"

Harry smiled and reached for a strand of blond hair Draco had just ruffled and put it back into place. He swiftly took his hand away when he realised what he was doing in front of Blaise, who looked puzzled by the gesture, but didn't say anything.

Harry cleared his throat. "There. All done."

"Thank you, Potter," Draco said as if nothing had just happened. "Zabini, let's go."

A sigh of relief escaped Harry's lips when the door closed behind them and he went to sit back at his desk.

Harry was reading the last paragraph he'd written in his final report on the Jugson's case when a red memo—the ones sent by Kingsley himself—landed on his desk. Kingsley asked him to come in his office immediately.

Harry briefly wondered if it had anything to do with the case, or if Draco's presence in the Minister's office was the reason Kingsley wanted to see him.

He went through the corridors at a brisk pace. As he turned the corner in the corridor leading to Kingsley's office, the very recognisable drawl of Draco reached him. "I can perfectly well take care of myself," Draco was saying furiously as he stormed out of Kingsley's office. "I don't need anyone to do so for me," he shouted at Kingsley over his shoulder.

Draco flinched as his eyes met Harry's but his face shut again and he left without another word. Harry hadn't known what to expect coming here, but he had certainly not been prepared to hear Draco snap angrily at the Minister for Magic, of all people.

Kingsley was rubbing his face in his hands when Harry knocked on the still opened door. "Come in, Harry," he said, schooling his features. "Please take a seat."

"Thanks," Harry said, closing the door behind him and sitting in a very comfortable brown armchair that was still warm from Draco's body.

Kingsley sighed. "I suppose you've just heard Malfoy?"

"Well," Harry said, resting his elbows on the armrests. "He was quite difficult to ignore." He smiled apologetically. "May I ask what's happened, sir?"

Kingsley sighed again heavily. "Of course, you may, Harry." He leaned back in his chair. "Malfoy was basically angry at me for displaying a piece of information about something that's been going on for quite a while in the Department, without my knowledge."

Harry frowned. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not sure I'm following you."

Kingsley nodded. "I'll come to that in a moment," he said, before taking a deep breath. "But first there are a few things you need to know."

Harry leaned forward as close to the desk as he could, both hands resting on his lap.

"When I became Minister," Kingsley started, and Harry's eyebrows shot up in his hair. Did he really have to go back that far? "And yes, Harry. I do need to go back that far."

"Huh." Harry scratched his head, puzzled. Was Kingsley reading his mind? He brushed the ridiculous thought away and took his attention back to him.

"When I became Minister," Kingsley said again, "The world, our world, was in complete shambles."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

"I was taken in a whirlwind of decisions to make in a matter of moments, most of the time barely having time to think things through at all."

"Yes," Harry recalled. "The first few days after the battle were pretty intense."

"They were," Kingsley agreed. "The most urgent thing to do at the time was—"

"To catch the Death Eaters who had deserted the battlefield as soon as possible to avoid a massacre in retaliation of Voldemort's death."

"Exactly." Kingsley had a small smile. "If you remember well, those were terribly busy and strenuous days, and I, among other people of course, was particularly under pressure."

Harry nodded. Of course Kingsley had been. The future of the Wizarding World lay in his hands, after all. There was all the aftermath of the war to deal with, the rebuilding of Hogwarts to organise and set into motion so that the school year could start properly, and of course, taking care of the dead and of their families.

"I don't mean it as an excuse of what I did back then, or of the choices I made, but merely as an explanation of the decisions I had to make at the time."

"I know you did your best with what you had, sir," Harry said encouragingly.

Kingsley smiled. "You've always been very loyal to me, Harry, and I can't tell you enough how much your support has meant to me. And still does." Kingsley leaned forward and his smile faded. "As you very well know, the DMLE was particularly touched during the battle, losing a huge number of Aurors and fellow members of the Order of the Phoenix," he paused, and Harry's heart clenched at the memory of Lupin, Tonks, and Fred, of course, lying still on the cold, hard floor of the Great Hall.

"Meaning you had a huge number of people to replace," Harry recalled.

"Yes." Kingsley took a breath. "I knew it was particularly important for me to have a strong Head Auror, since I wouldn't be able to be everywhere. At the time, Robards really was the best choice possible." He paused. "He was an experienced Auror, a solid one, and I knew I could rely on him to rebuild what was left of the Auror Department. Besides," Kingsley added, "I won't lie and say there were many reliable candidates for the post. I'm saying this, because it's important for you to know that what I did at the time, and what resulted from it, was always meant to bring stability and peace."

"I know," Harry said. "I know you did your best. And it worked," Harry added hastily. "Mostly."

Kingsley smiled again. "As always," he said, "I appreciate your honesty."

Harry nodded. "Sir."

"But as you know, it didn't exactly go as well as I had planned." Kingsley's face shut down. "I trusted Robards, I really did, but what I hadn't taken into account is that opening the Auror corps to a wider range of people would bring more chaos than peace in the department."

"Are you talking about Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Yes and no." Kingsley grabbed a quill on his desk and started playing absentmindedly with the feather, running his fingers on its length.

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned.

"I don't regret for one second accepting Malfoy, or any other young, former Voldemort sympathisers among our ranks. As you know, we selected them carefully, and made sure they were sufficiently supported so that this experience would turn into a positive one for everyone. I believed then—and still do today—that it is important to set an example."

"And time proved you right on that," Harry said. "I mean, Malfoy and the others have thrived in the Department, and contributed to it in a positive way." Harry didn't know much of the other two—unMarked, unlike Draco— former Voldemort followers, but he did know that Draco had worked much harder than everyone. That had been his strength of character, and his unmovable perseverance that had led Harry to see Draco under a different light, far from the cowardly teenager he had been.

"They have. But unfortunately, not everybody agreed."

Harry's heart beat faster, but he said nothing.

"Robards hired a bunch of new people, thus creating his very own close circle, people devoted to him."

"Like Smith."

Kingsley nodded. "Like Smith, yes." He sighed. "I wasn't opposed to it, not formally. After all, it was important for Robards to surround himself with people he trusted. I did know what it meant to be Head Auror, and the importance of having a solid, united team of people around you. But unfortunately," Kingsley said, grabbing the quill and observing it closely, "I had not anticipated what would come out of it. I didn't see it coming. I mean, I wasn't naïve, I knew it wouldn't be simple to give the DMLE and particularly the Auror Department a new orientation. I also knew that not everybody in the department saw things as you and I saw them regarding second chances, evolution and redemption. I was aware of some sort of a more conservative group of Aurors who mainly disagreed with my policy—they'd been there a while, after all, and had voiced their disapproval many times under me already. But I thought it was sane to have an opposition of some sort." He dropped the quill to the desk again. "I had so many other things to deal with that I regret to say, Harry, that I probably wasn't as attentive as I should have been."

"Sir," Harry cut in. "Kingsley." He looked into Kingsley's eyes. "I understand."

"I know you do. But there are things you are not aware of yet. And I'm afraid you won't see me quite in the same light when I tell you what's happened right under my nose."

A shiver ran through Harry's spine at Kingsley's words. "What's happened?" he asked.

"A small group of those conservative Aurors who thought I was being too lenient with the new recruits took it upon themselves to restore order."

Harry's eyes widened. "What?"

"You heard me."

"How?" Harry said.

"Well, for one, they had Malfoy and the ones with the same past go through humiliating monthly tests."

"Monthly tests?" He frowned. "Monthly tests?" he repeated. "But I mean, I would've known if Draco had gone—" Harry swallowed hard as realisation sank in. "Oh God," he said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his face under his glasses. "The Top-Secret Missions."

"What was that?" Kingsley asked.

Harry ignored him, as a cold anger slowly made its way up his body. "What were those tests about? You said they were humiliating?" he managed to say calmly.

"Yes. Very much so." Kingsley scrutinised Harry as if he was afraid of Harry's reaction. "There were regular full-body examinations, and also…" Kingsley trailed off. "Also mind examinations."

"Mind examinations?" Harry nearly jumped out of his chair. "Do you really mean to say—"

"Legilimency, yes." Kingsley said sadly. "I've heard Veritaserum has been used in several instances as well. Illegally, I shall add." Kingsley sighed.

"Who did that?" Harry asked, managing to hide the tremor in his voice. He wasn't as successful with his hands though. They were shaking on the armrests.

"Well, it was a handful of people, but the person at the origin of those tests, and the one who talked the others into it, was Smith."

"I knew it," Harry said, running a hand in his hair. "Fucking hell."

"Harry," Kingsley said gently. "Please know that Zacharias Smith has just been suspended and will remain so until his trial."

"Good," Harry said dryly. "I just can't believe he would go as far as—"

"I know." Kingsley waved a hand in front of him. "Again, I'm sorry I didn't see any of it."

"That's all right." Harry sighed. "I didn't see it either."

"There is more," Kingsley said, slitting his eyes slightly.

"What?" Harry braced himself.

Kingsley took a deep breath. "Now that Smith and a couple of others are out of the picture, I need someone to take his place and, well, give Robards a hand."

Harry nodded.

"I need someone reliable," Kingsley went on. "Someone who has positive views and principles. Someone who has a vision for the department. And above all, I need someone I can trust."

"Sir." Harry frowned. "What are you—"

"Harry." Kingsley looked straight into Harry's eyes. "I want you to take Smith's place and become Assistant Head Auror."

"But—" Harry said. "Sir, I'm not sure I'm qualified enough to—"

"Because Smith was?" Kingsley asked with a smirk.

"Fair point," Harry replied. "But still, have you thought of what the others Aurors will have to say about that?"

Kingsley shook his head. "Don't worry about that, I'll take care of it."

"And what about Robards?"

"Between you and me?" Kingsley enquired with a little smile.

"Of course, sir."

"Let's say Robards's days at the head of the Auror Office are counted," Kingsley said. "He is aware of the fact the Ministry has been less than impressed by his department's policy over the past years, and knows he is very likely to retire within the next couple of years." Kingsley leaned forward. "Which should leave him enough time to train the person who will eventually take his place." He winked at Harry. "Now if you'll excuse me, Potter, I still have a lot to do and I'd really like to be able to spend the weekend fishing on that lake rather than dealing with a pile of dossiers."

"I—" Harry's thoughts raced through his mind. He would become Assistant Head Auror. He would be able to make real changes in the department. He wouldn't feel as trapped in it as he felt with Smith and Robards at its head. It wouldn't be easy working with Robards, but it certainly would be interesting, even more so if what he learned led him to— He discarded the thought immediately as another one took its place in his head. Becoming Assistant Head Auror meant he wouldn't be partnered with Draco anymore. He wouldn't be partnered with anyone anymore. "I need to think about it," he finally told Kingsley. "If that's all right with you."

"Of course. Take your time to think about it, and tell me what your answer is on Monday."

"Thanks," Harry said, standing up. "Thank you for your trust, sir."

"You're very welcome, Harry."

Harry had certainly not expected to hear what Kingsley had told him. He couldn't believe that Draco had been subjected to all kinds of humiliations without telling Harry about them. He briefly wondered if Draco had been threatened or blackmailed in any way, but shoved the thought away: it was way more likely that Draco had resented the idea of Harry just knowing about it, and even worse, acting on it. Draco had his pride, and it involved dealing with his problems on his own. He'd learned the hard way not to let anyone dictate his actions, and had for a long time.

Harry's thoughts accompanied him all the way back to his office. As he passed the Head Auror's office, he couldn't help noticing that Smith's door was open. The temptation was too strong, and he peered inside.

Smith was packing his belongings in large cardboard boxes, angrily shoving the items from his desk into them, his face distorted in cold anger.

He must have felt Harry's eyes on him because he lifted his head, and pure fury burned in his eyes. He didn't say a word but grabbed his wand and slammed the door in Harry's face.

Harry couldn't hold back a smile.

Seeing Smith like that made Harry so happy that once he'd reached his office, he had almost forgotten all about Draco's angry outburst. As he pushed the door to their office, Draco's face immediately told him all there was to know: he looked positively better and less upset than he'd been earlier on. Blaise's presence in Draco's chair probably explained Draco's better mood. Harry let out a breath of relief and stepped in.

"Potter," Draco said in a low voice, shuffling his feet as if he didn't quite know what to tell Harry.

"Hey," Harry said gently.

"Oh no," Draco snapped. "Don't you dare fucking start coddling me again. I am not your damsel in distress."

"I know," Harry retorted, hanging his cloak on the stand before walking to Draco's desk.

Draco jumped on it and nearly knocked over the small pot containing the ink for his quill.

"Interesting conversation with Shacklebolt?" Blaise asked in a detached manner that didn't fool Harry.

Harry ignored him and turned to Draco. "Why didn't you tell me? About those monthly sessions with Smith?"

Draco shrugged. "I did."

"No you didn't," Harry replied dryly.

Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Yes I did," he said, emphasising the last word. "You just chose not to believe me," he added in a low, almost menacing tone. "But I did tell you."

"When?" Harry insisted. "When on earth have you told me about those—" Harry felt the blood leave his face at once as it came back to him. "Oh my God." He felt his legs wobble and leaned against his desk. "Oh my God, Draco, I'm so sorry."

"Well, you'd better be," Draco said again coldly.

"But why did you have to tell me in such a casual manner?" Harry said, shaking his head. "All the other reasons you gave me were each more ridiculous than the last. I mean, one hundred and one Dalmatians, seriously?"

Draco's face softened at the recollection and Harry held his breath. It was one of those make or break moments again.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk," Harry finally said.

"Yes, you were," Draco said, jumping from the desk and leaning against it, facing Harry. "You were a massive jerk."

"Hey, I've just apologised!" Harry retorted, offended.

"Well, of course you have," Draco said, a small smile slowly curling up the corner of his mouth. "That was the least you could—"

Whatever Draco was about to say was forgotten as Susan Bones, Blaise's partner, opened the door. "Zabini, get your lazy arse over here," she ordered him. "There's work to do and if you think for one second I'm going to do it for you, then you're deeply delusional. Which wouldn't be much of a surprise," she added sternly.

Blaise was on his feet a second later. "I'm coming. I'll be right here," he told her, like a little child caught with his hand in a cauldron full of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

Susan rolled her eyes in exasperation, let out a very loud, annoyed sigh and left, slamming the door behind her.

Draco turned to Blaise the moment she was gone, a big, smug grin on his face. "Oh my God, Zabini," he said, his voice filled with glee. "You are so in love with her."

"Am not," Blaise retorted.

Draco's smile widened. "Are too."

"Well, you're one to speak, Malfoy," Blaise countered.

Draco's smile faltered, but he managed to school his features rapidly enough. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Draco." Blaise shook his head. "Remember Pansy's grandmother?"

Harry frowned. Draco narrowed his eyes, before answering prudently. "Yes?"

"Remember when we turned her cat green right under her nose and she didn't even realise it was us?"

Draco's smile widened at the recollection. "Ah yes! It's those terribly badly-behaved Muggle children again," Draco said in a mock, old lady's voice. "She certainly wasn't perceptive, Pansy's grandmother."

"And yet," Blaise said too smugly for Harry to be entirely comfortable. "I'm sure even she would be able to notice what is going on between the two of you."

It was as if someone had hit Harry hard in the chest, expelling all the air from his lungs.

"What?" Draco asked in a breath, his smile gone as abruptly as it had graced his features a moment before.

"I don't—" Harry was only able to say.

Blaise's smile was so big it illuminated his whole face now. "Oh mates," Blaise said, looking much too proud of himself now. "If you think the two of you are in any way being subtle about what is going on between you, well let me tell you that your very high grade at your Concealment and Disguise test is at best overrated. You are about as subtle as the Giant Squid in the Prefect Bathroom."

For once in his life, Harry was berated at the fact Draco was as speechless as he was.

Blaise went on. "Oh come on," he said, rolling his eyes. "It was so bound to happen. I mean, this little thing between you has gone on for years. I'd say it's fucking high time, don't you think?"

"Years?" Harry finally managed to articulate.

"Yes, years," Blaise replied. "I don't know about you, Potter, because we weren't exactly moving in the same circles at Hogwarts but Draco has always had a thing for you."

"What?" Draco said, his eyes widened in horror. "Absolutely not! He was my arch-enemy! I hated him!"

"Of course, he hated me," Harry said a little bit more desperately than he would have liked. "And I hated him too."

Blaise rolled his eyes again. "Really?" He turned to Draco again. "Oh, come on! Pansy, Theo and I had bets on the two of you."

"Wait a minute." Harry frowned. "Bets?" he asked Draco.

Draco clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Not now, Potter."

"Of course." Blaise went on. "We had bets over how many times Draco would mention your name, Potter, in a day."

"Shut up," Draco snapped.

"The record being fifty-six times in fifth year."

"Really?" Harry grinned at the look on Draco's face.

"Zabini, you're dead," Draco snarled.

"Oh yes," Blaise told Harry, ignoring Draco.

"What else?" Harry asked.

"Zabini, I swear—" Draco started, a threatening finger pointed right at Blaise.

"We also had bets," Blaise went on, visibly happy to see the effect he had on Draco. "On what lame excuse Draco would find to go after you."

"I didn't," Draco said to Blaise. "I really didn't," he said again to Harry.

However, that wasn't really the point to Harry. "I don't understand, Malfoy," he said mischievously. "I thought Slytherins never placed bets? That they would never stoop so low?"

"Oh, Draco." Blaise shook his head in a patronising way. "You are so deeply into him." Harry felt the heat rise up his cheeks at the innuendo. Blaise seemed to realise what he had said belatedly. "Or the other way round," he added with a wink.

"Draco?" Harry asked. "Is that true? About the bets?"

"Of course it is true," Blaise said again. "Ask Pansy or Theo if you don't believe me." He rose from Draco's chair. "Anyway, I have to go. Try to wait at least a minute after I left before throwing yourselves at each other."

"Go away," Draco said in a threatening tone.

"I'm out," Blaise said with a massive smile on his face, before closing the door behind him.

Silence settled over them as Harry pondered on what had just happened. "Well, it's been quite a day," he finally said.

"Indeed," Draco replied.

Harry left his desk and walked prudently to Draco. "Hey," he said, gently taking Draco's hand in his. "It isn't too bad after all," he said. "Blaise is our friend."

"I know." He twined his fingers with Harry and smiled at him. "What did Shacklebolt want from you anyway?" Draco asked.

"Oh." Harry stared at his thumb gently stroking the back of Draco's hand. "Well, he…" He cleared his throat. "He told me about the tests Smith made on you."

"I know that," Draco retorted, and Harry knew the subject was closed, at least for now. "What else?"

"He…" Harry cleared his throat again, still fascinated by the pattern his thumb drew on Draco's hand. "He may have asked me to take Smith's place," Harry said in a breath. "But I told him I would think about it," he added quickly.

"Smith's place?" Draco asked. "Assistant Head Auror?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. But I'm not sure—"

"Are you crazy?" Draco asked, reaching for Harry's chin with his free hand and lifting it up. "Please don't tell me you're seriously considering saying no?"

"I—" Harry sighed. "I don't know."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You don't know." He shook his head. "Why? There's nothing to think about, you have to do it!"

"But we wouldn't be partners anymore," Harry couldn't help saying.

"Oh, Potter." Draco shook his head again, in a very patronising way. "Of course we wouldn't be partners anymore, but I'd be promoted too!"

Harry frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Can't you see it? I would be the one sleeping with the boss! I would be the one to share the boss's dirty secrets with the whole department! Everybody would love me!"

Harry broke into a clear laugh. He let go of Draco's hand and threw his arms around his neck, bringing him closer to him. "I can't believe you're for real," Harry said against Draco's lips, kissing him hard.

"I know, Potter." Harry kissed him again. "I know."

THE END.