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Keep It Simple, Stupid	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8388 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Thanks again for all the reviews on the first chapter!

Chapter Two�That Mad Potter

�� The
Minister had been no help. Of course, Draco wasn�t really sure why he had
expected help from that quarter. Scrimgeour was too busy trying to make
sure that his rivals and enemies and friends didn�t swallow him alive in their
attempts to �help him run the Ministry better.�

�� Sometimes,
Draco wondered if he was the only Ministry employee who actually cared about
his job.

�� His orders
were simply to continue attending the Death Eater meetings and learning what he
could about Prince while the �geniuses� in the Department of Magical Law
Enforcement labored to invent some way past the protections on the manor house
where the Death Eaters met. Draco wrote a short note requesting that he might
be informed the moment they located something useful�which they probably
wouldn�t, given that they hadn�t managed the task in five years�and then went
home.

�� He wandered
slowly up the alley that the broken Ministry phonebox led to, oddly in the mood
for grimy alleys and the sight of Muggles. At least it wouldn�t depress him more
than he�d already been depressed; he could always pretend that the people
passing around him had some semblance of intelligence and exciting interior
lives.

�� He never
took the Floo from the Ministry. An unfortunate experience with the Floo in his
seventh year at Hogwarts had left him with a small, jagged scar on his elbow
and a permanent hatred of whirling round and about.

�� Draco! Oi,
Draco!�

�� Draco
stifled a sigh. He had thought Potter had left long since. He normally only
stayed in the office from eleven to three, didn�t he? And then he would suggest
going to a pub, or for �an early dinner,� and one of his pet Aurors would cover
for him. It was typical of Draco�s luck that Potter would choose today to
accost him twice.

�� But when he
turned around, he saw it was worse than that. Potter was trotting towards him,
giving him the slightly mad smile of a Gryffindor who had found the perfect way
to make a Slytherin�s life miserable. And he was completely alone. No Aurors
followed him, no fans�no one who could witness an attempt on his life and
scream loudly to fetch help, much less someone who could lift a wand and defend
him if Death Eaters struck.

�� Draco
cursed and cast several temporary wards that would warn him if someone came
close with hostile intent. Potter pulled up and gave him an offended stare from
beneath puffy eyelids. �Really, Draco. I hear that kind of language from
other people in the Ministry all the time. I thought your mother had taught you
better manners.�

�� You know
nothing about my mother�� Draco began, and then shut his mouth firmly. Really,
what would bickering gain him? Potter would only act as though he understood
nothing, and flirt with Draco, and call him names. Draco refused to let himself
be distracted from what was really important. �You should go back to your own
house, Potter,� he said. �It�s not safe for you out in the open, now that the
Death Eaters have a plot to kill you.�

�� Piffle,�
said Potter.

�� Draco
blinked. �I�m sorry,� he said at last. �Did you just say piffle?�

�� And so
what if I said piffle?� Potter folded his arms and looked sulky. �I�m sure that
you can protect me, Draco. You always do your duty. That�s something
I�ve admired about you a lot in the last few years.� His voice grew soft
and caressing, and he edged closer, looking like a duelist searching for ways
through his enemy�s guard. Draco thought he was looking for a way to touch
Draco�s arm or shoulder without immediately having his fingers sting from the
hex that would follow.

�� You said
you hadn�t started wanting to flirt with me until recently.� Draco moved his
wand in a slow pattern, covering the angles that Potter might use to approach
him from. He knew he probably looked ridiculous. He felt ridiculous.

�� Well,
that seems to be the natural consequence for anyone Potter�s near. His
sycophants just agreed to it, that�s all.

�� I didn�t
notice you were fit until recently,� Potter corrected him. �I�ve admired
you for a long time. Draco.� He practically sighed the name, and leaned nearer
and nearer until he almost rested his head on Draco�s shoulder, his eyelashes
fluttering.

�� Draco felt
a surge of anger. He would have given so much to hear those words in another
context that hearing them like this only cheapened them, and reminded him, yet again,
of the enormous gap that lay between his world and Potter�s. He was tempted to
Apparate home then and there and try to forget about Potter in a bottle of
Firewhiskey.

�� But the
enormous git was still his responsibility, at least until he managed to
convince him to go back to the house he had inherited from Black. Shacklebolt
would never let Draco hear the end of it if he left and then Potter was
ambushed by Bellatrix and Jugson.

�� Besides, it
wasn�t the right thing to do, to leave someone as careless as Potter to
his own devices when there was a threat to his life.

�� Damn it.

�� Draco still
cursed the day he�d grown a conscience. Life would have been so much easier if
he could have gone on behaving like an arrogant and spoiled schoolboy.

�� Listen,
Potter,� he said as calmly as he could, �you have to go home. If all the
Death Eaters attacked at once, then I wouldn�t be sufficient protection. And
you don�t want to disappoint your friends and admirers by dying, do you?�

�� I would
hate to disappoint you.� Potter�s eyes were fixed on him with a hopeful
adoration that Draco knew couldn�t be the real thing, because the real thing
would have made his breath catch with wonder, and this just made him irritated
and tired.

�� Then go
home,� Draco ordered.

�� But you
would know if they were going to attack me, right?� Potter edged nearer again,
looking pleased with himself. �After all, you attend the meetings, and they
wouldn�t make plans without you. It sounds like they can barely think
unless you�re there to prod them.� He dropped his voice into that purr again,
which definitely did not affect Draco in any way and which Potter was pathetic
for attempting. �I wouldn�t mind thinking if you prodded me.�

�� Draco bit
his tongue, glad for the fact that he didn�t stand immediately next to any of
the alley walls, or he would have pounded his head on them and damn the
consequences. �Stop it with the stupid innuendo, Potter, first of all,� he
snapped.

�� Oh, but
it�s only innuendo if it teases and taunts and doesn�t promise, Draco,�
Potter said. He tried to take Draco�s hand. Draco rapped his palm with the
wand. Potter blinked at him, then said, �Ow. That hurt. Did you know that
hurt?�

�� Draco
ignored him as best he could. The more he participated in this conversation,
the longer Potter would stay beyond safe walls and the longer Draco would have
to spend dealing with him. �Second, I know Prince doesn�t trust me. He
might have instructed the others to meet without notifying me, or created plans
that don�t rely on my presence. So I can�t be absolutely sure of what Jugson
and the rest intend any more. Any margin of uncertainty is too small where your
life�s concerned.�

��

�� I knew
it,� said Potter, looking as happy as a small child who had been offered ice
cream.

�� Draco
frowned. �Knew you were in danger? Then I don�t understand why you haven�t gone
home already��

�� Gryffindors
don�t run from danger,� said Potter, with a stupid flourish of his
cloak. �We face it.� He wore an insufferably smug expression when he
dropped his cloak and beamed at Draco. �And I knew that you had some
feelings for me! You want me safe. That�s so sweet.� He tried to pat Draco�s
cheek again.

�� Draco
snapped his teeth at Potter�s reaching fingers this time. Potter blinked. �I
might almost say that you�re annoyed with me, Draco,� he murmured. �What did I
do?�

�� I am
annoyed with you,� Draco said, deciding that he had nothing to lose. They were
outside the Ministry, and there was no one to hear him speak to the sainted
Harry Potter like this. �Goddamn it, Potter, I know full well that you�re only
flirting with me because you�re bored and this is a game to you��

�� It is,
Draco,� Potter said, and his face was flushed and his voice hopeful. He leaned
into Draco�s personal space, making Draco�s wand hand twitch. �The most
important game. I want to make you love me, because I already love you so much,
and it�s only fair that you should love me back.� He ran his fingers
caressingly over Draco�s shoulder.

�� That was enough.
Draco cursed Potter with boils and Apparated home. The minute he arrived at the
Manor, he sent an elf directly to Shacklebolt�s house with a note warning him
that Potter was wandering around alone�it was faster than an owl�and then went
to ransack the cellar for Firewhiskey. He would drink himself into oblivion, or
at least as much as he could manage on a Monday night when he had to be in to
work at nine in the morning.

*

Draco could feel the change in the
Ministry the moment he arrived. Currents of conversation that were usually
still at this time of the day flowed madly along the corridors.� Aurors nodded at each other with significant
looks. Draco heard Potter�s name mentioned more than once, and now and then
people gave him pitying glances.

He arrived at his office and was
unsurprised to find a memo from Scrimgeour summoning him to a meeting. With a
heavy sigh, he went, only taking a moment to cast a spell that would clean any
forgotten dirt smudges from his face and any ruffled tangles from his hair.

Draco�s gut twisted the moment he
stepped through the door of Scrimgeour�s office. Potter, disappointingly free
of boils, was lounging in a chair already, only two of his usual protectors
sitting primly behind him. When Draco entered, Potter twisted around and beamed
up at him.

�Draco! You came.� A lazy smile
lifted the corner of his mouth. �Would you like to make a regular habit of
that?�

It took Draco a moment to
understand the innuendo. When he did, he had to choke back his outrage. He�d
worked hard to make people in the Ministry respect him for who he was after the
war, and now Potter�s companions were sniggering and even Scrimgeour seemed to
have difficulty holding a straight face. It wouldn�t be hard for Potter to undo
everything he�d labored for.

Draco sat down in his own chair and
kept his eyes fixed sternly ahead. It still meant that he had to watch
Scrimgeour cough his way through the laughter, but at least he didn�t have to
look at Potter�

Who was making an attempt to
intertwine his fingers with Draco�s between their chairs. Draco folded his
hands firmly in his lap and said to Scrimgeour, �Sir. What is this about?�

�A threat,� said the Minister, and
his face finally cleared. �A very large and public one. The first public threat
from the Death Eaters since the end of the war, in fact.� He folded the Daily
Prophet, which had been lying in front of him, and slid it across the desk
to Draco, tapping the photograph on the front page helpfully.

Draco restrained his comments about
how the Ministry wasn�t even alert enough to get there first and take its own
photographs, and examined the picture. It showed the Dark Mark�and didn�t that
put a shiver, of both disgust and remembrance, up his spine�hovering above a
small house that Draco thought might be on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The door
to the house hung open, and two of the front windows were broken. Draco
grimaced and scanned the article. He recognized Avery�s work; he had always
thought it particularly threatening to break glass, for some reason. Draco
suspected he just liked the sound it made when it shattered.

DEATH EATERS BACK? the
headline bleated. Draco squinted. Had they actually used dark green ink for the
letters? It seemed they had, probably trying to match the shade of the Dark
Mark. Draco shook his head and passed the paper back to Scrimgeour.

�I knew nothing about this,� he
stated plainly. �It may show that Prince doesn�t trust me and is already
encouraging the others to act outside my supervision. Or he may have done it
himself, in order to show Jugson and the rest that there will not be immediate
retaliation for any act that announces Death Eater presence. The second one
would be my guess. I think even Avery would require more convincing than one
day�s worth.�

�So you say,� muttered Scrimgeour,
surveying him skeptically.

Draco ground his teeth, but he had
long since mastered the art of doing so without letting any sound slip into the
outside world. He kept his face and tone both flat and calm as he said, �If you
no longer trust my expertise on this case, sir, remove me from it. I�m sure
that I could find some other and better way to serve the Ministry.�

�No one said anything about that,�
said Scrimgeour, and this time pursed his lips at Draco, as if he had demanded
to be taken off the case and sent on some less dangerous mission. �You�re our
resident Death Eater expert. If you insist that they wouldn�t move so soon, of
course we�ll have to believe you.�

�I believe him,� Potter
spoke up unexpectedly. �I think that you should give Malfoy immediate and
complete control of all aspects of this case. He�s the one most likely to
uncover evidence that the rest of us won�t, simply because he knows all the
free Death Eaters and how they think from years of exposure.�

Draco stared at Potter warily.
There surely must be consequences for this support.

And there were. Potter sent him a
sideways leer, and added brightly, �I�m the second most knowledgeable expert on
Death Eaters. I suggest that Malfoy and I partner for however long it takes to
bring all of them in.�

�No,� Draco said, putting
all the denial, refusal, and utter conviction he was capable of mustering into
that single word.

But Scrimgeour, of course, because
it was the way Draco�s life worked, was nodding thoughtfully. �I believe that
an excellent suggestion, Auror Potter,� he said. �You can protect Mr. Malfoy��

(Even in the midst of the hell that
his life had become, Draco took the time to note that Potter apparently merited
the title he had worked for, while Draco was addressed as if he were a member
of the general public).

�And he can run his decisions on
the Death Eater case past you, sharing information that might impact your
safety with you as soon as possible.� Scrimgeour picked up the Daily Prophet
and tapped it on his desk to align the corners as if it were a sheaf of
important paperwork. �Very well, gentlemen. I wish for you to travel to Aurora
Westerling�s house as soon as possible, and learn what really happened there.
Look for clues they might have left behind. Interview neighbors. Leave no stone
unturned, even if it is a pebble.�

If he could come up with less
stupid metaphors, and if he could stop telling me how to do my job, I might
like him more, Draco thought.

Then Potter tried to take his hand
again, and Draco had to forcefully slap his wrist.

And if he hadn�t assigned me to
work with Potter, of course.

The Minister will receive certain�interesting�gifts
from the Weasels� joke shop this year.

*

�� Draco
prided himself on his ability to work as an Auror. He was good at seeing small
discrepancies�missing objects, unimportant twists of wording, and strange
hesitations�which usually proved to be more reliable clues than what was present.
He could put such emptiness together and make it produce something. Even
the instructors who hadn�t liked him had commented on it when they were testing
him for his fitness to become an Auror.

He had to admit, grumpily, that
Potter was better at talking to people, though.

Potter smiled at Westerling�s neighbors
and turned his head to the side a bit, so they could get a glimpse of the
famous scar through the fringe. That was all it took. Their faces blossomed
with�Draco thought it was joy, to his intense disgust. Let them have Potter�s
company all day, every day, and see how much they liked it.

Of course, that was the advantage
of a celebrity for an ordinary witch or wizard, he thought, arms folded and
mouth shut as Potter asked the most intrusive questions and was answered,
eagerly. They assumed that famous people would remain distant from them, and
when one did appear, they were too thrilled to notice his rudeness. And
then he would go away again, and they would probably treasure the experience
for the rest of their lives.

Potter even signed an autograph or
two when asked, and let a few people admire his wand��the wand that had killed
You-Know-Who,� as the Daily Prophet was fond of calling it. That made
Draco blink. He had heard that Potter maintained his guard of Aurors partially
so he wouldn�t ever need to do stupid favors like this for anyone.

Maybe he could be good-natured
about it when they weren�t around.

Draco doubted it, though. It was
probably part of Potter�s master plan to seduce him. Show Draco what a good
little boy he could be, how nice, how accommodating, and he assumed Draco would
melt like butter in a hot sun. After all, how could anyone resist the
charming Saint Potter?

The wizards and witches of
Hogsmeade couldn�t, that was for certain. But Draco was around Potter most days
of the week, even if it was only passing him in the Ministry corridors and
wishing he and his cronies were somewhere else. He knew the man.
Everything Potter might do in relation to Draco was false. A game to him, as he
had said. Give him three days, and he would be interested in someone else and
chasing him or her just as fiercely.

That might bother Draco all it
liked. Not that it did, of course. But he couldn�t change Potter, so what was
the point of hoping that things might be different?

Potter jogged back to him after an
interview with a particularly giggly older witch, who looked at Potter as if
she would have liked to drag him into her house and have her way with him. The
git didn�t notice, of course. Or maybe he just took such attention as his due,
Draco thought sourly. That was the most likely explanation. �She said that
Westerling left for a holiday three days ago. No one was in the house when it
was attacked.� Potter shrugged. �The others all agree on the same thing. So at
least we have no casualties.� His smile flashed, and he leaned in, destroying
the small amount of professionalism he�d begun to build up. �Shall we take
advantage of the opportunity to isolate ourselves from public view, Draco?�

�I don�t fuck in the field,� Draco
replied coolly, and strode past Potter to examine the inside of the house.
Incredibly, the broken windows and unhinged door appeared to be the only
damage. There weren�t even any scorch marks on the walls. Draco frowned and
began a long, slow examination. He couldn�t really believe that the
purpose of the attack had only been to leave the Dark Mark hovering over the
house. Even if Westerling had been a secret supporter of the Dark Lord and this
Prince wanted her to know he had found out�the most far-fetched explanation
that had occurred to Draco�he would have been stupid to warn her he was moving
ahead of time.

�Ah,� said Potter from behind him,
sounding incredibly pleased. �That must mean you fuck in the office instead. I knew
you couldn�t as snobbish as you looked!�

Draco began to study the walls. He
saw nothing unusual. Westerling appeared to have atrocious taste in portraits
and photographs, but then, that didn�t surprise Draco. She would have been
living somewhere other than Hogsmeade if she had good taste.

A hand clasped his shoulder. The
warm shiver that traveled straight down his spine did surprise him, but
only until he remembered it had been six months since his last sexual encounter
of any kind. He turned around, catching Potter�s wrist and squeezing it hard
enough to draw a gasp of surprise out of the prat.

�Don�t touch me,� he said, �unless
you�d like me to cut off your fingers, shove them down your throat, and watch
you choke to death.�

�You make good threats,� Potter
told him. His eyes were shining. Draco couldn�t make out all the emotions
behind that shine, but was sure that one of them was amusement. �I knew
you could speak eloquently. See? You don�t have to curse to impress me, Draco.�

The temptation to hit him was very
strong. Draco knew no proper Malfoy solved a dispute with fists, the Muggle
way. It was wands or hired muscle, who would not be degraded by using their
fists.

But it would have felt so good.

Draco flung Potter�s hand away and
went back to his search. The man chattered behind him, saying further inane
things, but this time Draco didn�t permit himself to hear them. Of course
Potter whinged soon enough that there was nothing to find and they should
return to the Ministry, but Draco went all the way around the house twice
before he would admit to that. It was only the ordinary residence of an
ordinary witch, and if the Death Eaters hadn�t broken her door and windows,
Draco decided the most exciting thing happening here would have been the moment
when she returned and unlocked it.

Reluctantly, he left, taking a
moment to study the door and windows closely so he could put the memory in a
Pensieve later. It seemed as though this had been an attack by Prince to show
the Death Eaters that the Dark Mark still had some power after all. Two Aurors
going to investigate it, one Harry Potter himself, would just prove that
to people like Avery and Bellatrix. And Prince would use that confidence to
urge them on to newer and better crimes.

Of course, they couldn�t have left
it uninvestigated, either. Draco just hated playing into his enemies� hands.

�What do you think, Draco?� Potter
asked.

Draco should have known better than
to fall for the trap of the softly respectful tone in Potter�s voice, really he
should have, but it sounded so reasonable that he answered before he thought
about it. �I�m thinking that Prince is more clever than this. He could take
vengeance on you by himself, if he wanted to. So he must want the Death Eaters
for something. What, though? They can�t provide him with anything that
he couldn�t get elsewhere.�

Potter gave a long, pursed-lip
sigh. �Not about that. What do you think about coming back to my house?�

Draco waved him off and strode off
to find an empty Apparition point. He was already planning his report in his
head. He would suggest that at least a few Aurors be assigned to research
Prince�s background. A powerful Dark wizard just didn�t appear from nowhere. He
had to have a provenance, and anyone strong who had vanished within the
last few months could be a good candidate.

And, in the meantime, he would make
it an official recommendation that Potter have a guard of Aurors around him at
all times.

�You�re smiling,� Potter said
quietly. �That�s good to see.�

Draco rolled his eyes and took the
fool�s arm for a Side-Along, since he couldn�t trust Potter to arrive at the
same destination if he were left to manage his Apparition on his own. Potter
leaned on him as if he were drunk and sniffed his neck. Draco controlled his
shiver expertly and Apparated them away from Hogsmeade.

*

McAbacus: Thanks! I promise this
story will stay as silly as possible.

SoftObsidian74: Harry�s really not aloof.
He�d like to get as close as possible, believe me.

Christina G: I promise that Prince
is not a matchmaking plot. ;) He has plans of his own.

Thrnbrooke, paigeey07, Roozette, Mangacat,
pinkbicyclefish, redlightspin: Thanks for reviewing!
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Keep It Simple, Stupid

Chapter Two�That Mad Potter