Title: Partners

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns HP and Co. I just sneak them underage drinking privileges.

Rating: T, or PG.

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Warnings: Language, maybe? I don't think I even swore once in this one. For once. Slash. Boy kisses.

Summary: Draco and Harry are Auror partners and have been for years. Harry does not have a crush on Draco; he just doesn't. Then one day he gets into an accident...

A/N: A request by Brittany Morgan, who wanted Auror partners. Enjoy! Please read and review! I reply!

Harry Potter was beginning to get annoyed. His partner, Draco Malfoy, had, for the third time in as many minutes, surreptitiously stuck feathers in his messy black hair.

"Just because I don't have perfectly coiffed blond locks like somebody," he said grumpily, "Doesn't mean I don't mind a head full of feathers."

He glared at his partner, then went back to work. Malfoy shrugged. "Serves you right for being so slow," he observed airily.

"Just because I'm not fast at paperwork like somebody," growled Harry. "Doesn't mean that it's okay to distract me and make it take even longer."

"Want some help?"

Harry sighed. "You know what? I would." He shoved a stack of papers at Malfoy who snorted and grabbed the pile.

"I bet you were just waiting for me to ask, Potter," he grinned.

"With bated breath," agreed Harry dryly.

They proceeded to get through the paperwork much more quickly, with two of them going at it, one of them nice and quick. That one was not Harry.

"Finished!" he exclaimed happily, finally pushing the last piece of paper away.

"About time," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Can we please go to lunch now? I'm starved."

"Sure, sure, where do you wanna go?" asked Harry.

"There's a lovely little muggle café that just opened up about a block away. I'll show you the place. Oh and Potter?"

"Hmm?"

"You're buying." Malfoy gave him a predatory grin. "Since I had to do over half your paperwork, it's only fair."

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes, but he knew Malfoy was right. "Fine, you big berk. Lead the way."

"Git," said Malfoy fondly.

"I do not have a thing for Draco Malfoy," Harry told himself silently. No, he absolutely did not. Just because he thought Malfoy's arse in those jeans he was wearing when he took off his Auror robes was absolutely delicious looking, and his shoulders and his thighs and his… ahem. No, he absolutely did not.

Just because he found the blond witty and clever and charming and delighted in his company did not mean he had a thing for Draco Malfoy. Nope, no sir. Not Harry.

"He's going round the back! I'll follow, you cut him off!"

"Got it!" yelled Harry. He was grateful Malfoy had stopped competing with him every time they had to make a chase and co-operated with him instead. They usually caught their man when they played to each other's strengths.

This particular idiot had attempted to break into the Department of Mysteries after some Dark artifacts that had been confiscated from his ancestral home. He had, of course, failed spectacularly, but he was leading half the Auror division on a merry chase and had rather successfully avoided capture so far.

His luck, Harry thought grimly, was about to run out.

Harry rounded the corner and nearly ran into him. The man raised his wand. "Obliviate!"

"Protego!"

The force of the two spells colliding was such that both men were thrown backwards, and Harry's world went dark.

"Harry? Oh thank Merlin; he's waking up!"

Harry raised his head groggily and looked around. The first thing that registered was that he appeared to be in St. Mungo's. "But how did I get here?" he wondered. "Was it Voldemort? Or was it bloody Malfoy?"

The second thing that registered was that "bloody Malfoy" was sitting by his bedside chattering eagerly at him, "-I was so worried when I found you, you have no idea! Don't you dare scare me like that again, Potter, you hear?"

"Sodding Malfoy!" he shouted. "What did you do to me?"

Malfoy had the gall to look confused.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Harry yelled, and Malfoy blanched.

"Harry," he whispered. "Oh gods, no; Harry."

The next few days were full of confusion for Harry. He was told that he had lost some memory, that they weren't certain if the Obliviate that had been cast had taken hold or if they had been lost due to his head injury; if the loss was temporary or permanent. Apparently the war had been over for about seven years, and he and Malfoy had been Auror partners all that time, right from training. He was tempted to believe everything he was being told was a lie, but Ron and Hermione visited and confirmed the truth of it to him.

Apparently they were married now – married! – and had nothing better to do with their visits to him than extoll the virtues of the ferret.

"I don't know why you like the slimy git either, mate," said Ron, "But apparently you do; so much that we've even had him round for supper a time or two." He scratched his head. "I suppose he's not so bad now," he admitted, grudgingly.

"Malfoy's one of your best friends, Harry," said Hermione gently. "In fact, I'd say you had quite a crush on him."

"Me?" squeaked Harry. "A crush? On Malfoy?"

"Well, yes, Harry," said Hermione in her reasonable voice. "You like men, you know."

Harry ordered them to get out.

And Malfoy was always skulking around, always trying to talk to him, always being nice. Nice. Malfoy. It was unnerving.

He looked different. Less pointy.

Harry finally blew up at Malfoy once, screaming at him, "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Malfoy just looked at him sadly. "Because you're my best friend, Potter."

"Well I hate you now!"

"I know." Malfoy said softly, staring at the floor.

"That's not going to change!"

"I know." Malfoy looked so forlorn Harry almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"So why do you still care? If you know that I hate you and that's not going to change than why are you still here?"

"Because I love you, Harry!" Malfoy burst out, then his face twisted in something like grief, and he got up and left, very quickly.

Harry felt a strange, sharp pain in his chest as he watched him go, but he dismissed it as indigestion.

"Legilimens!"

Harry braced himself for the unpleasant sensation of his mind being invaded. It had taken a lot of work on Hermione and Ron's parts to get him to agree to the mind treatment to recover his lost memories. He wasn't even sure he wanted them back. But he would do a lot more than that for Hermione and Ron.

Fortunately for Harry the mind healer was gentler than Snape had been, and there was no pain, just supreme discomfort. That is, until today's session. His head felt it would split open from the unbearable agony of it.

Suddenly, it was like a dam broke, and a flood of images, sounds, emotions swept through him. He remembered the war; the deaths and the losses, the victory. He remembered Auror training, nearly killing Malfoy and nearly being killed by him and finally agreeing grudgingly to work together the best they could until they finished training and could request new partners. Gradually becoming friends.

Harry realising he was gay. Realising he was attracted to Malfoy and constantly trying to rationalize and justify it and explain it away.

Then it was over, and he remembered that the last time he had seen Malfoy, Malfoy had told him he loved him and he knew he needed to find the blond.

"I remember," he told the healer. "I remember everything."

Malfoy was doing paperwork when Harry walked into the office, wearing his Auror robes for the first time since his accident. He'd finally been cleared to come back to work. He stood in the doorway a moment, studying Malfoy, admiring him, admitting to himself for the first time that he was more than a little smitten with his partner. He closed the door and Malfoy looked up, startled.

"Bloody hell," he said, shocked. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I was cleared to come back to work," Harry replied.

"But you don't even remember training!" The blond was flustered, trying to hide it. "No offence, Potter, I know you took down the Dark Lord and all but you don't even remember doing that, so –"

Harry chuckled. "I do now, Malfoy," he said. "I remember everything."

"Everything?" Malfoy looked hopeful.

"Including you saying that you loved me," said Harry, and Malfoy's face blanched.

"Look, Potter," he began, but Harry cut him off.

"So I guess it's a good thing I love you too, you prat." He smiled.

Malfoy stared, then he leapt to his feet and suddenly he was kissing Harry, kissing him like he'd never been kissed in his life. Harry laughed and drew his arms around Malfoy's neck and kissed him back.

He intended never to lose his partner again.