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Changing of the Guard	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 58627 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Thank you very much for all the reviews!

Chapter Two�Need a
Perfect Stranger?

�� Draco met
the owl in the gardens, holding up a steady arm as the bird angled towards him.
It was a great horned owl, but bleached white as a snowy, with a silvery sheen
to the feathers. This distinctive bird came from Metamorphosis, and Draco tried
to still his own excitement with a deep breath. Just because the Manager of
Metamorphosis had responded to his letter didn�t mean he�d accepted the case.
He could have been returning a polite refusal whilst he concentrated on solving
somebody else�s problem.

�� Draco�s
hands really were steady, and his mind really clear, when he opened the letter.
If this plan failed, then he would contact Blaise, who was living abroad now,
and ask him to pose as his boyfriend.
Blaise would think the whole thing was a scream, and since he didn�t live in
England, being ostracized there wouldn�t bother him.

He held onto his calm until he
opened the letter and scanned the first lines.

�� June 1^st, 2010

�� Dear Draco Malfoy:

�� I am happy to tell you that Metamorphosis
will indeed accept your case.

�� Draco
closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards. He exhaled a long, shaky
breath, The owl on his shoulder shifted a little and stuck a talon in his skin as
if reminding him not to faint.

�� The moment
of weakness was past quickly. Draco had become an expert at concealing what he
felt in the last few years, so his parents didn�t even suspect he was tired of
their restrictions and ready to rebel against them. But his real emotions
remained alive, shimmering, under the surface, so he read the rest of the
letter with a cool face and an increasingly fast heartbeat.

�� I have several actors who may fit your
requirements. If you will meet me in the Hog�s Head at one this afternoon, I
will be happy to show you their photographs and discuss other requirements you
may have, as well as payment.

�� Sincerely,

�� The Manager of Metamorphosis.

�� Draco
nodded, more than satisfied. The letter was courteous but not overly so, which
would have smacked of smarm. And there was no crass hinting about a certain amount
of money now. That would be settled when they met, in the way that pure-bloods
had always preferred to do business. Draco wondered idly if the Manager was a
pure-blood.

�� He had
three hours to get ready.

�� First,
though, he needed to locate some owl treats for this magnificent bird, and then
he would write the letter and have the owl carry it back. He stroked the
feathers once, with an impulsive affection, and walked back towards the Manor.

�� His mother
was reading in the large back room that stretched three-quarters of the length
of the house, and served at once as both study and conservatory. She looked up
when he came in, and raised her eyebrows. �That�s a rather fine owl,� she said.
�A new purchase?� Her voice was not, of course, edged with concern. The Malfoy
family had kept its money after the war, and even increased it in recent years.

�� Draco
chuckled. �No, just Pansy being extravagant. She�s invited me for tea this
afternoon.� The lie flowed smoothly from his lips, even as he looked at
Narcissa affectionately. He had become very fond of his parents as he prepared
to shock and betray them. They were so much themselves
that he found pleasure in interacting with them, as totally unique
personalities.

�� He hoped
absently that the actor chosen to play his boyfriend would have such a personality.
He already knew what he wanted, but there was no reason that Metamorphosis
should be able to provide every single tiny aesthetic liking to match his
request. He would be happy enough if they met the broad outlines.

�� Well, don�t
be late, then, dear.�

�� Narcissa�s
smile was brilliant. She never had given up hope that he would marry Pansy,
though Draco knew Pansy preferred the Muggle lover she kept in secret to anyone
the wizarding world could offer her. And though Draco himself slept with both
men and women, Pansy would not have been his first choice. She was a dear
friend, and that was all she was.

�� I won�t,�
he said, and went to fetch owl treats, parchment, and ink. He knew he wouldn�t
seem suspicious now. That was the wonderful thing about telling a lie close
enough to the truth to seem easily believable: other people saw you acting just
as you were supposed to act and accepted the lie even more.

�� I wonder if the Manager of Metamorphosis is
as good a liar as I am?

*

�� Harry
stepped into the Hog�s Head, in his guise as the Manager, precisely at one.
Aberforth glanced up, saw him, and grunted once, nodding before he looked away.
He had done business with the Manager before, and so long as Harry and his
customers were quiet and neat and left generous money, he�d protect their right
to privacy fiercely.

�� Harry
located Malfoy at once, but only because he had so much experience with
glamours. Malfoy had cast a half-shield over his table that hid his distinctive
hair and made nothing very interesting seem to be happening in that direction.
Harry felt an eager smile slide over his face. To work with someone talented in
disguise spells would be exciting,
since that brought up the chance that he could see through Harry�s own.

�� Then Harry
reminded himself he wasn�t supposed to be having such thoughts. It was the
Manager here at the moment, not Malfoy�s boyfriend, and Harry had to play that
part to the fullest. He shifted the portfolio under his arm, transferred the
lemon sherbet he was sucking on from one cheek to the other, and then marched
towards Malfoy�s table.

�� Malfoy saw
him coming and rose to his feet. The move surprised Harry, though of course he
didn�t allow that to show on his face or in his stride. He would not have
received such courtesy a few years ago; he didn�t think anyone would have.

�� But you are not Harry Potter, and this is
not the boy you knew.

�� Decidedly
not, Harry saw, when he reached the table and put out his hand, to have it
shaken firmly. Malfoy had grown into the features that had once seemed so
narrow and angular for his face, and then grown beyond them. He looked hardened
now, rugged, though so far as Harry was aware, he managed a business instead of
working in the field. And yet his jaw and chin were also chiseled, making him
look like one of the exquisitely modeled male statues that were one of Harry�s
few luxuries in his own form.

�� Harry
reminded himself not to be a fool, and nodded briskly once, then sat down on
the other side of the table. Malfoy took the seat opposite him with a fluid
economy of motion. Studying him, Harry rejected one of the imaginary personas
he�d brought along right away. Malfoy would need someone who could keep up with
him to make him look good on a dance floor or even just strolling along a
street, and that persona had a bad leg.

�� Malfoy
might not be aware he needed a companion
like that, of course. But Harry was used to reading people and suiting their
unconscious as well as their conscious requirements.

�� Mr.
Malfoy.� Harry raised a hand, and Aberforth was there with mugs of butterbeer.
If Malfoy found the drink too distasteful or lower-class, he didn�t say so,
though he did place the mug in front of him untouched. Probably prefers Firewhiskey, Harry thought. Possibly something else. �It�s a pleasure to meet you. Now. I
believe you said in your letter that you wanted someone who would not mind
playing gay, someone not too hideous?� He waved his wand, casting a privacy
charm around the table, subtle and nearly undetectable.

�� Malfoy
blinked. �Your magic is impressive, sir.�

�� Call me
the Manager. It�s the only name I have.� And it was. Harry had never bothered
to come up with a name for the form he originally met all his clients in when
he only needed a title. �Thank you. Long practice.� He began removing
parchments from the portfolio and arranging them in neat stacks on the table,
spelling away the wet rings of former mugs where they might have been a
problem. �I have seven candidates for you based on your initial requirements.
They are different in personality, looks, blood status, magical strength��

�� I said
blood status and magical strength didn�t matter.� Malfoy�s voice had cooled, as
if he suspected Harry hadn�t read his letter thoroughly but was too polite to
say so aloud.

�� Harry
glanced up and winked. The Manager had grotesque winks, but at the same time
they were so cheerful they encouraged his clients to play along. It worked as
usual, and he saw Malfoy relax with a little huff. �Oh, I know that, sir. But
Metamorphosis is about finding you the perfect
stranger. If we can suit your preferences in any way, then we will.� He
leaned back. Each pile of parchment now had a photograph on top of it,
wizarding photographs displaying Harry in various identities he�d created but
hadn�t used yet. �Take your pick, sir. The files should tell you everything you
need to know.�

*

�� Draco was
very carefully hiding how impressed he was, though he was sure the squat, fat
little Manager could sense it. Said Manager reminded him of a cross between
Flitwick and Hagrid. His hair and beard were flowing, wild manes of red on his
tiny body, but he wore a neatly tailored set of gray robes and spoke with an
accent that indicated he�d had the very best schooling. Draco could easily
ignore what someone looked like when they were offering him everything he
wanted.

�� He began to
glance through the files. The Manager leaned back in his seat and pretended to
ignore him, leaving Draco as much privacy as possible when they still shared a
table. Draco felt a moment�s wonder. Metamorphosis really was as good as all his friends had promised.

�� The first
photograph confronting him was of a short, sandy-haired wizard with a shy grin.
His file said he was Thomas Ledbetter, half-blood, of an age that would put him
several years behind Draco in Hogwarts. He admired Quidditch but had never been
able to play it. He admired and envied pure-blood culture and had studied it
extensively. His magical strength was normal. His personality was retiring,
calm; he preferred to let his partners take the lead.

�� Draco
frowned thoughtfully and moved that parchment under the others. Ledbetter was
potentially interesting, but Draco thought he would probably need a more fiery
partner to stand up to the assaults Lucius and Narcissa would launch.

�� The second
photograph made Draco�s mouth go dry and his groin ache. The wizard, leaning
against a wall with one boot poised on it, glanced up at him once and winked,
then arched his neck back and licked his lips with a lascivious, cat-like yawn.
His skin was deep black, so black as to seem blue, but he didn�t quite resemble any of the Black people
Draco had ever met. His hair was fiery red, probably dyed, and his robes clung
to him so tightly as to seem indecent. His eyes were brilliant, deep green. He
was Purity, no last name, Muggleborn wizard, entirely self-educated�his family
had refused him permission to go to Hogwarts, and indeed hadn�t liked having a
wizard in the family at all�fond of dancing and sex and yelling at people.

�� Probably not, Draco decided regretfully.
He could have some good times in bed with Purity, and the name was wonderful,
but he wanted to give the appearance that he was simply gay and did not care
about his parents� opinions. Enraging them, as Purity would do, was not on the
agenda. This was a deliberate rebellion, but the whole point was that his
parents would not think it so.

�� He glanced
up to find the Manager watching him politely from the corner of an eye, hands
curled around his stomach. �I do have some more specific requirements, if you�d
like to hear them,� he said.

�� The Manager
nodded, not even showing a hint of anger that Draco hadn�t finished looking at
the rest of the files. �What are they, sir?�

�� I need
someone who can act polite no matter what kind of shit my parents�or other
people�happen to throw at him,� Draco said, beginning to tick the points off on
his fingers. He would have felt uncomfortable indulging in such a childish
behavior before almost anyone else, but the Manager relaxed him. �I need at
least moderate magical strength; I find it arousing.� He shrugged. �I still don�t
care about blood status, but I would prefer someone who knows pure-blood manners, whether or not he was born to them. I
need a versatile man, capable of
fitting into both my manor�s dining room and a Quidditch crowd well. Looks�I don�t
want an incredibly handsome man, because I don�t want others fighting with me
to flirt with him, but too ugly and people will wonder why I chose him, and
maybe suspect this isn�t real. Of course, he should also be a good liar.�

�� What about
in bed?� the Manager asked, without turning a hair. He had nodded to all of
Draco�s other points.

�� I�d prefer
skill there, as well, of course,� said Draco. �But if you have a straight actor
willing to play gay who meets all the other requirements, I�ll forego that. We
don�t have to sleep together, after all, only convince others that we are.� He
leaned back in his seat, feeling a smile widen almost unconsciously across his
face. The Manager was someone he could show his emotions to and not worry about
their coming back to bite him; in fact, it was for the best that he show his
emotions, so the Manager could honestly evaluate what Draco needed.

�� The
heavyset man hummed under his breath, then flicked his wand and gathered up all
the stacks of parchment on the table. Draco�s heart gave an extra thump. �You
have no one who will fit my requirements?� he asked tightly.

�� I do have
someone.� The Manage looked him right in the eye. His eyes were a faint, watery
blue, but sincere. Draco relaxed again. �But before I introduce him to you, I
need to know one more thing. You said in your letter that your mother will need
to be pushed in a different direction than your father. What did you mean by
that? The answer might disqualify the candidate I present to you, depending.�

�� Depending?�
Draco raised his eyebrows.

�� He really
doesn�t feel any sexual interest for women,� the Manager said dryly. �If he�s
required to flirt with someone as experienced in the social scene as your
mother, I can�t guarantee he�d be able to fool her.�

�� Draco
laughed aloud. �No flirting required!� Then he sobered, and thought for a
moment as to how best to explain it, rehearsing the words he�d already gathered.
Yes, they will do. �My mother has a
faith in me that my father does not,� he explained. �Lucius is aware of the
tension between us, though I�m confident he has no idea what I plan to do about
it. My mother isn�t. She thinks I�ll always come around to honoring the family�s
wishes and putting my own desires second if at all, no matter how long it takes
me. It will be hard to convince her that I�m serious about this, because of her hope. She�ll hang on to her
perception of me long past the point where my father has cursed my name and
told me to get out of his house. And unless we convince her, she�ll eventually
wear Lucius down before I�ve made my own independent name and fortune.�

�� Your own
independent name and fortune is very important to you,� the Manager noted.

�� Oh, yes.�
Draco leaned forwards across the table. �My father hates admitting he was wrong. He still won�t admit that he was wrong
to get us involved in that stupid war, on the losing side; the farthest he�s
gone is to no longer admit he was right quite so loudly. And now he is
pressuring me to break off my business because he�s found I deal with people
who aren�t pure-blooded.� Draco could feel his lip curl. �He believes I�m his
obedient little son, his puppet,
Lucius Mark Two. I want to show him that I�m my own man, and then I want him to
crawl to my feet, begging me to
accept the Malfoy name and inheritance again.�

�� You�re his
only son,� the Manger said softly. �I know how important that is to pure-blood
families. You�re certain he won�t just make his peace with your apparent
sexuality in order to retain you as heir?�

�� Hates to
admit he�s wrong, remember?� Draco shook his head. �And this would mean
admitting he was completely wrong about where my interests lay for almost thirty years. Besides, a truly gay son,
which he�ll think he has for a while, would be of no use to him as far as perpetuating
the Malfoy line goes.�

�� So you
need someone who can stand up to your mother, the tears and the long waiting
she might employ, and someone who can brave your father�s rages,� the Manager
said. �Someone almost fearless, in other words.� He smiled a little. �I have
the perfect candidate for you, as long as you don�t mind that he was in the
equivalent of Gryffindor House at his own school.�

�� Draco
laughed, thinking of a few past lovers. �House is the last thing that matters
to me now.�

�� Very well.�
The Manager concentrated for a moment, then flicked his wand. A file appeared
floating in midair beside him. The Manager handed it over with a little bow. �I
give you�Brian Montgomery.�

*

�� Harry felt
prickles of excitement running up his chest like Jarvey feet as he extended he
folder. Brian Montgomery was a persona he had created soon after the beginning
of Metamorphosis and had never dared use, because he was just a little too much
like Harry Potter. The last thing Harry could have afforded at that juncture,
when people still thought they knew him, was for someone to connect his name
and Metamorphosis.

�� But it was
ten years now since most people had seen Harry Potter acting as himself in
public. Harry was confident certain impressions had passed off. People would remember
him as the hero or not at all.

�� And Brian
Montgomery was no hero.

�� Malfoy�s
eyebrows rose as he read the file. Harry leaned back in his seat, grinning,
though in the Manager form that manifested as only a tiny smile. He could have recited
the details in his sleep:

�� Brian
Montgomery was a half-blood, son of a Muggle and a witch named Emma Handler who�d
run away from home very young to live among Muggles, apparently because of �troubles
with her father.� His parents had moved restlessly outside the British Isles
and then back, following his father�s work in the developing computer business,
but after the age of eleven Brian had stayed firmly ensconced at a very small wizarding
school in New Zealand, called the Five Dragons. He�d left with honors in New
Zealand�s equivalent of the N.E.W.T.s, specifically in Defense Against the Dark
Arts and Transfiguration. Potions had been his worst subject. He didn�t think
he was very good at flying, because he could never master certain specific turns.

�� Having come
into a small legacy as a present from a grateful, rich friend whose life he�d
saved in their seventh year together, Brian had immediately used it to move
back to Britain and absorb the wizarding culture he considered his own despite
so many frequent moves. He was a master of manners and pure-blood social
culture, of difficult spells, and of most of the subjects taught at Hogwarts.
He�d considered being an Auror, but decided regretfully that he wasn�t quite that good with curses.

�� He�d decided
to go on the Muggle stage when his money ran out, and found out he was
extremely good at it. (That was actually true; Harry, as Brian, had starred in
a few Muggle plays and had people applaud him. He didn�t enjoy it that much,
but Brian did, and it was important to build as much experience as possible
that would stand up to a fact-check). But he still considered himself a wizard
first and foremost, so he hired out as an independent curse-breaker and
hex-remover, and did well there, too. He was most proud of his ability to fit
in anywhere at a few moments� notice. His lying ability helped with that, but
so did his very good memory for faces and names.

�� His magical
strength was great enough that he was capable of overwhelming the more sensitive
wizards he worked with, like Seers. That didn�t bother Brian. He accepted it as
a limitation, and set up shields around himself when he had to. He was also
very good in bed, but he used that without stint to overwhelm his lovers.

�� The
photograph showed him with messy black hair that was Harry�s and a face that
resembled Harry�s in outline, though with just enough features turned slightly
different ways to render the resemblance hard to grasp. The lightning bolt scar
became a thin red line on his forehead,
souvenir of the incident in which he�d saved his friend from drowning and
banged his head on a rock. His eyes were brilliant blue and danced mockingly up
at the viewer. He conveyed irrepressible energy and buoyant self-confidence,
probably too much. He�d written down as his greatest fault that he really
needed to learn to shut up and listen more often.

�� Harry had
hesitated to use Brian all these years, but he�d always been proud of his
creation and never dreamed of discarding him. And now�

�� Harry gave
the Manager�s small smile again. He knew that expression. On Malfoy, it was
less than it was on many of his clients; he had almost perfect control of his
face. But his gray eyes widened a little and took on a gentle, dreamy luster,
and he had reached out as if to caress the photograph. That he hadn�t completed
the gesture didn�t matter.

�� Hooked. Another victory for Metamorphosis.

*

�� Draco
barely heard the Manager asking him if Montgomery was suitable. He had a hard
time tearing his eyes away from that grinning, excited, exciting face. And the biography�God. He was tailored for Draco.

�� He would
have been suspicious if he hadn�t heard before about how good Metamorphosis
was. He didn�t care if this man was lying a little in his biography, as long as
he could actually practice what he preached.

�� Draco
glanced up with a narrow smile. �He�s perfect,� he said. �And price is no
object.� He shrugged. �I can�t say how long I�ll need him. I�d suspect at least
a month, maybe two.�

�� And I definitely can�t say how long I�ll
want him.

�� The Manager
nodded. �Then the usual fee is seven hundred Galleons.�

�� Draco
reached for his moneypouch without a blink, now and then casting a glance at
the photograph. Montgomery winked at him, casually licked a finger, and smeared
it across his lips.

�� Draco felt
himself harden.

�� Yes. Oh, yes.

*

�� Harry
raised a little eyebrow as he accepted the money. Malfoy hadn�t winced at the
price. He must be even more taken than usual.

�� Well, that�s all right. After all, I�ll
provide him with absolutely everything he needs. Harry hid a smile as he
watched Malfoy lean back in his seat and stare a little longer. And it�ll be my pleasure to do so.

*

�� Celestialuna:
Thanks very much!

�� Lacegag:
Thank you! I�m really excited about this story; I think the plot is the most
complex I�ve done in a while, but it also provides plenty of chances for humor
along with angst.

�� I keep on
top of it by writing every day that I can, and not accepting excuses from
myself.

�� Harrydraco4life:
At the moment, Harry has no reason to treat Draco differently from any other
client, and he definitely doesn�t want his name connected with Metamorphosis.
Thus, he won�t tell Draco the truth right away.

�� ProfessorSibly:
Thank you!

�� Tac: I
think I know what you mean from the summary, oddly enough. ;) Can you tell me
where the spelling mistakes were?

�� Faery:
Thanks! That will continue; as you�ve seen here, both Harry and Draco are
dedicated to thinking circles around people, and to do that they have to understand
them psychologically.

�� (And don�t
worry, I understand your English fine).

�� Prettypinkpony:
Thanks. That was one of the reasons for beginning the story that way, so that
the reader would know something about how Harry worked.

�� This story
should be updated every third day.

�� Do you want
me to put you on a mailing list for this story?

�� Luvdonite:
Thank you!

�� Shadow:
Every third day! And thanks.

�� Paigeey007:
Wow, I�m glad! And that�s a lot of p�s.

�� Dezra:
Right. Harry plays every single role, and nobody knows it�s him.

�� Lunatic
with a hero complex: Thank you! I can see Harry wanting to hide, but this is a
new way, I think. I believe you�re already on the regular mailing list for my
other stories, but Gmail was having a problem with Hotmail addresses on Monday.

�� KLS: Thank
you!

�� Mangacat:
Thanks! And yes, there will be lots of humor. Lucius and Narcissa literally won�t
be able to believe their eyes at first.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Here it is.

�� Ramandu:
You�ll learn more about Harry�s discovery of his sexuality, yes. Basically, he
and Ginny had a nice long talk.

�� MoonTart:
Thanks!

�� Yume111:
Thank you! In a way, you can think of this as a way some of my Harry and Draco
characterizations might have matured; they�re both older here than I normally
write them.� And yes, possibly this is
Harry�s Slytherin side.
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Changing of the Guard