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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Author’s Note: A bundle of thanks to Cris for looking this chapter over for me and to all who reviewed the latest chapter.

Chapter 7 A Toast to Beautifying Potions

Harry groaned at the long list of items he’d been sent to fetch for Ginny. A few Quidditch tools, a book she’d wanted to read, all of which were fine, but then there were also a slew of beauty products she’d asked him to retrieve from Madam Primpernelle’s. Not only would he prefer not to wander around Diagon Alley with the frilly bags he imagined accompanied the items sold there, but there were hardly any details on the list she’d left him. He worried about picking the wrong potions and facing her wrath when he returned home.

After procrastinating as long as he could, Harry slipped covertly into the glaring fuchsia building at the end of the street. The interior was overly feminine to an obnoxious degree, decked out in pink frills and sparkling surfaces making Harry want to squint as if faced with a too bright sun. He looked like an ink stain with his dark hair and dark robes surrounded by so much girly cheerfulness. Madam Primpernelle herself was as exuberant as he expected, her face made up like a very glamorous prostitute in garish blues and reds with her hair teased into a large brittle updo so that it wouldn’t block out a single inch of her Pepto Bismol colored robes.

“Doesn’t she look like she’s ready to attend a drag queen’s wedding?” a familiar voice drawled behind him as Madam Primpernelle bustled around the aisles grabbing up colorful bottles and placing them in a basket for Harry.

Only barely did Harry hold back a snort at Malfoy’s joke, even as his cheeks flamed at being caught in this place by him of all people. “I was thinking clown school formal, but I think yours might be just as accurate.”

Draco laughed, a low, enchanting sound that might have been seductive if Harry had thought on it too long. He was too distracted by the realization that he’d never heard a genuine laugh from the Slytherin Prince before this moment. “No, I definitely think yours is spot on, Potter. Good call.”

And a compliment, unforced, from the blond’s lips? This was obviously a day of firsts. Then he remembered all over again where he was, what he was doing and whom he was talking to. “So…what brings you to this…interesting establishment?”

A slow smirk formed on Draco’s lips and Harry felt slightly more comfortable at the sight. This expression was a familiar one - one that didn’t give him the strange nervous flutter that he’d been experiencing recently in Malfoy’s company. “I was stalking you, of course.”

Nope. There is was again. “You were?” Harry asked, blinking back surprise that faded quickly at Malfoy’s snarky laugh.

“No, of course not. I have better things to do than chase after a bloke who got me drunk and didn’t take advantage of me,” he quipped, humor and bitterness laced together in his voice.

“Right.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what to say on that particular matter. He had a notion to come clean about the whole thing, but then Malfoy would know he was the target of a Ministry investigation and even though Harry no longer worked for the department, he still felt an obligation not to interfere. “Sorry for leaving like that, but you were out cold and I got rather bored,” he lied instead.

His breath caught in his throat as a flush stole over Malfoy’s cheeks. “Honestly, I should probably apologize,” he said, as Harry noticed with a grin that an apology was implied but not actually given. “I really didn’t think I’d had that much to drink. I’m not sure yet whether or not I’m lucky that you were a perfect gentleman.”

Harry turned away as he fidgeted under the scrutiny of Malfoy’s heated gaze. What was wrong with him? He was a trained Auror for fuck’s sake…former Auror at least. He could withstand interrogation under Veritaserum without squirming as much as he was doing just now. “Well, we Gryffindors are like that,” he muttered at last, turning to meet Draco’s mercurial gaze, sparkling with a hidden mirth.

“I see,” he said, stepping closer. “I do believe you owe me another date though, since I slept through the first one.”

Harry swallowed thickly but held his ground. “I don’t think taking me home for a shag could exactly be construed as a date, Malfoy,” Harry pointed out.

Malfoy shrugged in that elegant way he had of doing. “I suppose it depends on your definition of date. I consider a date to be time spent together, your heart rate spiking, and leaves you swooning on the doorstep. I think a brilliant shag would do the trick perfectly.”

Harry licked his lips, feeling his own heart race at Draco’s words. “Really? Because I consider it a way to get to know someone better, share secrets and memories and…leaves you swooning on the doorstep,” he finished with a cheeky grin.

“All of those things could still be accomplished in bed,” Draco pointed out.

“Perhaps,” Harry replied noncommittally as he failingly attempted to appear both suave and aloof, to what purpose he had no idea.

Draco leaned ever closer, pressing Harry back to the glass cabinet behind him. Green eyes fluttered closed against the intense look on Malfoy’s face and Harry wet his lips, bracing for the kiss he expected the blond to plant on his mouth at such close proximity, but instead the weight was lifted from his chest as Malfoy pulled back. “This,” he chimed, looking thoroughly amused, “was what I came in for,” he said, tipping a spherical bottle onto his thumb before dabbing a clear liquid beneath his ear. “This cologne is unrivaled.”

Harry caught himself before he pressed forward to catch the scent, but Draco closed the distance, cocking his head to the side and exposing a long line of porcelain skin that practically beckoned to be licked. He murmured something unintelligible about how nice the cologne smelled, and he was fairly certain he was losing his mind. He quietly reasoned that the cologne was probably some kind of aphrodisiac that Harry had no power to compete with.

“Have dinner with me Saturday,” Draco whispered against his ear, and Harry found himself without the will to refuse. He nodded, which seemed good enough for the blond, who fell back in the next moment. The movement allowed Harry to breath and his mind to spin in an epic ‘what the fuck’ kind of fashion. “Excellent. I’ll pick you up at your place at eight.”

What was he doing? Harry wasn’t on this case anymore. He wasn’t even anAuror any longer. What the hell made him agree to a real date with the prince of all prats? But before he could retract his agreement, Madam Primpernelle came swishing back with Harry’s list checked off and a hefty bill in hand. Hastily he paid for the items, worrying his lip when he saw the interested expression on Malfoy’s face. He was no doubt wondering what Harry needed with ‘Ginger Brilliance Tonic’, ‘Fairly Fair Skin Serum’ and ‘Bust Bazoom Cream’ among other things that were decidedly more destructive to his image.

“I’m sure Ginny will love the new hand cream we got in this week, so I threw in a sample for her,” Madam Primpernelle chimed as she handed everything over to Harry.

“Um, yeah. I’m sure she will,” Harry spluttered, unable to meet Malfoy’s perplexed gaze. Why did he feel as though he were doing something wrong by Draco? Because he was an arse, that’s why. He was obviously still so hung up on the case that he felt the need to finish it even though he wasn’t contractually responsible to.

Deep down he knew he should have turned around, explained the whole mess to Draco, and run out the door, but instead he only did the latter. With a tight, blushing smile aimed at Malfoy and a harried goodbye to Madam Primpernelle, Harry rushed out of the shop as if someone had set his trousers on fire.

+

The remainder of Harry’s day had been surprisingly quiet after he dropped Ginny’s things at the house and found it blessedly empty. Trouble was, it wastoo quiet. Of all the days he absolutely didn’t want a moment alone to think, cruel fate had to go and give him just that. It was several hours when Ginny got home with an armful of groceries and another box from her mum’s levitating behind her, but by then Harry had already taken out the rubbish, done all the dishes and the laundry, tidied his study and dusted everything, which in Grimmauld Place was saying quite a bit.

“Wow,” Ginny beamed upon seeing the table set with their nicest china and the house virtually spotless. Even the frame around Walburga Black’s portrait had been given a good polish. “Someone’s been quite busy. Well done, Harry. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen this place looking so lovely.”

“Yes, well, I was a tad bored,” Harry admitted, saying nothing of the need to distract himself after his surprise run-in with Malfoy earlier that day. “Besides, Mi and Ron are coming over for dinner. Thought the place should look presentable.”

“Brilliant,” Ginny replied enthusiastically as Harry helped her with the groceries, levitating them into their proper places in the cupboards. “We’ll need to make another setting though,” she piped in while arranging the perishables in the fridge. “Mum’s coming too.”

Harry blinked. “Molly’s coming here? Tonight? For dinner?”

Never once in all his years here at Grimmauld Place had Harry ever cooked for Molly. He had to admit he was quite terrified of the prospect. Harry wasn’t a bad cook, but Molly prepared delicious and elaborate feasts for the smallest of occasions and all he’d prepared was a roast chicken and some veggies that didn’t feel nearly fancy enough for Molly Weasley.

“Yeah.” Ginny turned, catching the distress in Harry’s voice. “Dad’s working late, and I didn’t want her eating alone. I figured it was alright to invite my own mum to my own house,” she pointed out unnecessarily.

“Yes, no, I mean, of course it is. It’s just…I hadn’t planned on making a big thing of tonight, and now there’s all this pressure to cook something fantastic…and the chicken won’t feed much more than us….” His voice trailed off as Ginny sighed in exasperation.

“Harry, I just went to the market. We have plenty of food here, and mum will be happy with whatever you fix,” she said, handing him a whisk and grinning. “It’s cute that you’re worried about it though,” she chimed, standing on tip-toes to kiss him on the nose and paused for a moment. “Don’t you smell nice? New cologne?”

Bristling slightly, Harry shook his head. “Er…not exactly. I was accosted at Primpernelle’s,” he replied honestly. Mostly.

Ginny cringed and looked sympathetic. “Sorry. I probably should have warned you that she can be a tad overbearing with the sampling. I hope she wasn’t too much of a bother,” she offered with a small grin. Harry shook his head and her smile widened as she moved out of his way. “I suppose I’ll put out the other setting and leave you to it.”

Harry tried to feel disgruntled about Ginny leaving him alone to do all the cooking, but if there was one thing he learned early on in his courtship of the redhead, it was that Ginny Weasley had not inherited the smallest iota of her mother’s talent in the kitchen. She was a terror to food, managing to burn things that Harry didn’t think could be burned, to speak nothing of her tendency to over-salt everything to the point of needing several glasses of water per bite to wash it down.

He tried teaching her, but she would get so frustrated that it was just easier to do it himself. The only thing she could manage was eggs and toast, which is what he assumed she lived off of when he wasn’t around.

In the end, he was mostly thankful for the task, because it kept his mind off of sparkling grey eyes and haunting cologne that still seemed to cling to his shirt.

+

“Harry!” cooed Molly the moment she walked in the door, enfolding him in a smothering hug. “Don’t you look as handsome as ever! And Ginny! You two make the loveliest couple! You’re going to have the most beautiful children!”

Trying desperately not to squirm in place, Harry offered Molly a tight, shy smile. He should be used to this by now. It was practically the same speech over and over whenever he saw her. Normally it didn’t get to him, but since Ginny had moved in, the threat of marriage and children seemed to loom over him like a dull guillotine blade, meant to strike several times before it finally put him out of his misery.

It was peculiar, because he couldn’t remember ever feeling so full of dread at the thought of starting a family, quite the contrary. Before the war, it was that thought that spurred him on; the idea that one day he would have a normal life, but he was swiftly beginning to question his definition of normal.

“Of course we will,” Ginny answered easily, as she always did, and escorted her mother into the dining room where Ron and Hermione were already sitting. Ron stood, still chewing a bite of roll when his mother came in and he pulled out a chair for her.

Harry cursed himself for not thinking of that, but he was still lingering back, afraid to do something wrong. This was the first time he’d seen Molly since he’d asked Ginny to move in. Part of him wanted to make sure Molly didn’t retract her blessing of their relationship, even though he knew deep down that such a thing was likely impossible. However, that part warred with another side of him that just wanted to make sure she didn’t put any more ideas in Ginny’s head. He’d almost expected her to add ‘engagement ring’ to the list of things he was meant to pick up in Diagon Alley that morning, what with the way she’d been dropping not-so-subtle hints lately.

He finally allowed himself to relax when the conversation turned from nuptials and children to the food and then to work. Work was a safe topic. Or so he thought.

Through a mouthful of green beans, Ron began regaling the tale of their meeting with Kingsley. As Harry had suggested, the two tried to get back into the department without him, and had succeeded. Mostly. “There was only one condition,” Ron informed him, scooping up another bite of potatoes.

Hermione glared at him with poorly veiled exasperation and set her own fork aside, leveling her gaze on Harry. “The condition was that you come back as well.”

“But I don’t want to come back,” Harry stated, as if perhaps they’d forgotten and would move on now that he’d reminded them.

Hermione only rolled her eyes. “Of course you do, Harry. Look at this place.” She gestured to the spic-n-span surfaces all over the room. “You’re obviously bored out of your skull.”

“Even if that’s true,” Harry argued lightly, refusing to admit the real reason why he’d had such a cleaning streak today, “that doesn’t mean I want to go to work for that prick again.”

“Harry!” chastised Molly, and Harry flushed, ducking his head.

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley,” he muttered like a scolded child before glaring at Hermione as if it were her fault he was using inappropriate language at the dinner table. “But the point still stands. I won’t go back to work for that man.”

“Not even if Kingsley allows you to head the investigation from this point forward?” Hermione asked, her lip quirking into a knowing smile.

“Fledgecraft’s been booted off the case,” Ron piped in, ruining the subtle tension Hermione had been building. “You should have seen his face when Kingsley told him. It was priceless.”

“He’s seriously been taken off the Malfoy case?” Harry asked, suddenly more intrigued than he had any right to be.

Hermione nodded, her grin growing broader.

“Fine,” Harry sighed in defeat. That was honestly the only thing standing between him and the job he loved. Plus this way he would have the leniency to prove a case for or against Malfoy on his own terms. As much as he hated the teenage Malfoy, he was beginning to realize that everyone changed as they got older and the sins of the past couldn’t be held against the man Malfoy was now. If he was innocent, Harry would see to it that no one bothered Malfoy again. If he was guilty, well, Harry would have to treat him the same as any other criminal, and he tried to ignore the sick twist that idea did to his gut. “I’ll set up a meeting with Kingsley tomorrow.”

“Now that that’s all settled,” Ginny huffed, moving to stand. “Harry and I have an announcement.”

“We do?” Harry asked, looking up with a confused frown.

“We’re moving in together,” she added in the next beat, as if Harry hadn’t said a thing.

“Um…we know,” Ron said, rolling his eyes at his little sister. “Harry told us a few days ago.”

That earned Harry a bitter glare, but eventually Ginny sagged into her seat and muttered something into her glass before raising it up. “A toast,” she said, clinking the edge of her glass with her fork. “To the future and all the glorious things it will bring!”

“To the future,” the lot of them chimed in unison, some more enthusiastic than others.

+++

Author’s Note: A toast to hot Drarry action in the near future *clink*
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Secrets & Lies