A/N: Not long of a wait this time! Yay me :D

This chapter is actually nearly twice as long as the longest chapter of this story (which.. was last chapter, actually.. haha), so that's an extra special treat to those of you who appreciate it. ^_^

I want to give an extra big thank you to Michy for being absolutely incredible and helping me with this chapter! Seriously, it's 10x better because of her, so thank you so much! :D

Bit of Harry's POV again in this chapter, and we also finally start the ball (literally, the Ball) rolling with this chapter in terms of Drarry. Ish. Kinda... well, you'll see. I hope everyone enjoys, thank you all for the support and feedback, I appreciate it more than words can say!

Enjoy! :D

Chapter 12: Closet Crisis

Draco groaned softly, turning over in bed, but opening his eyes when something wet hit his side. He looked down with narrowed eyes, seeing a red stain on his sheets and boxers. He would've felt alarmed, if he didn't see the bottle of wine on the edge of his bed – it must have rolled over sometime during the night and spilled the rest of its contents on him. He sighed and dragged himself out of bed, flinching when the movement made his shoulder spark with pain. Frowning, he tried to think back, but couldn't remember feeling the pain last night at all. Perhaps the pain potion from that morning had lasted through the night? Draco doubted it, but didn't think on it further – it wasn't causing him more than a bit of discomfort, after all.

Thankfully that morning his headache wasn't severe, either. It was the reason he had decided on wine last night; unlike liquor and other beverages that he much preferred, wine didn't make him regret his drinking too much the morning after. Today, he had to convince thousands of people, maybe even more, that he was completely infatuated with Harry Potter – he knew he'd need a clear head, not one hyped on pain potions, to be able to do that.

Misty came into the room, standing at the foot of his bed. She sent her trademark glare at the wine bottle, then widened her eyes at the stain marking the bedding and his pants. The elf huffed, shaking her head to show her disapproval – like her glare didn't show it already – and addressed him, "Misty is very angry, but Master Malfoy be having guests so she be saving the yellings for later."

Draco sighed, really not in the mood for company so early in the morning – he didn't realize it was already afternoon. "Who?"

"Misters Zabini and Nott's, and Madam Parkinson, sir," she said, then gestured to his doorway which led to an adjoining sitting area. "They be waiting in there for yous, so you best being getting ready." Misty snapped her fingers, disappearing the ruined sheets and wine bottle.

It took all his restraint to not go to his friends now and order them away, but he sighed and almost made it to his bathroom door when loud voices outside his bedroom caught his attention.

"Just give him a minute, Pans!" said Blaise, and from the sounds of it, he seemed strained somehow.

He then heard a growl, which he knew had come from Pansy. It was her trademark sound when she was being impatient. "Let go! I'm just going to make sure he's actually coming, dammit."

Draco rolled his eyes, planning on completely ignoring them until he was ready. He started towards the bathroom again, only to be stopped by a loud banging against his door. Before he could even get out an angry groan, the door swung open, clashing harshly and leaving a mark on his wall. The girl standing there didn't even seem apologetic about it as she glared at Draco.

"Where were you yesterday?" she growled out, coming up to stand just a meter away from Draco with her arms angrily crossed over her chest. "I wanted to see you yesterday!"

Blaise and Theodore came to stand in the doorway, Blaise sighing at Pansy, looking sorry in her place and Theodore sending Draco a look that clearly said he was just there for the show.

Apparently, they were all completely ignoring his state of undress, so Draco just leaned against the doorway of his bathroom, wearing a mask of indifference. "As I believe I already told you, I had lunch with the Weasleys, and then I had a potions lesson with Neville," he stated, raising an eyebrow. "Or did you really want me to make a trip to see you at midnight?" Draco asked in disbelief.

Pansy seemed to relax slightly, but she still looked upset. "I didn't know about the lesson." She seemed hesitant to admit that, since she lowered her gaze, then smirked, "Have an accident, dear?" She asked as she gestured to the stain on his boxers. Since they were black, all that she and everyone else could tell was that it seemed wet.

Both Blaise and Theodore snickered softly at that, and Draco sent them all a glare. "It's wine." He said simply, shaking his head. Honestly, all he really wanted to do was get rid of them and get ready for what was sure to one of the longest days he'd had in a while, but he doubted they'd listen if he just told them to piss off. "Are you just going to make me stand here naked while it's freezing out, or are you going to tell me what in Merlin's name you want from me?"

Huffing, Pansy rolled her eyes, "It isn't that cold, no need to exaggerate." Draco sighed. It was winter, so obviously it was cold, but in his room there were plenty of warming charms to keep the chill away.

Before he could yell at her to once again get on with it, Blaise spoke for the first time. "We just figured we'd come for lunch, Pansy told us everything about the debts and we were wondering about what happened yesterday." Blaise offered a smile, while Pansy looked upset – apparently she wanted to drag out annoying Draco longer – Nott just continued looking amused, but Draco saw the worried glint in his eyes as well.

Draco cast a nonverbal Tempus and noticed it was much later than he had thought, nearly one in the afternoon. He moved to push off the doorway, but winced when that spark of sharp pain ran from his right shoulder to his collar bone. Pansy noticed and moved closer, as if to help him in case he lost his balance. "What's wrong?" She asked, voice concerned.

Shaking his head, Draco attempted to dismiss her worries, "Nothing – I stupidly hit my shoulder against something the other night. Nothing to worry about." Now that the pain retreated back to the dull ache once more, Draco shrugged and walked to his closet, shifting through options before choosing an outfit for the next few hours.

Draco saw Pansy share a worried look with Blaise and rolled his eyes. Of course she wouldn't let it go. "Are you sure? I see no mark on you, Dray... it's not the spell, it is?" She asked hesitantly.

Draping the clothes over his arm, Draco lifted an eyebrow. "I highly doubt it. I haven't done anything against the debt," he shrugged once more, making his way past her and taking a step into the bathroom. "It's nothing, really." When he still saw a trace of worry on her face, he sighed, "Pans. I promise you, if it becomes worse, I will let you know and we can look into it, but for now it's not at that point and I doubt it will get there."

Pansy nodded, finally seeming to completely accept his answer, "Fine," she began, with no small amount of attitude, "Excuse me for being worried." She huffed, but Draco heard the sarcasm in her voice and the hint of a smirk forming her lips.

"I'll be quick," Draco said, and closed the door to his bathroom. He chose to ignore the snort on the other side of the door – they all knew Draco couldn't be quick in a shower if he tried. He was nearly dying with the need to get out of his pants. Where the wine had spilled was sticky and it felt disgusting and uncomfortable.

It was fifteen minutes later that Draco stepped out of the shower – extremely fast for his standards. He dried himself off with a quick wandless spell and began to dress. When he exited the slightly steamy room, his three friends were sitting on his bed, laughing because of some joke he must've just missed.

Theo noticed him first and sent him a smile, "Well, that certainly was quick, hmm?" he teased lightly, causing Draco to just roll his eyes.

They all stood and followed Draco when he walked out of the room, heading down the hall to the staircase.

"Actually, Draco," Theo said, stopping him once they'd passed his office door. Draco looked over his shoulder and shot the man a questioning glance. Pansy just wordlessly walked into the office, followed by Blaise. Draco was about to ask them why they weren't going to the dining hall when Theo spoke again, "We ran into Narcissa downstairs." Draco started slightly at the words, but Theodore continued, "We asked Misty to serve lunch in your office, since she said your mum didn't seem to want to leave the sitting room down there."

Draco sighed at the news. How long until his mother would have a good day again? He wondered, though he knew the answer... never. Swallowing, Draco forced a smile towards Theodore and started towards his office. "Thanks." He felt Theo lightly brush his arm as he walked past, and silently accepted the form of sympathy.

Blaise and Pansy sat closely together on the couch in front of his coffee table by the fireplace. He sent them both a smile to thank them, before he sat down in the armchair at the head of the small table. Theo came in and sat at the couch as well. A small feast appeared on the table and Misty pop'd into the room with a tray of tea and coffee, which she set on the edge closest to Draco.

"These be arriving for Master, sir!" Misty held out two letters. "One being here since early morning, sirs." She nodded, pointing out the first one.

Draco raised an eyebrow, taking the letters. The one on top was a graceful handwriting he vaguely recalled seeing before, but couldn't place exactly where just going by his name. "And the other?" He asked, feeling nervous as he noticed Potter's handwriting on the bottom one.

"Being here since a few minutes ago," Misty exclaimed happily. When she saw her Master's confused expression, she cheerfully said, "Other Master's owl is very nice, Master, sir."

Not being able to help the eye-roll that came from hearing his elf call Potter 'Master', he set the letters on his thigh and reached to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Once Misty disapperated away, Blaise spoke up, "Did Misty, as in the elf who absolutely hates even us, your friends from over a decade, just call someone else Master?" He asked in complete disbelief.

Draco nodded, adding milk and a few teaspoons of sugar into his coffee. "She took a liking to Potter – apparently they had a common friend or something." He shrugged. "It's not that surprising. And," He added, looking up with a frown at his friends, "the only reason she doesn't like either of you is because you insulted her the moment you met her."

Pansy, who had met Misty at the same time Blaise had, laughed, "Well, what she was wearing was hideous, Dray." Blaise nodded in agreement, "Honestly, how could anyone not comment on it?"

Theo chuckled quietly to himself, but otherwise stayed out of the conversion. Misty actually liked him, after all. Draco paid him no mind either, as the man started making a plate for himself. "I gave her that blanket when I was a toddler, she always told me it was her treasure or something." Draco smirked. "You two insulted it, of course she'd hate you for that."

"Even now?" Pansy asked, "We were 14 at the time, you'd think she'd get over it."

Draco shrugged. "She can certainly hold a grudge. I don't think she's ever forgiven me for ordering her to stay put while I stuffed the vegetables I didn't want to eat in her ear." Blaise and Theodore both laughed at that, and Pansy raised her eyebrows, apparently not able to picture the scene. Draco grinned, "I believe I was four at the time, I wouldn't remember it myself if she didn't keep bringing it up whenever she gets upset."

All three of his friends burst out laughing, and that was how they spent their time eating lunch. Draco did eventually tell them about his meal with the Weasleys, but if anything, they just felt relief that it wasn't anything worse; they all knew about Draco's vow to himself not to use those terms again, and he always glared or hexed them if they used the phrases.

Only once Draco had pushed his plate away and leaned back quite a while later, did he direct his attention to the letters he'd gotten earlier. His friends were having a conversation between themselves, so he drowned them out and opened the letter not from Harry Potter.

Dear Draco,

Draco raised an eyebrow at the familiar title and looked down to see who had sent the letter – Hermione Granger. He hummed softly to himself, not having expected a letter from her quite yet, and continued reading.

I hope you had a good lesson with Neville yesterday. Everyone seemed to like you quite a bit after you'd left yesterday – we were all surprised by how much you'd changed, after all. George says he's wanting to find a way to get your Slytherin expertise with a few products of his store, so a heads-up on that.

After speaking to Harry about it last night, I believe I know what I'd like from you... I think. Honestly, it's so very hard to decide. When I first got the debt, I nearly just ignored it altogether. I didn't think there was anything you could give me that I needed or wanted. Though I know I can't simply ignore it after reading more into it. I believe I do know what I want, but it's something I do need to speak to Ron about, he... and myself, really... probably wouldn't be very comfortable with it.

Ugh. I'm not making any sense, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so confusing, it's just a lot to think about.

Soon I'll sit down with Ron and figure everything out though, in the meantime I'll read more about family debts and magical debts in general. Before this, I hadn't looked into the subject much at all, but it really is all very fascinating.

Anyways, I meant for this to be a short letter, I have many things to do before the Ball tonight. I don't expect a reply, I just wanted to tell you this considering how I didn't make much sense yesterday... though, reading this over, I'm not making much sense now, either. Sorry, again.

I'll see you tonight, have a good day, Draco.

Hermione

Draco folded the letter and placed it on the arm of his chair. It did confuse him, but he wasn't especially worried about it. He saw Hermione's face when Mrs. Weasley mentioned his fear of torture at the table. She had smiled in a way that said it was a ridiculous notion, so he could believe she wouldn't ask anything like that of him. However, he was curious about what she'd want to ask that would make her uncomfortable. Shaking his head, Draco made a mental note to tell her that most of the things she could ask him, he'd probably give even without the debt. That might ease her worries a bit.

Picking up the other letter, he looked up to see his friends were still deep in conversation about some Pureblood woman. Draco shook his head at the gossip and opened the letter.

Malfoy,

I don't know if you'll get this in time, but would you be willing to leave a bit earlier? As it turns out, Kingsley wants me to go back and forth between different departments and the grand hall of the Ministry – where the Ball is, before the actual thing is supposed to begin. Just to make sure the wards are working and everything's in order. I've made it seem like it's a simple task... which, it somewhat is, but messing with the wards can be magically draining and he's wanting me to add my signature, which increases the strain on my magic. I've done this before and it's not a big deal, but it takes time – probably 3 or so hours to do all the departments.

Would you be willing to be ready at 4 and come with me? If not, that's fine as well. We'll just be a bit late. Well... we'll be late either way, the Ball starts at 6…

If you don't get the letter or it's a no, then I'll see you around 7 rather than 6 – Though, I'd feel like an arse if you actually don't get this letter and think I left you there for an extra hour to be cruel.

Sorry for the much-longer-than-it-needed-to-be letter,

Harry Potter

Draco smirked as he read the last line, he could nearly imagine Potter annoyed with himself for rambling in a letter.

He didn't mind leaving earlier, honestly. Though walking around walk Potter strengthened wards did sound dull, he knew it would be better to be seen with Potter from the moment he entered the Ministry until the moment he left. Waving his wand absentmindedly, Draco summoned some blank parchment from his desk, just smiling to dismiss Theodore's curious expression.

Potter,

I'll be ready by 4-

Draco frowned and looked up from where he was writing on the corner of the table. Looking above the fireplace, Draco's eyes widened when he saw the time on the clock. 3pm. He had an hour to get ready. That's not nearly enough time! He groaned loudly, but continued writing his short reply as quickly as he could – not even bothering to care how it affected his handwriting.

I'll be ready by 4, you'll Floo into my office (if you use the Floo, apparrating is fine, too). I'll have Misty bring you to my office if you apparrate, if I'm ready I'll be there waiting. If I'm not...

Draco sighed, quickly writing the last part before he changed his mind,

either send Misty after me or have her show you to my room and force me out of whatever clothing crisis I'll be in.

Draco

He blushed furiously as he wrote that last line, but sealed it quickly and tapped it with his wand, which sent the letter flying quickly to the owlry.

"I apologize," Draco said quickly, as he stood up. "As it turns out, I'll be leaving early and have to rush to get ready. Misty," he called, his elf appearing as soon as the word finished and he addressed her, "I expect them all gone within 10 minutes, then lock all the Floo's except for this one. When Mr. Potter arrives, bring him here immediately if he apparates."

Misty nodded excitedly to each order, and Pansy raised an eyebrow at Draco, who was already trying to head out of the room quickly. "What's going on?"

Draco groaned loudly, already trying to find ways to rush his getting ready process for formal occasions – which generally took two hours at the very least – and quickly said, "He's been asked to do something and so we have to leave for the Ball at 4." Pansy, much to his chagrin, began laughing, immediately understanding what was happening. He just rolled his eyes, and stormed out the door when his other two friends laughed at him too after they understood. Thankfully for him, Misty wasted no time in kicking them all out.

He ran into his room and went straight to his bathroom, his father's lesson running through his mind the entire time.

Though you are a wizard, Draco, you are also a Malfoy. And we do not take shortcuts. While it is acceptable generally to use magic to prepare for any regular day, when you are preparing for a formal occasion, that does not apply. You must take your time. Do everything by hand. Make sure you are properly groomed to absolute perfection. You are a Malfoy, anything less would be an utter disgrace to our name.

Though he was rushing as much as he could while still doing his best, it took twenty minutes alone to finish his nails. He pushed all his filers and hand products aside, quickly running across his bathroom to the sink and mirror to shave. That took another fifteen minutes... and he still had yet to take a shower, do his hair, or even pick out his clothes.

–X-

Harry had woken up after just a few hours of sleep – thankfully, his years as an Auror and being chased by insane dark wizards had made that the normal amount he generally lived on, so he knew he could function properly on it... though, he still would've preferred more. However, an owl pecking against his window that Kreacher apparently refused to tend to was too much to sleep through.

He read the letter and became very irritated that Kingsley was asking him to work on the wards, but honestly, he should've expected it. The Minister kept praising his work on them from the last Ball. Harry sighed, petting the owl gently before summoning parchment and writing to Kingsley, saying he'd do it.

After watching the owl fly off, Harry had Kreacher bring him tea and sat on the edge of his bed, leaning over his nightstand to write a letter to Draco Malfoy about the new plans of his. He knew he was rambling in the letter and explaining in detail things that didn't even matter, and he got annoyed with himself when he read over the letter. In the end though, he decided to just send it out either way – after all, he doubted Malfoy would agree to come with him. The man no doubt wouldn't want to spend time watching Harry mess around with wards and walk through department after department of the Ministry checking them. He'd find it dull and not worth his time.

Harry held no hope what so ever of getting a reply back, so when he did just a few short hours later... well, he was completely shocked. The auburn owl seemed to be starring right through him as he took the letter from its leg, standing up taller as if to try and frighten Harry. It didn't wait for a reply, flying off before Harry could even give it the small piece of bread he'd brought for it. Shrugging, Harry ate the piece himself and walked back to his seat in the living room with the letter.

He was already showered and in his formal attire, he'd just have to put on his robes before being completely ready. Though he had 45 minutes until he had to leave, Harry had had nothing else to do but sit on the couch with a few pieces of toast and a book to kill time until the owl had appeared.

Skimming through the letter, Harry felt a small smile tug on his face. Once he'd read the last line, he chuckled quietly to himself – he could imagine how picky Malfoy was when it came to clothes, and everything that had to do with appearances, really. He use to tease – well, insult – the man about it while they were in school.

Harry grinned when he noticed the handwriting. It wasn't the collected sort of writing he'd seen a few times before – the sort that just screamed perfection. It was a quick scrawl, still neat, of course, but rushed and uneven. He couldn't imagine Malfoy did this knowingly, Harry knew the man must've felt rushed and short on time. He laughed at that, wondering how long the man took to get ready. *Half the day sounds about right*, he thought with a smirk. Harry himself took maybe thirty minutes at most. That of course included a shower, shaving (though lately he's been leaving stubble – Ginny and plenty of others told him he looked better with it, and he didn't mind the feel of it himself), and dressing in more-or-less what he wore every day – with the exception of a fancier robe over it all rather than his official Auror ones. His hair was still as untamable as ever, though now that it was slightly longer, it actually looked semi-decent.

He read over the letter a few more times, and when he looked back up, he realized it was five minutes until 4pm. Harry grinned and stood up, putting on his robes that were draped over the back of the couch, and walked outside – of course he'd prefer apparation rather than the Floo, with his luck he'd trip coming out of the fireplace and break something. Sadly, it wouldn't be the first time it had happened. So of course he'd choose apparation when it was available to him.

A few minutes later, he stood in front of Malfoy Manor's large front doors, Misty the house elf waiting for him and bowing with a large smile on her face.

"Masters Potter! Misty's being happy to seeing you, sir!"

Harry smiled at the elf and inclined his head, "It's lovely to see you, too." If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say the elf just blushed at him. "I believe I remember the way, but would you mind escorting me to your Master's office?"

She nodded her head wildly at him, opening the door so he could walk through. The first thing he noticed when he walked in was a vase shattered on the ground before the entrance way to what he remembered was the sitting room. Harry raised an eyebrow and addressed the elf. "Is everything okay?" He asked, gesturing to the mess. It wasn't in the way, but it was still noticeable.

Misty pulled on her ear roughly, "Y-Y-Y-Yes sir, please be not worrying over it, sirs!" She snapped her fingers and immediately another house elf appeared. It looked familiar to Harry – he believed it was the same one that appeared in the office during his last meeting here. He couldn't recall the name, though.

"Tipp!" Misty exclaimed loudly, "You being cleaning 'dis up nows! Masters being hurting themselves!"

Tipp quickly nodded his head and ran towards the mess, nearly falling over into it in his haste. He snapped his fingers a few times and the mess disappeared, replacing the vase on a small shelf next to him as well.

Misty huffed and began walking to the staircase. "Misty greatly apologizes for Tipp. Tipp being a fool." She nodded her head and Harry began to follow her up the stairs, catching sight of Narcissa Malfoy sitting alone in the sitting room as he passed. He was going to stop and greet her, but Misty took hold of his hand and dragged him away, looking up at him sadly and shaking her head. Harry allowed the elf to show him up the stairs through the halls, and into the familiar office without a word.

"Malfoy isn't ready yet?" He asked, looking up at the clock to show it was a few minutes passed four.

"N-No, sir," Misty sighed to herself, shaking her head, "Misty will be dressing him in her presents and being sending him here right away."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Presents?"

Misty nodded happily as she said, "Misty be giving young Master presents for many years. Master never being wearing them, though," She huffed, "Misty be giving you presents soon, too, sirs!" She said, smiling brightly up at him.

For some reason, Harry felt semi-wary of her presents. "Thank you." He forced a smile. "However, would it be possible to show me to his room? I'm sure I can help him along."

Looking up at him with her large eyes, Misty smirked – a truly scary look from a house elf – "Master and young Master might be late if you help him too much, sir." She shrugged and, still smirking, continued, "But Misty being showing you the ways now."

Harry chose to ignore her first statement, and followed her down the hall. He was let into a room with a few couches and arm chairs in a half circle formation, with a table in front of them. Along the walls were shelves filled with books, frames of documents and very few photos. Misty began walking toward a door on the far right, which he assumed led to Malfoy's bedroom. As soon as they came to the entrance and Misty opened the door, a large crashing noise came from inside. Harry started and sprinted past the elf to get inside.

-X-

It was two minutes until 4pm and Draco had only just gotten out of the shower. He sighed loudly, nearly reaching for his wand to quickly charm himself dry but, with his father's lesson at the front of his mind, he instead picked up the towel on a nearby rack and hurriedly and aggressively dried himself. He wondered how many strands of hair he'd accidentally pulled out when he finally pulled the tower off his head and knotted it around his waist.

He quickly moved to his counter, nearly running into it in his haste, and took out his supplies from a drawer. Placing small drops of various potions and products into his palm, he ran his hands together before massaging the liquid into his just-barely-damp hair. Deeming it all he could do with it until it was completely dried, Draco ran out of the room, quickly casting the spell again. Four minutes passed the hour. Bloody damn hell! He quickly yanked open his closet door and, being the idiot he was, hit himself in the forehead with the door when it gave away far more easily than he anticipated.

With a loud groan, Draco rubbed his forehead and very gently opened the door the rest of the way, making sure his face was far from the offending piece of wood. But of course, with his luck, a box on the side of his large closet game tumbling down once he'd gotten the door opened completely, its corner landing right on Draco's foot.

Cursing loudly, Draco leaned against the opened door and breathed through the pain, putting his weight on his other foot while the injured one hovered slightly in the air. He heard shuffling behind him and turned his head, openly gaping in shock at Harry Potter as he stood a few feet away.

"I heard a crash, what happened?" The man asked bewildered, Misty coming up behind him just to bow to Draco before apparating away.

Getting over his surprise, and trying to ignore his state of undress, he gestured vaguely to the box on the ground and said sarcastically – since he certainly wasn't going to admit he was saying it 'grumpily', as Misty always told him, "Objects seem to enjoy attacking me."

Draco didn't know if Potter even tried to stop the grin that appeared on his face. "Oh?" He said simply, then reached up and tapped his own forehead, the area where Draco guessed was quite red from his other attack, "And what happened there?"

Pushing himself off the door now that the pain was bearable, he walked into his closet, shrugged and mumbled stubbornly, "The door was against me as well."

Potter snorted. "I see," Draco heard, since he didn't bother turning around from his search in his closet, as Potter moved inside the open door. "I assumed you were exaggerating when you said I'd have to... hm, what was it?" Draco turned around when he heard a crumpling of paper, noticing Potter pull a folded piece of parchment out of his inner robe pocket and read aloud, "Force you out of a clothing crisis." He looked up from the words and raised an amused eyebrow.

Draco scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest – he completely refused to think how much he was imitating Pansy at the moment – and said, voice dripping in sarcasm, "And what, pray tell, do you intend to do about it, Mister All-Mighty Fashion Expert?"

Potter chuckled softly, walking further into the closet and looked around. He reached down and threw a pair of folded black boxer-briefs at Draco that he got from the small shelves lining the bottom of his closet walls. Draco rolled his eyes, thankful that Potter kept his back turned as he stepped into the pants and pulled them on underneath his towel, kicking the box on the floor away when he nearly tripped on it.

Finished, Draco crossed his arms again, refusing to believe Potter had any sort of fashion knowledge that would enable him to pick a decent outfit for Draco.

Potter shifted through a few of the shirts he had near the back of his closet, then seemed to hesitate, grabbing one and turning around to show Draco with a raised eyebrow. "What's this?" He asked, holding up one of Misty's 'presents' from a few years ago. It was a muggle t-shirt, with dozens of multicolored stars, and various shapes over the entire surface.

Draco sighed, shaking his head, "Misty gave it to me on my birthday a couple years ago. And no, I am absolutely not going to wear it."

Potter tried, not so successfully, to hide a wince after his first statement and the man immediately put the shirt back with a shrug. Draco watched him pull out a black button-up with gray buttons and tossed it over his shoulder at him. He caught it and, upon feeling that it was indeed silk, began putting it on. He was actually quite amused as he watched Potter shift through the many pairs of formal trousers he had. He didn't think the man would actually try when picking out his clothes, but Draco could see he was putting some thought into it – if the way he kept picking up one and after feeling the material or looking completely at the style, would put it back. It was shocking, considering Potter seemed to be wearing a simple dress robe over what looked to be clothes he wore often.

After a minute – far less time than it would've taken Draco – Potter tossed him a pair of black trousers. Draco, finding nothing particularly wrong with them, tossed his towel to the floor and stepped into them. After properly tucking in his shirt, he looked up to find Potter staring at him with an eyebrow raised. Tilting his head to the side – his way of asking what? – the man turned back around, moving to the other side of the closet where all his formal dress robes and coats were. A few seconds later, the man took a longer coat from the many in front of him and held it out for Draco.

Draco swallowed loudly when he realized what it was Potter was offering him. A coat his father used to wear on many formal occasions. He himself had never worn it, but he had no reason to say no, after all, that coat would go well with what he was wearing. He reached out and took it from Potter, hoping the man wouldn't notice his hands – and body – shaking as he grabbed it and put it on. It came down to just below his knees, the forearm a bit loose, but Draco knew it was styled that way. Potter gave a nod in approval when he looked up.

"Now, as an All-Mighty Fashion Expert," he said, with no small amount of sarcasm, "I think I did pretty well. Anything else?" He asked, moving to the center of the closet and looked around. "I assume any of the thousand pairs of shoes would be good, and probably be best to go without a tie – you really don't need it."

Nodding, Draco walked out of the closet, ignoring his father's lesson and spelling on his socks and shoes with wandless magic as he headed back to the bathroom. He heard Potter following him, and kept the door open.

"You still aren't ready?" Potter asked from the doorway, smirking.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the man in the mirror. "Does my hair look ready to you?"

Potter, much to Draco's annoyance, chuckled and nodded. "Yes, it does. What's wrong with it?"

Turning around with a hand on his hip and the other pointed to his hair, Draco glared at Potter in complete disbelief, "It's not styled at all!"

Snorting softly, Potter shook his head. "Fine, do what you want. But, in five minutes, I'll be dragging you out the door, whether you think it's good or not." Though he was obviously amused, Draco saw the seriousness in his features and had no doubt that Potter would in fact do as he said. Quickly turning around, he got to work putting other products in his hair and styling it in a way that didn't take the usual thirty minutes.

He was nearly out of breath, exactly five minutes later, when Potter did in fact grab him by his arm and pull him towards the door. But at least he'd finished. His hair looked silky and smooth, pushed back and to the side, but not flat against his head like he'd done when he was younger. It looked like it had volume, but with the length, the edges seemed to frame his face and neck. Even if he'd run his hand through it – as he had the bad habit of doing, especially lately – it wouldn't mess with the style any. He did a good job, given his time limit, if he had to say so himself.

Potter chuckled softly and let go of his arm, moving towards the bedroom door. "I didn't actually think you'd get done," he teased, looking back at Draco with a smirk.

Draco rolled his eyes, "You don't seem to understand what a delicate process getting ready for events is. And a Malfoy never leaves looking anything less than perfect," he stated, pulling the coat a bit tighter around himself once they'd left the warming charms in his bedroom, making their way to his office.

"It takes me a fifth of the time it takes you to get ready, and I haven't gotten any bad remarks about how I look," Potter said, shrugging. "Half the things you probably focused on probably won't even get noticed."

With a huff, Draco said, "I'll have you know I get compliments on my nails all the time, and doing everything by hand takes time – I bet if you did so it would take you just as long."

Potter laughed, stepping into his office, "I was raised by muggles. I do most things by hand because I don't even think about using my wand for it in the first place."

Draco grimaced, not having a good comeback, but opened his mouth anyways, "I suppose that explains your hair. A few potions and a grooming charm would work wonders, you know. Though I admit, it's gotten a tad better over the years."

With a small chuckle, Potter replied, "Ginny and Hermione have both attacked me to try to tame my hair, it's never worked. I've grown it out some, so at least it doesn't resemble a bird's nest anymore."

Draco raised an eyebrow – he actually had expected an insult back. Having a semi-normal conversation with Potter about looks, of all things, was the last thing he expected to happen that day. "At least you agree it was a bird's nest, then." He joked lightly, reaching up to run a hand through his own hair.

Potter looked back and grinned slightly, before becoming a bit more serious, and said, "We'll have to start the act as soon as we make it – I doubt it'll be very busy in the Floo area just yet, though." He waited for a nod from Draco and threw Floo powder into the fireplace, calling out the Ministry as his destination. Draco followed a moment after.

Gracefully walking out of the green flames, he looked up to see Potter dusting off his sleeve which was covered by soot. Draco couldn't help a snicker, and he flicked his wand, cleaning the ash and dust off the man's clothing. Potterwas right, there actually wasn't a single person in sight, surprisingly.

Potter looked back and gave a grateful nod. "Kingsley should be in the great hall, we'll just have to let him know we're here, then we can begin."

Draco walked beside Potter while they made their way to the elevators. "Have you done this for him often?"

Making the doors just as they opened, they stepped inside the small empty compartment – Draco standing a bit farther back in it than the other did – and Potter replied, "Just once before, it doesn't drain me as much as the Auror's he used to assign to it – plus he seems to think if any dark wizards comes across my signature, they'll just turn around." He gave a chuckle at that, obviously thinking it wasn't true, though Draco himself could see some merit in the idea.

"I see," Draco said, and taking advantage of their brief time alone, "Kingsley doesn't know about the debt?"

Potter shook his head. "No, the only ones who know are my closest friends and family – everyone in the debt, actually. I don't really want anyone else knowing about it."

Suddenly, the pain in his right shoulder flared and he grabbed it with a sharp wince. He nearly looked around to see who cursed him, but he knew what had caused it. He'd broken a rule – an unspoken one, but it counted in the debt's eyes.

Potter apparently saw what had happened in the door's reflection because he turned around in confusion. "What happened? What's wrong?" He asked, completely on alert.

Draco looked up from where he'd been staring – in fear – at his shoulder and forced his hand away from it, trying his best to smile. "It's nothing, I hit my shoulder against something in my rush to get ready earlier, just hurt me a little bit unexpectedly." When he saw the disbelieving stare Potter was giving him, he tried again, "Honestly, Potter, it's nothing to get so worked up over."

Potter sighed, thankfully seeming to give up on the matter.

His shoulder still throbbed, and Draco somehow knew it was going to continue until he confessed. The elevator would arrive at the hall soon, he'd only have this one chance – he doubted he could probably convince others he was in a relationship with Potter when it felt as if his shoulder was on fire. Clearing his throat, he began in a small, hesitant tone, "Potter..." Seeing he had the man's attention in the reflection, he continued, "I told Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabani about... well, us. I thought I should tell you before we run into them tonight." Thankfully, the pain did lesson once he'd confessed, but Draco wasn't blind, he saw the immediate anger and mistrust that flashed through Potter's eyes. It was especially clear in the way the man tensed completely – head to toe.

"Why?" Potter asked, looking at Draco from over his shoulder.

He was just about to open his mouth and answer when the doors to the elevator opened. Nobody on the other side was standing near it, thankfully, but Draco could hear a few people nearby. Stepping up so he was at Potter's side, he whispered, "I'll explain... but, later?" He phrased it as a question. In a way, it was to tell the other man it was Potter who held all the power, but it was also as an out. If he wanted to, he could walk out of here alone or turn back completely, close the elevator doors until he knew all the facts. He didn't know why precisely, but he felt an incredible amount of relief when Potter simply nodded and, holding out his arm for Draco to take – which he did – walked out of the elevator with him close to his side.

Tightening his grip slightly on the crook of Potter's arm, Draco braced himself for what was surely going to be a long night.

A few steps outside of the elevator, before they could even really appreciate the decorations around the massive Hall around them, they heard the voice of the Minister, who walked over to stand just a few feet away from Potter's other side, "Ah, Harry! Was expecting you a bit-" He stopped mid-speech, apparently just realizing who it was on Potter's arm, "Lord Malfoy? It's been awhile..." He trailed off, probably shocked into silence realizing why exactly he was there.

Draco still wasn't quite used to being called Lord – he doubted he ever would be – but he didn't let that show as he smiled brightly at the dark-skinned man. "Minister, always a pleasure to see you. Hope you've been well."

The Minister nodded, sending Potter a very obvious questioning glance.

Potter just greeted Kingsley with his own smile. "Sorry we're late, I should've taken into account the amount of time it takes to be perfect," he said, looking over at Draco with a smirk. He just rolled his eyes and Potter continued speaking, "I didn't want to leave Draco alone until I was done with the warding, so I figured I'd have him tag along instead."

Kingsley nodded. "I see. I didn't realize you two were... well, I just hadn't heard anything about it before." The Minister actually didn't seem too bothered by it, just more-or-less surprised.

"We didn't want the press all over it until it became serious," Potter said with a slight shrug.

The Minister gave his friend a small smile and inclined his head in agreement. "Well, as long as you know what you're doing – though many will be upset that not one but two of the most handsome bachelors in Britain are off the market."

Potter laughed and Draco gave an amused snort. "They'll have to get over it, then," Potter replied. Draco gave him a small smile – one he was sure Kingsley would see, if not Potter himself – and he continued, "But, before we end up being completely late for the actual party, where do you want us to start?"

Kingsley brought out a piece of parchment from his robe pocket and handed it to Potter. On it were a list of all the departments in the Ministry – very dim, he could barely see the writing. "Start in your section then work your way down the list," the Minister said, then noticed someone coming out of another nearby elevator, "Ah, think that's the man for the ceiling enchantment. Best if you begin now, Harry. I'll see you two shortly," he said, patting Potter on his shoulder before walking past them to greet the new arrival.

When Potter saw the curious look Draco was giving the parchment over his shoulder, he gave a short explanation, "The names of each section will brighten when the wards become secure and the new signature is added."

Draco raised his eyebrows, impressed. "It's surprising it's able to accurately do that – with how large the Ministry is. Other magics here don't interfere with it?"

Potter shook his head. "I don't know the spell myself, but it takes a quite a few people to cast it. I can only assume it's not affected by it, worked perfectly fine last time."

Able to feel Kingsley's eyes and ears on them – also a couple of the other people who loitered around the Hall – Draco took the slightest step closer to Potter and gave him a charming – if not sly – smile. "How about we go off then? I've always wanted to see your office, love."

Draco thanked any god listening that Potter understood the message because the man blushed slightly, then said in a slightly lower voice, "You truly are insatiable." Potter sighed, but with a small smile on his face, then turned back around and led Draco back to the elevator. "Though you know we aren't here for that, now."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow, smirking as they walked through the doors – which closed before Potter had the time to answer.

Potter sighed, removing his arm where it was intertwined with Draco's. He had to tell himself it was just his imagination that his palm felt cooler.

They rode the few minute trip to the Auror Department in silence. It was awkward, and Draco began feeling nervous. He knew he should speak up, apologize, do something to make the other relax again... but, Potter wasn't exactly giving him the opening to do so. Actually, technically, he was. But was he supposed to just speak with the man's back? Potter was purposely avoiding his gaze, even in the door's reflection.

Once the doors opened, Potter walked out. Draco halfway expected to take his arm again, but by the way Potter kept walking, he could only guess it wasn't needed here. He hurried to catch up, walking a foot behind the other.

After yet another couple minutes of pure silence – the only noises being their footsteps and... wait, was that his heartbeat? He hoped to Merlin that Potter couldn't hear it if it was – Draco finally gathered up all his courage and cleared his throat. Potter hesitated slightly, but just slowed down instead of stopping completely.

He began in a small voice, being completely sincere and hoping to convey that. "I'm sorry, I..." He sighed softly, continuing, "They're who I talk to about these things, about everything... it didn't occur to me not to tell them." Draco apologized, "I can promise you, they won't tell anyone else – I know you don't trust them, but they wouldn't do anything that would go against the debt, either."

Potter sighed, running a hand roughly through his hair and continued walking. "I just would've preferred it stay between us and my friends." With a huff, he looked over his shoulder at Draco, "I guess that was unfair, though. I should've made that clear in the beginning, but I didn't, so that's my fault. Just... I'd prefer it if you not tell anyone else."

Draco nodded his head once. "Of course," he replied honestly, softly, "Again, I'm extremely sorry."

With a shrug, Potter picked up his pace deeper into the Auror department of the Ministry. Draco continued to feel guilty and decided against saying anything else until they both calmed down – from the tense shoulders he could see through the robes on the man, he could tell Potter was extremely upset, and he doubted anything he could say would make that any better.

A/N: Heh... bit of tenseness in the end there, but at least the debt is semi-content. I'm absolutelysure it'll stay that way, too. Definitely. Completely positive. Really, I am. Don't give me those disbelieving stares. I'd never lie to you guys, honestly. Well... I wouldn't in exchange for some reviews. Oh god, the thirst has been renewed. Save me. With reviews. Heh... I know, I'm scum.