Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Who Do You Think You Are?	By : sharinganswirl Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4687 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no money from the creation of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor am I making any money from this story.
A/N: SOO sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up! Life got a little busy. Got into grad school, joined a community band, work is busy... just life. :) Anyway, here's the moment you've all been waiting for! Enjoy!
And please review! Let me know what you'd like to happen! I'm at Chapter 5/6 now, it's getting tense!
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Chapter 3
Briskly walking through the puddles of water on the sidewalk, Draco held an umbrella up for appearance's sake, as he had every known water-repelling charm applied full force to his person. The only reason he had the umbrella was because he had had to journey through a couple of muggle streets to get to The Witch's Brew.
He was preoccupied with the subject of his pending meeting and nearly bowled over a woman exiting a shop, who glared at him harshly before scurrying down the lane. Forcing himself to stop, he glanced up and noticed that this was the place he needed to be. A wooden sign hung down from a pole above boasting the name of the establishment, The Witch's Brew, along with a figure of a witch stirring a rather large cauldron.
'How uneconomical to be using a cauldron that size,' the potions expert in himself muttered.
Taking a breath, Draco pushed the door open and was embraced by the heady scent of coffee.
Draco had always enjoyed the scent of coffee, but never developed a taste for it. He had tried, since his mother enjoyed it in the evenings, but he found he could never find the right combination of cream or sugar. He wondered if this place served tea.
As he mused, his eyes cast a glance around the room, looking for a gentleman reading a book. There were a couple, but when his eyes clashed with wide green ones, he knew he didn't need to look any further.
Potter.
It all made sense, now that Draco knew. Of course Potter would want to know more about his family, which is probably how his genealogy career started, he concluded. Furthermore, the need for secrecy. How the wizarding world would explode when they found out that their own Savior was doing research on family genetic history! He would never get a moment's rest! Draco could almost pity him that. Almost.
Now, what to do with that information?
There honestly wasn't anything he could do. He knew that Potter had probably deduced that Draco was "Mr. Seeker" and would be able to keep his secret career secret by threat of exposing Draco's. In conclusion, Draco decided to just get the blood bath over with, make peace (or as much of it as they could), and get to work.
After all, Draco always got what he wanted. And right now he wanted his family tree.
All of these thoughts taking about two seconds, Draco tilted his mouth upward into an old and familiar smirk and headed toward Harry's table.
"Mr. Pickering," came the deep drawl. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Indeed," was Harry's short reply.
Harry's brain had also done some serious quick thinking when Malfoy had entered the café. He knew that Malfoy wanted secrecy, and it was obvious why. Harry also knew he wanted to do this job, especially since the Malfoy's were a very powerful and well known family. Of course, nobody would ever know what Harry was about to do for the Malfoy's, but the information could come in handy. Someday.
The only thing that Harry had to worry about right this moment, was to establish trust. Finding a needle in a haystack would have been easier.
Harry and Malfoy's personal history was a long and tremulous one. Even after the War, and the resulting Death Eater Trials, Malfoy always popped up when Harry least expected it, always to say just the right thing to get Harry fuming again. Though years had passed, and maturity had reached its peak, Malfoy always brought out the worst in Harry. Even Ron had made more than one comment about how Malfoy could always get under Harry's skin.
Putting on his mental game face, Harry gestured to the chair opposite him.
"Please have a seat, Malfoy."
Nodding his head, Malfoy took a few steps forward and pulled out the chair, seating himself with the best posture he could manage. Harry mentally rolled his eyes.
"Can I get you some coffee? What's your pleasure?" Harry tried a smile, 'tried' being the operative word. Harry felt that it came out more like a grimace.
Malfoy did grimace. "None for me, thank you. Do they serve tea?" Malfoy looked toward the bar, squinting toward the handwritten chalk menu.
"I'm sure they do, though I've never tried it. What kind?" Harry stood, preparing to make a break for the bar.
"Earl Grey is adequate," Malfoy waved a dismissive hand.
Gritting his teeth, Harry spun away and all but stalked to the bar.
"I should put milk in his tea… serves the git right,' Harry fumed.
Shaking himself, Harry ordered the tea and ordered himself to get some control. It wouldn't do to get angry with Malfoy before they even began to talk business.
Accepting the tea, Harry grabbed some sugar and a lemon slice before heading back to the table.
"I didn't know what you preferred in your tea," Harry said as he offered the sugar and lemon.
"Both, thank you." Malfoy busied himself by opening all of the sugar packets Harry provided and pouring them. Harry's jaw dropped. He had grabbed five.
"Are you trying to catch flies, Potter?" Malfoy drawled.
Harry snapped his jaw shut. "Hardly," he did his best to drawl back. "It's just twice now you've said 'thank-you' to me. Forgive me, it's a tad shocking."
Malfoy's lip curled up in a slight imitation of a smile. "Well, Potter, you could say 'you're welcome' instead of behaving like a heathen." His sharp grey eyes lifted to meet Harry's bright green ones.
Feeling a bolt of heat shoot through him, Harry nearly gasped. Filing the sensation away for further evaluation later, he nodded his head a fraction and said two simple words.
"You're welcome."
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Harry was surprised to see the light on in his living room when he got home a few hours later. Knowing his wards were strong enough to kill any unwanted intruder, Harry knew it had to be a friendly face.
"Um, hello?" he cautioned.
A muffled curse and a crash of boxes sounded to the left. Harry peaked over seeing a cloud of dust and wild hair sticking out from between boxes. Wincing, Harry dropped his briefcase by the door and picked his way around the chaos.
"Mione?"
"I can't stand it!" Hermione all but screamed as she shot up off the ground, boxes flying to crash in an even more haphazard manner.
Blinking in surprise, Harry stuck out a hand to help steady the boxes and his friend from toppling over again.
"Uh, what can't you stand?"
"This mess!"
Even more confused, Harry looked around. As if seeing it for the first time, Harry felt a blush of shame crawl up his neck and face. There were almost all of his moving boxes, still mostly packed, but what made it more embarrassing was the dust covering them, the coffee cups, the dishes placed where ever most convenient, and… was that a dead mouse in the corner?!
Harry realized he couldn't remember the last time he had vacuumed. He didn't think he had vacuumed since he moved in.
"I'm sorry, Hermione…"
"Don't even start with me!" Hermione huffed. Grabbing her wand, she pointed it at Harry, who backed up quickly, almost upending another stack of boxes. "You listen here, Harry James Potter. You and I are going to get this apartment into tip top shape and we're going to do it now!"
"But, Hermione…"
"Don't you 'But Hermione' me! It's been almost two months since you moved in, Harry! Count them, two! Most people unpack and get all settled in a week or a month at most! What are you doing with yourself? It's not healthy!" Panting, Hermione turned around, surveying the disaster. "You work too hard, you don't have a place to relax. With all this dust, dirt, moldy food plates, and dead things, it's a wonder you haven't gotten sick."
So, she had seen the dead mouse, too, Harry mused.
"And!" She whirled back around, wand wild. "You have magic, Harry! Lots of it! Are you really so lazy and distracted that you can't wave your wand around and put things were they belong?" To demonstrate, Hermione flicked her wand at a box and immediately the box began to empty, the contents flying toward a nearby bookshelf. Nodding in satisfaction, Hermione looked back to Harry. "We're doing this now."
"It's nearly 8!" Harry truly didn't care what time it was, he just wanted to start digging on the Malfoy family history…
"Oh, stuff it. Grab your wand." Hermione began to chant and flick her way around the room.
Resigned, Harry pushed Malfoy to the back of his mind as best as he could. Nothing could compete with a woman on a rampage, especially if that woman was Hermione Granger.
Ron was a lucky man.
It was nearly two in the morning by the time Hermione and Harry collapsed on his freshly cleaned couch.
"Remind me to never let my flat get that dirty again," Harry moaned, head propped up by an armrest.
Hermione gave a weak chuckle. "You bet."
Harry peered over at his friend, who was occupying the other half of the couch, looking ready to pass out. "Won't Ron miss you?"
Hermione nodded her head. "He knows I'm here."
Harry grunted in reply. Ron could have at least warned him of Hermione's intentions.
"He would have warned you, but you were with your potential new customer," Hermione continued.
"Get out of my head." Harry's thoughts were suddenly thrown back to his encounter with Malfoy.
Hermione chuckled. "You're too easy to read. So, is it anybody we would know? Are you going to take the job?"
Harry shook his head. "I'm sworn to secrecy, but yes, it's somebody you know." He knew he should stick with as close to the truth as possible. He was a terrible liar. "I haven't decided if I'm going to take the job yet. He gave me a few things to look into, and it seems interesting enough, but it could be somewhat… difficult to work with him."
Hermione nodded. "I suspected as much. It's hard for people to just see you as you and not as The Chosen One. It may be difficult for them to trust you, as strange as that sounds."
Harry let Hermione believe that it was only his fame that would cause a difficult working relationship between himself and his client. He was skating on thin ice. If he went into any further detail, Hermione was bright enough to figure out that it was Malfoy he'd be working with.
Hermione moved to get up. "I best be getting back home. I'm sure you want to start working, though it is 2 A.M. I know you better than to think you'll be going to bed when you have a fresh case to work on." Hermione shook her head in amusement.
Harry merely grinned. "Of course, you're more than welcome to stay in the guest room for the night. I have it on good authority that you could eat off of the floor. Not that you'd want to."
Hermione laughed, tiredly. "I'm going home, Harry. Ron and I will be over soon to celebrate the clean place. And make it dirty for you again."
Harry gasped. "You wouldn't dare…"
Hermione patted his arm, finally standing. "Good night, Harry." She pecked his cheek and quickly left via floo.
After a quick mental debate, Harry decided that he did want to get started on the Malfoy family tree. He made his way into his newly organized office, where they had moved his briefcase containing what little Malfoy family information Malfoy could find. Malfoy really didn't have much, just a copy of his own birth certificate and Lucius Malfoy's birth certificate. Harry knew that Malfoy was only trying to help, but looking up birth certificates of living people was as easy as breathing to Harry now. He had his connections.
Harry stood up and made a quick detour to his kitchen. He was going to need some coffee.
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A/N: And there you go. :) More Draco/Harry interaction in the next chapter, I promise.
Have a wonderful week!
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