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Secrets & Lies	By : Digitallace Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 14570 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with the fandom, nor do I get paid to write or post this work.

Chapter List
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- 4
Author's Note: Hey look, it's me again. Back with another chapter. Yay! *Waves hands frantically in the air trying to bolster support* My Beta has left me to my own devices this week, but she should be back soon. In the meantime, I decided to post this chapter anyway. So, please ignore any minor or glaring errors as you read.
Chapter 3 Confrontation
Even with the magical listening device embedded in his ear, it was still hard to hear his partners over the booming music in the nightclub. The place was mostly dark, with patches here and there illuminated in colored light and beams through fog swaying over the dance floor and the many writhing patrons. It was just enough to keep people from bumping into furniture and make everyone seem more attractive than they really were.
Sitting on a stool at the bar, Harry sighed and swirled his untouched martini. He should have had three by now, enough liquid courage to allow him to proceed with this mission, but he was a professional, and there would be no drinking on the job tonight or any other night. "Any sign of him?" he asked, seemingly to the air, but a buzz in his ear alerted him to Hermione and Ron's presence.
"Not yet," Ron replied. Harry knew he was near the entrance, hoping to give Harry enough time to jump into action when the Slytherin prat arrived. "The bartender said he usually doesn't arrive until closer to midnight."
"Then why were we here at half ten?" Harry groaned, eating an olive from his drink.
"Because we couldn't take a chance on missing him," Hermione replied sharply from near the loo.
"Yeah yeah," Harry muttered into his glass. "What a pity that would have been."
"Activity at the door," Ron announced, interrupting them. "I have visual. The target has arrived and he has a few friends with him."
"Shit," Hermione uncharacteristically replied, mirroring Harry's thoughts. They hadn't planned for company. Malfoy usually came alone. "It's fine. We'll deal with it. Ron, how many, and do we know them?"
"Zabini, Nott and Goyle," Ron replied. "They are being escorted to a booth in the back. Bloody hell," he groaned, pulling Harry's attention toward the way Ron had spoken of. Sure enough, a shock of blond hair caught his eye and Harry followed their path. He could see exactly why Ron was so agitated.
"VIP area," he muttered. "We're screwed. We can't get in and he doesn't have to come out until he's ready to leave. He might have picked someone else up by then," Harry added, shocked at how disappointed he sounded. Of course, if he didn't bag Malfoy tonight, that only meant he would have to try again later, which wasn't in his favor. He wanted this mission over with.
Hermione sighed into the earpiece. "You could, Harry."
Harry bristled at the insinuation, even though it was likely true. After the war, the entire Wizarding world seemed to divide into two separate factions. One group, like his boss, seemed to think Potter was a show off who never earned his place and had everything delivered to him on a silver platter, while the rest thought his very footsteps were precious and would part water to give Harry anything he asked for. It was ridiculous, but it was his life and he'd been forced to deal with both reactions.
"Fine. I'll try," Harry muttered when Hermione cleared her throat sharply enough that even through the earpiece, Harry knew it was intentional.
He slipped from his seat at the bar and brushed his hair out of his face, letting his scar show plainly on his forehead. Drink in hand, he made his way slowly toward the private area, nodding at the bouncer at the velvet rope. "Evening," he greeted simply.
"Mr. Potter. Management had no idea you were gracing our establishment with your presence," said a slim man from just the other side of the rope. "Please, come in. Will anyone be joining you this evening, or would you like for me to find you some company?" the man asked, tapping the bouncer on the shoulder to allow Harry entrance.
The velvet rope lifted and Harry cocked a brow, stepping through to address the man personally. He started to wonder just what kind of club this was and how far the man would go to provide him with 'company'. But that was a mission for another night and another Auror. Harry's mission was laughing in the corner with his mates. "I might be expecting a couple friends," he answered vaguely. It wasn't ideal for both Hermione and Ron to enter the VIP area with him at this juncture of the mission, especially if Malfoy left the space to dance or use the loo. He still needed eyes and ears in the main club, but he also needed to leave it open for one or both of them to join him if he needed it.
"Of course. It was presumptuous of me to assume you needed any assistance in that area," the man bootlicked, and because Harry wanted the man to go away, and needed to play a part tonight, he merely sneered.
"Yes, it was." Without another word, Harry found a booth not too close but not too far from where Malfoy sat with his friends.
It became obvious pretty quickly why the men were there. Nott, it seemed, was getting married in the morning and the four friends were out celebrating their stag night. Harry thought of Ginny, what she must be thinking with him out on a mission to seduce Draco Malfoy. She didn't seem concerned, but Ginny wasn't one to open up with her feelings right away. Knowing her, there would be hell to pay tomorrow or later in the week even though it wasn't as if he wanted to be here.
As if the earpieces could read his mind, Ron's voice buzzed to life in his ear. "So, how did Gin take the news that you planned to fuck Malfoy tonight?"
Harry choked on his own breath. "I'm not fucking him. I just have to make it seem as though I'm willing," Harry said, cringing at the idea. It was bad enough that his target was Draco Malfoy, but moreover, he really hated deceiving people in general. Especially when it came to matters of the heart. Not that Malfoy's heart would have anything to do with it if he brought Harry home with him.
"I know mate, but you know my sis. She loves to blow things out of proportion," he replied.
"She was alarmingly understanding," Harry said and left it at that.
"Can I remind you both that the focus tonight is Draco Malfoy, not Ginny Weasley," Hermione huffed into the earpiece, startling them both. "You're going to knock Harry off his game if you keep reminding him of his girlfriend when he's supposed to be out here seducing Malfoy."
A shiver ran down Harry's spine at her last words but he bristled in defense. "I'm fine, Mione. How about you both stop chattering in my ear so that I can concentrate and get this done."
When the noise abruptly halted and all Harry could hear was the thump of music, he sighed with relief and turned in his seat to look at Malfoy. During his little debate with his friends, he'd been neglecting his target…but his target hadn't been neglecting him. Draco was staring, full on, watching Harry with a confused glint in those cold grey eyes, and Harry realized that for the past twenty minutes it must have looked like he was talking –or rather yelling- at himself.
A flush stole over his cheeks and he silently groaned. How the hell was he supposed to seduce Draco Malfoy if his first impression was to seem like a madman? He quickly recovered his scheme and tipped his head in Malfoy's direction, noting the mild sneer Draco returned as a point against his mission. What was Fledgecraft thinking sending him out here like this? Of all the people in the world, Harry was the least likely person to woo someone like Malfoy, even if it was all a ploy.
"I can't do this," he whispered and made to stand. Only the shrill voice of Hermione in his ear halted his steps.
"Yes you can," she insisted. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but I know you can be charming, Harry. Put that to good use now."
He scoffed lightly, knowing perfectly well that she'd hear, and turned back to Malfoy and his merry band of idiots. "Celebrating?" he called over, trying for a winning smile. All four men ignored him as if he'd been a whisper on the wind. So he simply got up and walked over to where they were sitting. "Celebrating?" he repeated, as if he thought they hadn't been able to hear him over the music and hadn't just ignored him outright.
"We heard you, Potter. We just weren't interested in fraternizing with poncy Gryffindors." This from Zabini, who was clearly already pissed, his current drink sloshing in his glass as he gestured wildly.
"Yeah," added Nott, nudging his friend in the ribcage, "what's the point of a VIP area if they just let any old rubbish in?"
Although Harry was an adult and their words did no more to his ego then sting it a bit, he still managed to glean a great deal from the brief, albeit rude, exchange. The first was that Malfoy winced ever-so-slightly when Zabini had called him a ponce. That could only mean one of two things. Either he was feeling a moment of protectiveness of his old Hogwarts nemesis, or his best friends didn't know that he was a lover of cock. Harry was betting on the latter.
The other thing Harry learned was that Malfoy's friends would make his job difficult, but luckily they all seemed to be well on their way to passing out in an alleyway somewhere. "Why don't I buy you lot a drink!" he offered enthusiastically, waving the waitress over. He pretended to be oblivious to the Slytherins attitude toward him and slid into the booth beside Malfoy, throwing his arm casually around the blond's shoulders, much to said-blond's dismay.
"Potter," Draco drawled, lifting Harry's arm as if it was infected with some kind of contagious flesh eating disease and tossed it away from his person, "have you gone completely mental?"
Harry donned a look of confusion, taking a moment to bat his dark lashes before glancing at the rest of the dumbfounded friends. "No. Course not. I was just trying to be friendly! We're all adults now, why can't we be civil?"
"We just…can't," Malfoy replied, as if he was equally puzzled over Potter's logic. The waitress came over with glasses of what each bloke was already drinking and they all eyed them greedily, regardless of who bought them. "Look, thanks for the drinks, but this is a private party. I'm sure you understand," Malfoy added with a sneer.
"Sure, sure. I understand," Harry said, moving to get up. But just before he slid from the vinyl of the booth, he took a chance and leaned into Malfoy's body, pressing close to his porcelain ear. "I'll be having a private party of my own later…if you're free," he whispered in what he hoped was a seductive purr. He feared he fell short, especially when he heard the sound of poorly concealed laughter filling his ears. For a moment he flushed, thinking that Malfoy was blatantly scoffing at him, but he quickly realized the fit of giggles was coming from Ron through his earpiece. He gritted his teeth and vowed to strangle his ginger partner the moment this nightmare of an evening was over.
Malfoy, thankfully, wasn't laughing at all. He looked mildly shocked, but he quickly recovered and gave Harry and amused smirk. "Good one, Potter. See you around, yeah?"
"Count on it," Harry replied with a wink and sauntered – or at least he desperately hoped it looked like sauntering – out of the VIP area and toward the dance floor where Hermione was waiting.
He rolled his eyes as soon as she came into view. "Your fiancé won't make it to the wedding if he keeps being such a childish arse," Harry warned.
"Oi," his friend heard over the earpiece but ignored it.
"I'll deal with him," Hermione assured, casting a glare in the direction Harry knew Ron to be surveying. "You made decent progress."
"You're not seriously referring that travesty of epic proportions as progress," Harry scoffed. "Were you even listening?"
"You took him off guard," she pointed out. "You made him wonder, if for only a minute. You planted the seed, now we just have to nurture it to grow."
"You sound like Neville," Harry noted with a frown.
"Stop being so stubborn, Harry," she grumbled. "I guarantee he's thinking about you right now."
"Fuck off, Mione." But sure enough, as Harry cast a glance back at the blond prat he found Malfoy watching him. "Well, look at that," he all but preened.
"See," Hermione cooed, a smug grin on her face that would rival any Slytherin. "Now, let's test it, give him more reason to wonder."
Her words made Harry nervous and he had every right to be, because no sooner than the words left her mouth, she was shoving Harry onto the dance floor. "Hermione, what are you up to?" Ron asked through their magical link.
"Making Malfoy want what he can't have," she replied. "It's a classic attraction maneuver." Turning to Harry, she grinned. "Choose someone that would make Malfoy jealous."
"Malfoy has no reason to be jealous," Harry pointed out.
"Just pick someone," Hermione repeated, he tone somewhat testy.
Harry scanned the crowd, all lithe bodies gyrating to the music. This was a test for Malfoy, but it was a test for him as well. If he couldn't dance with one of these blokes and fool Malfoy from afar, he stood no chance of tricking the blond when they were up close and personal. "Alright," he huffed, nodding toward a fit bloke near the center. His hair just grazed his shoulders and was a deep crimson that reminded Harry of what Ginny's looked like under candlelight. He wore a simple pair of dark-washed denims and a plain white shirt, which Harry appreciated amongst so many people dressing to impress.
Before he could ask Hermione what to do, she was worming her way through the crowd, stopping in front of the gentleman in question. She leaned in and spoke to him for a long moment, then the man's gaze flicked over to Harry and he felt his cheeks heat. Harry's embarrassment was met with a warm smile, a nod and a wave for Harry to accompany him.
"I hate you," Harry hissed in Hermione's direction as she passed him on his way into the center of the dance floor.
"You Love me," she chirped in a singsong voice that echoed through the earpiece.
"Hi," Harry greeted lamely, but his new dance partner didn't seem the least put off. If anything he seemed charmed.
"So, you're friend said you need to make an ex jealous?" he said, starting to rock his hips to the beat of the music.
Harry sputtered slightly but recovered quickly and nodded. "Yeah. He's over there with his friends and she thought it would be a good idea…."
His voice trailed off as he heard Ron's voice tittering in his ear. "What happened to the private party, Harry?" he asked and Harry just knew his friend was making some sort of crude pelvic thrust to accompany his taunt.
Harry ignored his 'friend' as best he could and caught the tail end of his new friend's story about some git who had dumped him recently and how he'd only wished he'd gotten the opportunity to make him jealous. "Yeah….it's not usually my style, but when will another opportunity like this come up?" he played along.
"Well, let's get to it then," the bloke said, his voice the seductive purr Harry had wished his had been earlier that night. "I'm Geoff."
"Harry," he replied in turn and did his best to look cozy as the man wound his arms around Harry's waist and began to grind in time with the music. He tried to relax into the beat, letting himself go as he tried to remember this was all for the mission. Slowly he allowed his Auror instincts to settle into the background and began to dance in earnest, spurred on by the sultry smile Geoff was giving him.
"It's working," Hermione informed him, the earpiece coming to life with a crackle. Harry found he'd nearly forgotten the unobtrusive object as he was dancing, although that was probably only because Hermione had threatened Ron with celibacy if he didn't stop his antics.
"It seems to be working," Geoff said, unknowingly mirroring Hermione's words, his head bobbing softly in Malfoy's direction as he stalked across the club and onto the dance floor. Harry let himself look, locking his gaze with Malfoy's smoldering grey as he slinked possessively closer.
"A word, Potter?" he demanded, nearly shoving himself between the other men.
"Malfoy? What do you need?" Harry responded, his grin all casual aloofness
Geoff held up his hands and backed off, shooting Harry a wink in the process. "Hey, I don't want any trouble. I didn't know he had a boyfriend."
The immediate reaction to that title sent Malfoy's skin into such a brilliant shade of pink that Harry could have kissed Geoff for playing along so brilliantly. "He's not my boyfriend," he bit out.
"Pity," Geoff said. "This one's special. If he were mine, I'd hold onto him."
Draco glowered, directing the look between Harry and Geoff alike, before dragging Harry from the dance floor and into a dark corner near the loo. "What are you playing at, Potter?" he hissed when they were alone.
Harry merely shrugged, marveling at how perfectly Hermione's plan was falling together. He knew it shouldn't after all this time, but her cleverness still surprised him on occasion. "I was hoping to be playing with you, but you didn't seem interested."
"Oh gods," spluttered a squeaky whimper in his earpiece. "I can't take it…I just…." The words faded into a high-pitched snicker that had Harry squinting.
"Merlin, Ron. Would you grow up!" he heard Hermione shout and then there was silence. She must have disconnected the feed so that Harry could concentrate - another reason he had to thank her later.
Draco narrowed his eyes, obviously suspicious. "You're up to something, Potter. I just can't figure out what…but I will," he warned, giving Harry one last lingering look before storming off, back to his friends.
Harry sagged against the wall, watching Malfoy retreat along with any chance of completing his task tonight. Somehow the plan had backfired and instead of Malfoy being putty in his hands, he was more suspicious than ever. He sighed and tapped his inner ear, as if that would turn the earpiece back on. It didn't, of course, and only served to illuminate Harry's isolation in that sliver of time.
Instead of rounding up his not-so-helpful partners, Harry slipped out the back door of the club, disappearing down the alley and Apparating to Grimmauld Place, grateful to find it empty for once. Without hesitation, Harry climbed into bed, not even bothering to shower the club funk from his skin and he slept soundly, the beat of obscure music and the face of his target floating through his mind.
Author's Note: Oooh…that sounded ominous, didn't it? Anyhow, one cranky-pants Draco doll for all who are sweet enough to review.
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