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Knowing the Price and the Value	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7790 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Knowing the Price and the Value
- 1
Title: Knowing
the Price and the Value

Disclaimer: J. K.
Rowling and associates own the characters appearing in this fic. I am writing
this story for fun and not profit.

Pairing: Harry/Draco.

Rating: R/M.

Warnings: Follows the
last chapter of Deathly Hallows, therefore SPOILERS, but disregards the
epilogue. Language, sex, and some violence.

Summary: Draco
knew Potter had changed, but never how much, until he was approached by
Potter�s friends in a desperate attempt to get him back to normal.

Notes: Written
for <lj user="irrevokable">�s one-shot request; both of them Aurors, Draco wearing glasses,
Draco getting jealous and then getting mad about getting jealous, Harry doing something that completely
threatens Draco's image of Harry (it can be anything from a small gesture to
saving his life or something), them
having sex in a place that isn't a couch, bed, or shower (sort of, anyway), aaand at least one
brilliant and massive fight (involving magic (wandless is even better!) and
overturned furniture -- you know, the works) between the two of them that turns
into one of them being thrown against a wall and they proceed to snog the life
out of each other.

The title is adapted from the Oscar Wilde quote: �A cynic is
a man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.�

Knowing the Price and
the Value

�� Draco
waited until he knew Granger was on the verge of squirming�biting her lip,
casting him vexed glances and in the next moment trying to make it seem as if
she�d never looked at him�before he smiled slowly at her. Granger relaxed, but
she really shouldn�t have.

�� You�ll do
it, then?� she asked, sitting up on the seat and smiling at him in return.

�� We haven�t
discussed price yet,� Draco murmured. �What do I get for, in your words, making Potter act more like himself
again?�

�� Granger
clenched her hands in front of her. �I�d think it would be self-preservation,
too!� she exclaimed. �After all, do you like
walking into a Ministry with loose magic afloat around everyone�s heads?�

�� Draco gave
a shrug that he knew was small and graceful, because he�d worked hard to make
it so. �It�s not my preferred environment,� he said. �But I can live with it. I
would find it harder to associate with Potter for any length of time.�

�� Then you
won�t do it?� Granger looked near to spitting with frustration.

�� I didn�t
say that.� Draco cocked his head. �I just need you to make it worth my while,
that�s all.�

�� Granger
sighed. �I know that you still have enough Galleons of your own that any offer
of money is useless. What do you want,
exactly?�

�� She had
yielded with less fight than Draco would have expected. So the Mudblood can learn a new trick. But Draco kept that
insulting word behind his lips, because, in the new Ministry under Shacklebolt,
Granger wasn�t the only one who would leap down his throat for using it.

�� Pure-bloods can learn new tricks too, of
course.

�� Your voice
in the right ears,� he said. �I know that you have some untoward influence with
Shacklebolt��

�� I�m a
brilliant researcher,� Granger said, sitting upright and shooting him a deadly
look. �And he acknowledges that. That�s
all.�

�� Draco
laughed openly. �I didn�t mean it in that
way, Granger,� he said. �Just that you knew him during the war.� He waited for
a moment, enjoying her embarrassed flush, then continued, �I know that you can
talk to him about getting me transferred from the desk to field work more
often.�

�� Why do you
want to be out in the field, Malfoy?� Granger squinted at him. �I thought that
you preferred to keep your pasty white arse out of danger.�

�� Draco said
nothing. He had had five years to improve upon and train his self-control. He
no longer thought his comebacks were as witty as he had in school, but he had
learned the value of silence. He just looked at her now until she remembered
that she had asked him to do her a favor, and then shrugged and leaned back in
his chair. It was comfortable, he had to admit that. But still, Aurors who sat
at desks and shoved parchment around didn�t get promoted, though people like
that were the Heads of other Departments. Minister Shacklebolt valued Aurors
who risked their lives. To have more than just a comfortable office and a
mentally slow �partner� who put in an appearance at that office every few
weeks, Draco would have to go into danger. �That�s my price,� he said. �Accept
it, or find someone else to coax your little strayed sheep back into the fold.�

�� Granger
swore under her breath. Draco wondered idly if her husband had taught her those
words, or Potter.

�� All
right,� she said finally. �But only because I�m at my wits� end and I think
you�re the only one he might respond to like a rational human being.�

�� Draco
grinned. �Why, Granger, I�m touched.� He put a hand over his heart, and watched
her fume some more, which was nearly as much fun as having her blessing to
taunt Potter. �Go on, then,� he added. �Talk with Shacklebolt at your leisure.
I�ll visit Potter this morning.� He turned back to his paperwork. As long as he
was still here, he would show willing; he was determined never to fail at any
task he accepted ever again.

�� Granger
glared at his back for a while longer, but eventually went. Draco finished
signing off on the report in front of him, which calculated the number of Auror
trainees currently ready to become full-fledged Aurors�exciting stuff, that�and
then stood and strode out of his office. He usually stretched his legs around
eleven or so. No one would think it odd to see him meander down the corridors
in the direction of Potter�s office. It wasn�t as though he had any more pressing
business right now.

�� Besides, he
could use the walk to remember what he knew of the case that had �dramatically
changed� Potter, enough so that his friends were worried about him and his
superiors were keeping a suspicious eye out.

*

�� Draco had
been there, the morning that Harry Potter returned to the Ministry. He had
dropped the cup of tea, made and enchanted to resist spillage by Malfoy
house-elves, which he usually carried from the Manor to work each morning.

�� At that
point, most of them had given up Potter for dead. He�d been sent towards a
�rogue werewolf� who turned out to be a whole pack, after all, and one of the
five Aurors who�d been sent with him had returned wounded and infected,
babbling that he�d seen the rest of them pulled down. No one had seen any
reason to doubt that testimony.

�� But there
was Potter standing in the middle of the Auror section of the Department of
Magical Law Enforcement, alive and quite obviously angry. He glared at everyone
in front of him indiscriminately. Draco had the odd experience of feeling those
green eyes pass over him and not
scorch him. He was beneath notice, part of the general scum of people that
Harry Potter was enraged at.

�� He wasn�t
sure that he liked the feeling. On the other hand, he had survived Voldemort as
a houseguest. He was no longer stupid enough to open his mouth and let his
thoughts tumble out through it without thinking
first.

�� Potter had
given his head a little impatient toss that was to become familiar in the next
few months and stalked into the Head�s office. Draco busied himself with
penning an owl to his mother so that she could send another house-elf with more
tea, while at the same time trying to hear exactly what was going on behind a
particular tightly-shut door.

�� He didn�t
have to listen that hard, as it turned out.

�� Fuck you!� Potter�s voice spat. �We were betrayed, and you knew there was a
possibility of that with the inappropriate measures you�ve taken towards the
werewolves, and yet you did nothing!�

�� He flung
open the door and stalked out again. This time, he didn�t bother to glance
around. His eyes were fixed ahead of him, and Draco had never seen such rage.
It was dangerous, free-floating, without a target. He hadn�t bothered sending
an owl after all, but had discreetly taken to his office and stayed there for
the remainder of the morning. Since his partner, Horwich, hadn�t come in that
day, as usual, there was no chance that someone would open the door and expose
him to Potter�s wrath.

�� And since
then�

�� Well,
Granger was right about one thing, at least. Potter hadn�t acted like his
normal self.

�� He spent
most of his time in a bad mood, or at least a mood with a sarcastic curl to the
left side of his mouth and a casual insult for anyone who even suggested that
he might have exaggerated his claim of the Ministry betraying him. He did his
casework well and efficiently, but he refused all the partners that were
offered him. Office rumors, of course, said that it had been his partner who
betrayed Potter, either by running away when the werewolves attacked or
actually leading him into a trap.

�� And that
partner, Ideala Grand, hadn�t come back alive from the journey, either.

�� Potter
spent his free time digging through the Ministry, apparently intent on rooting
out any and all people who had given up hope on the expedition and decided not
to send any help. He had already effectively destroyed the careers of three of
the suspects. One had been rather suddenly outed to the Daily Prophet, and thus most of the British wizarding world, as an
abuser of Muggle children. The second, a pure-blood witch of the kind Narcissa
might have picked for Draco to marry before he sat down and told her certain
truths of the world, didn�t come in to work one day, and the next day sent her
resignation. And the third tried to hex Potter in the back as he walked past,
and spent the next seven weeks in St. Mungo�s from the spell that Potter cast
in response.

�� It was no
wonder his friends were worried. Draco was only surprised, now that he thought
about it, that it had taken them so long to come to him.

�� After all,
he had always been able to get a rise out of Potter when no one else could.

*

�� A good
hunter always observed his prey. Draco did that by taking up a post just
outside Potter�s office. There were wards swarming across the door, of course,
but Draco had made a study of wards as part of his process of qualifying for
Auror training, and picked up other certain, esoteric knowledge from books in
Malfoy Manor. The Pigeon Pryer, a spell originally meant for plucking the eggs
right from under sitting birds, worked, with a slight modification, to slide
through those wards and give Draco a free observation point past them.

�� He supposed
that he would look rather silly bent over and peering through the peephole to
anyone who came down the corridor, but a simple Repelling Charm took care of
that. Then he bent and looked. His glasses�which he had worn almost constantly
since the war, due to the way the Fiendfyre in the Room of Hidden Things had
irritated his eyes�teetered and threatened to slide down. Draco caught and held
them in place.

�� Potter was
reading a card of some sort. It was made of blue paper, Draco thought, and had
a moving Quidditch game on the front. The team, of course, was clad in the
Gryffindor colors of red and gold. Draco didn�t think such cards were usually
sold in shops; ones that had the colors of various teams in the league were far
more popular. Someone had probably spent time hand-making this card.

�� Potter just
stared at it. Draco wondered idly if his experience with the werewolves had
damaged his intellect, and he needed time to figure out what it was.
Regardless, he would probably smile in a moment and set it on his desk, where
it would have a place of honor�

�� Potter
curled his lip, snorted, and ripped the card very deliberately down the middle.
Then he ripped the halves into quarters, and the quarters into smaller pieces
still, and cast them into the air. A flick of his wand lit them on fire, a
quick-burning spell that Draco hadn�t seen before, and which reduced them to
ash long before they fluttered down.

�� Draco felt
a lurch in his belly. If was one of Potter�s little friends, it might have been
sickness. Because he was himself, it was something more like wonder.

�� And then
Potter faced his office door and said, �You might as well come in, Malfoy.�

�� Draco
blinked once, but he had learned that one couldn�t hesitate in the Ministry if
one wanted to take advantage of an opportunity. He withdrew the Pigeon Pryer,
ended his Repelling Charm with a wave of his wand, and then looked at Potter�s
door. The wards were withdrawn, as he had expected. Still, it was always best
to make sure.

�� He had not
expected�

�� Well, he
had expected many things of Potter, but not that.

�� Draco
couldn�t even say why the simple gesture, of Potter discarding a gift that one
of his admirers or friends had created for him, hit him so hard. After all, a
man might tear up a card in any one of many fits of fury or disgust. It didn�t
have to say anything deep about Potter�s personality, especially since he might
have torn up the card for Draco�s benefit, once he sensed him watching.

�� But
sometimes the simplest gestures told the most about a person. Draco had learned
that after watching the casual way that the Dark Lord commanded his snake to
devour prisoners. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

�� He shut the
door of Potter�s office behind him and gave a little nod. Potter stared back at
him with devouring eyes that had gone the color of an undersea forest. Draco
cocked his head and waited. Even though he had been the one caught spying, he
saw no need to be the one to begin the conversation.

�� Potter
could ask him the obvious question or not, as he pleased.

�� The other
man sighed at last, and turned his chair more fully around from the desk. Draco
preferred an ornate seat not much different from the ones in his bedroom at the
Manor; they were most comfortable. Potter, it seemed, had had his fitted with a
Muggle contraption that allowed it to swivel. His desk, Draco couldn�t help
noticing, was completely free of paperwork, with several burn marks on it, and
there was still a faint smell of smoke lingering in the air, more than could
possibly have come from the relatively simple burning spell he�d cast on the card.

�� When did
you start wearing glasses, Malfoy?� Potter asked.

�� Draco
blinked, and then lifted his finger to push the glasses away from the bridge of
his nose. �You get caught in Fiendfyre,� he said shortly, �find out that you�re
allergic to it, and then tell me that you
won�t need glasses. Of course,� he couldn�t stop himself from adding, �as
freakish as you are, I�m surprised it
didn�t cure your eyesight.�

�� Then he
wondered what he was doing. He never snapped like that at anyone anymore; he
put up a cool wall of silence and watched them exhaust themselves snarling
against it.

�� But, well,
Granger had hired him to insult Potter and put a dent in his surly mood. This
would do it as well as anything could.

�� Potter
laughed.

�� Draco tried
not to stare. Potter had cast his head back in absolute carefree abandon as he
laughed, and the sound was dark, and resonant, and seemed to flow straight up
his throat from his belly. It was a chuckle that Draco would have suspected
could come from an acquaintance of his, but never someone so wholesome as
Potter.

�� He was
beginning to see why his friends were worried that Potter was acting a bit
strange.

�� Really,�
Potter said, wiping at his cheeks as if to get rid of tears of mirth, �whatever
Hermione�s paying you, it�s not enough.�

�� Draco was
determined not to jump. He simply raised his eyebrows and said, �And what would
I want with money from Granger�s vault?�

�� Oh, well,
I used the word pay loosely.� Potter
shrugged and stood, bringing his face closer to Draco�s than Draco felt
comfortable with. He stood still, of course, and Potter grinned and turned away
after a moment to pick up his wand, which still lay on the chair. �Strange,� he
continued in a light voice, facing away, �that you aren�t denying you�re in
Hermione�s employ.�

��

�You seem to know everything
already.� Draco shrugged. �What would be the point of denying it?�

�It wasn�t really hard, you know.�
Potter turned to face him, spinning the wand meditatively between his fingers.
�Ron and Hermione have been talking about trying to do something to get me back
to �normal� for weeks, and they�ve tried everything from making me visit with
Ron�s brothers to locking me in a room with his sister.� He grimaced a little.
�Ginny understood, oddly enough, which wasn�t what they wanted. I thought they
would have to turn to you sooner or later.�

�Really, Potter,� Draco said,
tapping his finger against his chin, �this is problematic. How am I supposed to
keep my bargain with Granger if you know everything already? I don�t think
you�d play along and pretend to be insulted so that she would still put a word
in for me with the people who need to hear it. You don�t strike me as that kind
of bloke.�

He felt so odd, he realized, as he waited for Potter to speak. He seemed to be
taking deeper breaths, and pulling in more air each time, than he had since
he�d become an Auror. Being in the same room with Potter didn�t relax him�he
would have been mad to think it could�but it energized him and made him feel as
if he were flying. That was worth something.

How much, he didn�t know yet.

�� I might be
willing to play along with you, at that,� said Potter, and his voice had
descended a few notches.

�� Draco met
his gaze, and smiled slightly. �What do you want, then?�

�� Not here,�
Potter said, and waved his wand in a complex pattern. Several motes of light
appeared in the middle of the office, coalesced, and formed an image of him.
The secondary Potter sank into the chair and picked up a piece of parchment
that had whirled out of nothingness next to him. Then he picked up a gleaming
quill and began to write on the parchment.

�� I see,�
Draco murmured. �So the reports of you being industrious in the office aren�t
true after all.�

�� It all
depends on which version of me you
think is here.� Potter held open the office door and gave him a smile with
teeth. �I�ll show you the spell, so that you can convince whoever looks in on
you that you�re still hard at work, too. Now, come on. There�s a pub a few
streets away from here where people have learned not to be curious about me.�

�� I hardly
think��

�� You�re not
the only one with Galleons, Malfoy.� Potter sauntered a few steps down the
corridor and then put his head back around the edge of the door. �Coming?�

*

�� You need��
Draco shook his head. And to think I
thought Granger�s request odd. �You need me to tell you how to find out
information on your enemies, when you�ve already done such a good job of it so
far?�

�� That�s the
problem.� Potter sat back and stared at the bottle of butterbeer he�d ordered
and which sat on the table in front of him, untouched except for three sips.
�I�ve gone as far as I can. I�ve discovered the most obvious people who were
party to my betrayal. But the people who were protecting them are hiding behind
layers of paperwork and favors. I need you to show me how to crack that layer,
get beyond it and bring down enemies who are too hard for me to reach right
now.�

�� Draco shot
one more look around the pub. Incredible as it seemed, the people in it
actually fit Potter�s description and studiously kept from looking towards him,
though Draco could sense the curiosity crimping the edges of their faces. Of
course, the dim lighting and the generally dingy atmosphere of the place
probably helped.

�� I might
still have a few contacts that I could use,� he said. �But it�s dangerous,
Potter. You ought to know that. Your fame might have protected you so far, but
it won�t if they think that you�ll seriously challenge the structure of the
Ministry, not just threaten a few disposable people. Why don�t you tell me
exactly why you want to do this?�

�� He expected
Potter to snap back and bluster his way out of the situation, but instead
Potter gave him a single intense glare from under his fringe, and then nodded,
once. �I suppose that I can�t blame you for wanting to know,� he murmured. �All
right, Malfoy, this is what happened.�

�� But even
though he had said he would start the story, still he hesitated, his fingers
resting against and tapping on the cool glass of his drink, until Draco gave an
impatient little cough. Then Potter began in such a low voice that Draco had to
lean forwards to hear it, which put him uncomfortably into Potter�s space.

�� They told
us that there was a werewolf who had started attacking Muggles whenever he was
transformed in Scotland.� Potter�s hands tightened on the bottle of butterbeer.
�It was personal for Ideala, because she had known the werewolf before he was
infected. Or, at least, that was what she told me.

�� Just
before we were due to go, we received word that the werewolf had managed to
transform without the aid of the full
moon. If that was true�� Potter gave a small shrug.

�� Draco
shivered. The fear that werewolves might someday discover a way to do exactly
that had been a prevalent one in the wizarding community for generations, even
though his mother had assured him from the time he was five that it could never
happen. It was only the involuntary nature of the transformation and the fact
that it happened once a month which enabled wizards to confine werewolves at
all.

�� They sent
us four other people.� Potter snarled under his breath, his gaze becoming
distant. �We were told that they had expertise in hunting not only lycanthropes
but criminals of all kinds.

�� They
didn�t.�

�� Draco
frowned. �But why did they want to send them along?�

�� Because,�
said Potter, staring at Draco, �this particular pack was under Ministry
protection. They were using them as threats against anyone they didn�t like,
and collecting their saliva so that they could infect especially troublesome
people later.�

�� Draco
blinked in startlement. Again, it was something that had been hinted at as a
threat in the past, but his parents had told him that it never actually
happened.

�� Come on, Potter.�

�� Potter
pulled his lips back from his teeth, as though he were a werewolf himself.
�After what I saw in those caves, Malfoy�call me many things, but never a liar.
The pack was never meant to attract attention. When it did, though, the
Ministry had to pretend to take the threat seriously, and send enough people
along on the mission that the public wouldn�t clamor they should do more. They
never intended, of course, that anyone who could cause trouble would come back
from the mission alive.

�� Ideala
betrayed us almost as soon as we arrived. The werewolves took me and three of
the others captive. The one who could be intimidated, the weakest of the other
teams they�d sent along, was convinced to wait until after the full moon, then
return to the Ministry claiming that he was infected and that he�d seen the
rest of us die.�

�� He wasn�t
infected?�

�� Potter
shook his head. �If Ideala had let the pack bite him, he wouldn�t really have
any reason to cooperate. Instead, she made sure he was safe when the full moon
came.� Potter�s gaze grew darker. �She let the werewolves tear the other three
captives�besides me�apart. She wanted to keep me alive and infect me, so that I
could continue to be �useful to the Ministry,� her words. At that time, the
pack had no Wolfsbane, and so she couldn�t be sure that they would only bite me
and not kill me when they transformed. She hid me when the moon came rising,
and left the others to be torn apart and appease the savagery of the animals.
She was already planning to procure some Wolfsbane for the next full moon. She would
have worked with the pack leader then to make me into one of them.�

�� They
didn�t succeed,� Draco said quietly, drawn into the story despite himself.

�� Potter
shook his head again, eyes so dark now that Draco shivered when they brushed
across his face. �No. I killed her a few nights later and escaped. But I had to
listen to the sounds of my comrades dying before I could reach them. And, of
course, with Ideala dead, there was no one I could force into corroborating the
story when I returned to the Ministry.�

�� The pack?�

�� Already
scattered when I next returned.� Potter stretched restlessly. �And the evidence
of Ministry involvement had gone with them, of course.�

�� What about
the wizard who pretended to escape?�

�� He�s gone,
Malfoy, or haven�t you noticed?� Potter�s lip curled slightly when he smiled.
�He vanished out of the country before I could reach him. And I haven�t yet
reached the people who protected him, either.� He leaned forwards intently.
�That�s where you come in. I want the people who tried to make me a werewolf,
who corrupted my partner, and who betrayed Woodborn, Carlson, and Jones to
their deaths. You�re the person who can give me entrance into that guarded
world.�

�� Draco
exhaled noisily. �I told you, Potter, not easily,� he said. �Besides, I want to
advance in that world. It sounds like you want to smash it. Our goals are
incompatible. What I would want from you��

�� I could
give you several things,� Potter said instantly, �not just one.�

�� This
should be good,� said Draco, and folded his arms.

�� First,�
said Potter, �I can get you field work as an Auror for the time being, while I
work on doing more.�

�� Draco
blinked at him. �How?�

�� I�m one of
the most successful field Aurors, Malfoy.� Potter cocked his head slightly.
�And you might have noticed that I�m minus a partner.�

�� Draco
smiled in spite of himself. �Very well. What else can you give me?�

�� When I do
create holes in the old Ministry,� said Potter, finishing his butterbeer and
tossing the glass bottle casually from one hand to the other, �I don�t plan to
just leave it a power vacuum that will collapse in on itself. Someone needs to
fill those holes. You could be one of those people.

�� Third, I
know that you didn�t come out of the war as well-off as everyone thinks you
are. I can give you some money. We�ll negotiate for as much as we both think is
fair.

�� And
fourth,� Potter said, leaning across the table and lowering his voice, �I have
it on good authority that I give magnificent
head.�

�� Draco
caught his breath. �You�re gay?�

�� Bisexual.�
Potter flicked his fingers, his gaze never wavering from Draco�s face. �And as
long as you aren�t going to say that bisexuality doesn�t exist, your opinion of
my orientation doesn�t really matter to me.�

�� Draco
nodded slowly. He knew it was a much better bargain than anyone else in the
Ministry could offer him, and that alone ensured he would accept it. He did
feel the need to say something else first, though.

�� You
certainly have changed, Potter,� he murmured.

�� Potter
shrugged and snagged Draco�s own Firewhiskey to take a drink. �I don�t think I
have,� he said. �Before, I acted exactly the same way when someone threatened
me or my friends. I just didn�t acknowledge to myself what I was doing, and how
many moral compromises I was willing to make.� He caught and held Draco�s eye.
�Or maybe the change occurred during the war, when I found out that I am willing to use Unforgivables to make
things happen.�

�� Draco took
that as the warning it was meant for, and stretched his hand across the table.
�I think we might conclude a profitable bargain, then, Potter.�

�� I knew
you�d think the price was worth what you�re getting,� Potter said, and clasped
his wrist tightly, once.

�� Then he
bowed his head and let his tongue run over Draco�s knuckles. Draco caught his
breath and tried not to let his eyes cross with visions of where else he wanted
that tongue, and as soon as possible.

*

�� And you�re
sure about this, Harry?� Kingsley
Shacklebolt�s voice all but begged Potter to say this was a joke.

�� I trust
Malfoy in a way that I don�t trust other people.� Potter�s arms were folded,
but his face was blank with boredom and his voice was low and calm. Draco, who
knew exactly what had caused that, wondered for a moment if this was why
Potter�s friends had been desperate enough to approach him, because they had
heard him talk like that. �I know that he isn�t going to betray me unless a
better offer comes along, for example. And I�m fairly sure it won�t.�

�� The
Minister sighed and pressed a hand against his brow, as if he had his own curse
scar that ached there. Draco cocked his head to the side, interested to see if
he did, but his hand fell away from
the place, showing clear, unmarked dark skin.

�� If you
insist, Harry,� Shacklebolt said. �But you know there�s still no evidence that
Ideala was a traitor.�

�� Potter
merely smiled, the smile of someone who wasn�t interested in discussing the
matter any longer. Draco had seen that expression enough from his father to
know exactly what it meant.

�� Very
well,� said the Minister, and then signed the request form that Potter had
brought to him, which made Draco�s transfer of status official. �But you have
to know that many people in the Department will think badly of you for it.
There are other Aurors, even trainees, who need the experience more.� He gave
Draco a long stare. Draco, who had more practice now than he had ever wanted in
being gazed at with disrespect instead of envy, returned it with equanimity.

�� Yes, well,
I don�t trust them,� said Potter, and snatched the request form, and turned
away.

�� Draco made
sure to walk along at his side, because that was what a good partner would do.

�� Do you
want to keep your office, or should we have you move into mine?� Potter asked
when they were in the corridors and other people could hear. Draco saw more
than one head turn, more than one jaw fall open.

�� Draco knew
this was Potter�s way of letting others know that he and Draco shared more than
just friendship, but he was surprised that Potter was offering him the choice.
�You don�t care?� he asked.

�� Potter
shrugged and shook his head.

�� Well, all right, then. Time to test how
serious he is about this. �Move into mine,� Draco said. �It�s more
comfortable, and I�m not moving everything I want to keep with me into your cramped
little space if I don�t have to.�

�� Potter
laughed, that deep and resonant laugh that Draco had heard the day before
yesterday when he insulted him. That got even more stares. Draco raised his
eyebrows slightly and paced along at Potter�s side like someone, he thought,
walking beside a very expensive dog.

�� Everyone who might think his recent behavior
makes the Boy Who Lived less of a status symbol is deluded.

*

�� I don�t
understand, Malfoy.�

�� Draco
rolled his eyes and turned around. Trust Granger to catch him right in the
middle of studying Potter�s Muggle chair and collection of photographs and maps
and Orders of Merlin, trying to decide how they would all fit into his office.
Potter was still in his own room, Summoning some of his possessions off the
walls. �I�m getting close to him,� he said. �I thought that was what you
wanted. If I can insinuate myself into his life, then I can bring him back to
normal, yes?�

�� You were
supposed to insult him and bring him back to normal that way.� But Granger
looked uneasy, as if she suspected there was a joke here she didn�t understand,
and Draco reveled in it.

�� Right now,
he�s still too damaged,� Draco said. Yes,
let�s call it that, since it�s the only way she�ll be able to make sense of
matters. �He laughs at my insults. That�s not a normal reaction from Potter, in case you haven�t noticed. But at
least I can make him react, which is more than you succeeded in doing, from
what he tells me.� He had laughed himself sick this morning at Potter�s
rendition of the way Weasley and Granger questioned him, �subtly� trying to
find out what was �wrong� with him. �In time, I can work him back around to the
way he used to be. He�s like an oyster. I�m like a grain of sand. By being
constantly in his company, I�ll remind him of the much better and stronger
friendships he used to have with you lot. I�ll irritate him so much in the end
that he should come begging you to take him back.�

�� Granger
looked unconvinced. She pulled out her wand and tapped it against her lips. Draco
watched her warily. While she was a Mudblood, he had never denied her facility
with a curse or a hex.

�� I don�t
know,� she said. �Oysters make pearls out of grains of sand, too.�

�� Tell me,�
Draco said, permitting a bit of humor to creep into his voice, �what exactly do
you think the chances are of friendship happening between Potter and me? Let
alone becoming a pearl.�

�� Granger
smiled reluctantly. �All right,� she said. �But just don�t get too comfortable
in your new position, Malfoy. You aren�t here to be his friend, remember?�

�� I
remember,� Draco said softly as he watched her depart. Potter came around the
corner a moment later, his shrunken desk floating behind him. He tossed his
head in the direction of the Mudblood and raised his eyebrows.

�� What did
she want?�

�� Just to
remind me that we aren�t friends,� Draco said, and then waved his wand and
Vanished half the Orders of Merlin. Potter didn�t object. Considering that
those were awards given him by the Ministry, Draco thought he knew why.

�� Oh, well,
as if she knows what friendship is
these days,� Potter said, edging past Draco and then returning his desk slowly
to normal size, continually estimating the distance between Draco�s desk and
the walls with his eyes to see how big he should make it.

�� You think we�re friends?� Draco asked,
because that would be amusing.

�� Potter
glanced at him with that diamond-edged smile he never gave anyone else. �Of
course not, Malfoy. Just suggesting that she�s so determined to have me �back
to normal� that she never considered whether she�s acting like one.�

�� Draco
nodded in contentment and Vanished another Order of Merlin. Then he tried with
the photographs, but Potter noticed and gave him a glare. Draco waited a
moment�he rather enjoyed the look of anger and the color it turned Potter�s
eyes�but gave in and brought it back. As fun as petty amusement was, he stood
to get something worth much more out of this arrangement.

*

�� Right!�

�� Draco
plunged right.

�� Left!�

�� And then he
turned left, pivoting neatly as the hex sped past his leg.

�� His heart
pounded madly. Sweat pricked him under his arms and stood in the corners of his
eyes. He was panting so hard that he knew their enemies could hear him, but
then again, their enemies had been alerted already when Potter�s hex had
battered the door down. And now they were spread around the edges of the
central dining hall in the large, abandoned manor that seemed to be the natural
choice of headquarters for those groups trying to become the next Death Eaters,
wands in their hands.

�� That could
have been dangerous, but their curses were, for the most part, pitiful against
two trained Aurors.

�� Draco
caught a deep breath and plunged to the floor, rolling past someone who tried
to kick him in the ribs and someone else who tried to singe his hair with Incendio. He felt like laughing. This
was the first time he had realized how true the words of his instructors in
Auror training had been: that most adult wizards, despite a Hogwarts education,
really could not manage many of the complicated spells Draco and other Ministry
workers took for granted.

�� He
Body-Bound a witch who seemed to be trying to take down the wards so she could
Apparate, but then someone Petrified him. Draco screamed in his head as a
wizard in a white cloak bent over him, breathing hard himself but all smiles at
having stopped an Auror.

�� Reducto!� someone yelled just above him,
and the wizard in the white cloak went flying away. One moment Potter was
kneeling next to Draco, ending the Petrifying hex and helping him back to his
feet; the next moment he was charging towards the front of the hall, his wand
spinning circles that sent out rays of yellow light, which chained most of the
wizards who were still free.

�� Draco
caught his breath with an effort, and then followed Potter, cleaning up the
mess he�d left and taking wands from those enemies who still had them. Now and
then his gaze went to his partner, who was dueling with the recovered
white-cloaked wizard. Potter was dodging the curses with quick, neat expertise,
and though his face was flushed, he showed no other sign of strain. Draco knew
he would win easily.

�� He had
never realized Potter could be so handsome.

�� Draco
smiled a little. His first payment of Galleons from Potter had come through
this morning, and his first day on the job as a field wizard was everything he
had hoped it would be (save for his partner having to rescue him, perhaps).
Potter had even shown him the spell that made one�s glasses stay firmly on
one�s nose instead of flying away when one was wheeling through the midst of
battle.

�� Given how
Potter looked at this moment, another part of the promised payment would be no trouble at all.

*

�� And you
think that�s the place to start?� Potter�s eyes were intent as he rubbed the
parchment with the name Draco had given him between thumb and forefinger. �With
this Dyers?�

�� Draco
nodded. �It took me a long time to coax my mother into revealing he was one of
the people who accepted my father�s bribes; it was almost as though she thought
I was too young to know.� He actually
thought Narcissa had been as reluctant to give up the name as she was because
she didn�t want to see Draco treading down his father�s path and repeating
Lucius�s mistakes, but he wasn�t about to tell Potter that. �He�s still
susceptible, by all accounts.�

�� Potter�s
eyes darkened in that way they had. �Then my enemies might already have bribed
him into accepting their load of bollocks.�

�� Ah.� Draco
smiled and leaned back in his chair. They were in their office, with the door
heavily warded and the corridor outside covered with charms that were triggered
to ring or sing out if specific people came by. �There�s one fact about Dyers
that was never very relevant to my father, but probably is to your�enemies.
Dyers hates werewolves. One killed
his sister and infected his niece, and she committed suicide rather than live
with it. He would be more likely to betray anyone who tried to enlist him in
that plan you mentioned than go along with it, no matter how large the bribe
they offered. And he�ll help you�not out of the goodness of his heart, but more
willingly than he would have otherwise.�

�� Potter�s
face shone. Draco couldn�t lie to
himself; it was rather flattering to be the cause of a brightening like that,
no matter why.

�� You seem
to believe me when I tell you there�s a conspiracy to use werewolves like that
in the Ministry,� Potter murmured. His eyes grew darker again, but Draco didn�t
think it was with anger this time�not the way he was rising to his feet, not
with the look he was giving Draco. �Even Ron and Hermione didn�t. Why?�

�� Draco
shrugged. �I�m less surprised by any corruption in the Ministry, Potter. My
father helped cause a good part of it, after all.�

�� He wondered
a moment later if he had opened himself up to a taunt about his past�he and
Potter got around most of their potential arguments by simply not discussing
that�but Potter didn�t respond in words. He took a few steps nearer, crossing
most of the space left between their desks, and then sank to his knees. Draco
felt his breath speed up, and he parted his legs without really meaning to do
so.

�� This is
where the next payment comes in, I reckon?� He wished his voice wasn�t so
breathless. On the other hand, Potter had never been the most observant of
people.

�� It is,�
said Potter, and began to unbutton Draco�s robes.

�� By
coincidence�or maybe he really was more observant than Draco wanted to give him
credit for�Potter opened Draco�s robes and lowered his trousers and reached
into his pants at just the right speed. He wasn�t hurrying, furtive, afraid
he�d be caught. On the other hand, he wasn�t going slow and trying to act
seductive, which didn�t really fit the mood between them. He simply took his
time, as if this were normal in every way. Draco had no problem at all getting
hard.

�� Potter
smiled when he saw that, but the smile wasn�t mocking. He leaned down and slid
his lips gently around the head, then moved his tongue in a zigzag pattern that
Draco couldn�t remember feeling before. Or maybe no one else had ever done it
so brilliantly, he thought, his brain dissolving in haze as his head sagged
back against the chair.

�� Potter
never let a tooth through. He sucked at the perfect pace, too, thoughtfully
applying a bit of tongue there, turning his head so that he could suck from the
side there. Draco had never experienced anything like it. He wasn�t desperate
to come. Instead, the need and the pressure built up slowly, like some
accumulation of lava underground, and then the pleasure came soaring along and
took him by surprise.

�� Given that
he did everything else so perfectly, Potter�s precise swallowing shouldn�t have
taken him by surprise, but for some reason it did. Potter pulled back, did a
cleaning charm, fastened Draco up again, and stood with a nod.

�� I�m going
to talk to Dyers,� he said.

�� And then he
was gone, leaving Draco to stare after him in a mixture of confusion and
wonder.

*

�� I don�t
see you making much progress.�

�� Because
judging from the outside gives you such
an accurate picture, Granger.� Draco kept his back turned to the witch, arms
folded, his gaze on the far side of the corridor. He was standing outside
Minister Shacklebolt�s office, where Potter had been called for another of
those �conversations� that Draco knew essentially amounted to the Minister
asking Potter what the hell he thought he was doing. Draco had seen no reason
not to come along on the journey, even if he wasn�t invited to the destination.

�� You�you have to do better than this!� Granger
said, and circled around Draco, so that he was forced to look into her ugly
face. �Harry�s still acting abnormal. He won�t give me the time of day, unless
I promise not to talk about his mad crashing around inside the Ministry. He
spends most of his time with you, or alone, or talking to people whom I know he�s never been friendly with. He
doesn�t date��

�� He had better not, Draco thought. I don�t want to pick up any diseases.

�� He doesn�t
want to play Quidditch with Ron anymore, he almost never visits the Burrow
unless it�s a special occasion! I want to know what the fuck you�re doing with
him, and I want to know now.� Granger
had her wand leveled at his face again.

�� Draco was,
for a moment, tempted to tell her, just to watch the way her expression would
change. But he had to sigh and shake his head. �These things take time,
Granger. You might have noticed he has a dark scowl on his face most of the
time now. I don�t relax him. I�m
needling him in private, where other people won�t hear me and wonder why we
remain partners when we irritate each other so much. As for the people he�s
talking to�surely you didn�t think I could convince him to give up his quest
for vengeance so quickly?� He was curious, though he hadn�t yet admitted that
to Potter, what Granger and the Weasleys really thought of Harry�s werewolf
conspiracy plot.

�� It�s
revenge,� Granger said. �Not justice. That�s the reason why it can�t be allowed
to go on.�

�� Draco
snorted. �Then you think the Ministry really is clean, Granger? When the Dark
Lord�s followers were able to invade it so easily? When there was no large
change in its composition when Minister Shacklebolt took office?�

�� Even if it
isn�t,� said Granger, and his eyes hardened, �it isn�t Harry�s place to go
thrashing about like this. We all have to make compromises to work here. If we
wanted to act like the idealistic children we were once, then we wouldn�t have
chosen careers in the Ministry. I
know that I want to make a difference for other people. I�m not as obsessed
with the office politics that go on around me as Harry is.�

�� Draco
peered at her. �Are you sure that Potter�s the one acting abnormally, and not
you? At the very least, he�s acting more Gryffindor.�

�� Granger
hissed under her breath. �Listen, Malfoy,� she said. �It�s true that Harry has
caused a little less trouble since
he�s been with you. Or maybe he just hasn�t been as obvious about it,� she
added darkly. �But either way, it�s not like him to be this obsessed
with just one thing. He should know that sometimes you just have to let things
go, and wait for a better day.�

�� Draco
rolled his eyes. �I seem to remember that Potter spent a good portion of sixth
year following me around.�

�� What does that
have to do with anything?� Granger exclaimed, as he�d known she would.
�Besides, Malfoy, you were up to something.�

�� Draco
controlled his response. Snapping would do him no good at all. �And has it
occurred to you that, just maybe, the people Potter�s trying to trail are �up
to something?�� he asked, mimicking her tone as accurately as possible. �Have
you listened to his story?�

�� I think��
Granger shook her head. �Listen, Malfoy, there�s no evidence for any of it.
Harry�s been under a lot of stress�stress that you�re adding to, by the
way�and��

�� I think
you�re adding more to it than he is, Hermione.�

�� Draco had
seen the door of Shacklebolt�s office open from the corner of his eye, but
Granger evidently hadn�t. She started immediately when Potter stepped up behind
her and spoke into the corner of her ear. She whirled around with her wand out,
in fact, leaving Draco to blink and wonder just what Potter�s friends
were thinking of him.

�� Harry,�
Granger muttered, and swallowed thickly. Then she rallied. �That�s not funny,
you know.�

�� I didn�t
do it for laughs.� And indeed, Potter�s face was as bereft of humor as Draco
had ever seen it, close competition, at least, for the morning he had told
Draco about the werewolf pack. He glanced at Draco. �I don�t think either of us
thinks this is amusing, unless Draco has a perspective on this that he hasn�t
told me about yet.�

�� Hiding his
surprise to hear himself addressed by his first name, Draco simply shook his
head.

�� See? No
one�s laughing. You don�t have to feel left out, Hermione.� Potter cocked his
head. �Now, I know that you�re done interrogating my partner, because lately
you can�t stand to be in the same corridor I am, so if you would kindly leave
us alone? Draco and I have a great deal to do.� He turned and started striding
away before Granger could react. Draco decided he might as well follow, though
he lingered enough behind Potter�s steps to get a good look at what Granger
might decide to do in the meantime.

�� Granger
closed one hand hard about her wand. Draco shook his from his sleeve. But in
the end, it seemed Granger couldn�t bring herself to shoot a hex at her former
friend�s back, or that of his chosen partner, either.

�� She
contented herself with a sulky call of, �You�ve changed, Harry.�

�� Potter
turned back to face her. There was humor in his eyes now. Briefly, Draco felt
sorry for Granger.

�� You�ve
missed the part where you convince me that�s a bad thing,� Potter said lightly,
and then tilted his head at Draco. �Perhaps you�d care for a blowjob when we
arrive back at the office?� he asked, in a slightly lowered voice.

�� Draco
nodded at once. He couldn�t think of a mood where he wouldn�t care for a
blowjob from Harry Potter.

�� Really, the
man was a treasure. He was ready to pay fourfold for a few simple favors that
Draco could easily do him. And he was no longer so arrogant as he�d been in
school, which, Draco found, made him much better company.

�� Draco had
always known the prices of most of the people around him. For the first time,
he thought he might be learning to appreciate the value of something, too.

*

�� Draco
dropped into a defensive crouch the moment he nudged the door to his office
open. There was blood everywhere, sprawling in long, lazy streams along the
floor and extending from Potter�s chair behind the desk. A moment later, a
groan announced that the culprit was still inside the room. Draco narrowed his
eyes and felt his hand twitch. A curse just this side of Dark settled on his
tongue.

�� It�s only
me, Draco,� Potter�s hoarse voice said. Then he hauled himself upright and
leaned on his desk, ostentatiously ignoring the bleeding wound on his right
shoulder, which, Draco deduced, had been the source of most of the redness on
the floor. �You�re jumpy,� he added, when he spotted the drawn wand. �I was
only trying to find some towels that might stop this bleeding for a while until
I can cast a healing spell, but I�ve been all over the damn room and can�t find
any. I don�t suppose you know where one might be?�

�� Draco,
never taking his eyes from Potter, Transfigured one of the pieces of parchment
spread over his desk and held the resulting towel out. Potter looked only
mildly embarrassed as he pressed it against his injury. He shrugged, then
hissed under his breath and muttered, �I should remember not to do that.� He
raised his voice. �Sorry. I�ll clean this mess up in just a moment.�

�� The door
shut behind him with a satisfying bang as he passed inside the office.
Draco was sure that no one would care and come to check. Half the Aurors had
bets on when Potter and Malfoy would return to their disputes and break their
partnership apart in noisy recrimination. They wouldn�t want to interrupt a
fight that could be the decisive moment. Draco kept his voice as flat and
precise as the wand movements he�d used to Transfigure the towel. �What
happened to you?�

�� I went to
speak with Dyers this morning.� Potter sat down in his chair. Now that Draco
had time to pay attention to something other than his own defensive instincts,
he saw how pale the other man was, and that he favored his right leg, too,
although no blood was seeping through his robes or trousers there.

�� Let me
guess.� Draco steepled his fingers in front of him to prevent himself from
lashing out. He�d had no idea that Potter intended to act so soon. A few
days of reconnaissance would have been Draco�s style, followed by at least a
week more to learn Dyers�s routine. Instead, Potter had gone in only four days
after Draco gave him the man�s name. �He wasn�t sympathetic.�

�� Potter
laughed softly. �He was fine. But I was attacked on my way back to the
Apparition point.� He pressed the towel more firmly against the wound, and
shifted over to pick up his wand, which lay on the desk. �Don�t worry,� he
added. �I already checked, and even though it was full moon last night, this
isn�t a werewolf bite. They were using some kind of spell, I think. Hermione�s
told me about a few that conjure a vicious dog for as long as you need it, then
Vanish them again.�

�� Draco shook
his head. �You�re an idiot,� he said at last, because those were the only words
that would take care of what he was feeling adequately. �Why didn�t you contact
me and ask me to go along?�

�� Potter
raised his eyebrows, then waved his wand and murmured something. Draco tried to
sway sideways from the yellow bolt of light that came towards him, but it
struck him anyway and surrounded his face with a faint golden glow. He sat up
straighter, glaring. He was tempted to hex Potter. Getting blood all over the
office floor deserved at least that much.

�� What did
you do to me?� he demanded.

�� Checked
that you were the real Draco Malfoy.� Potter made a sharp gesture with his
right hand, then winced and hissed as his wound reminded him it was there. �Why
didn�t I contact you and ask you to go along? Draco. This has never been reciprocal,
remember? Or, at least, not past the first exchange of favors. I give you
blowjobs and money and help you advance in the Ministry. I�m not going to ask
you to risk your hide in a fight not your own, any more than I would ask you to
give me a blowjob in return.�

�� Draco
opened his mouth, and then realized he didn�t have anything to say in response
to that. After all, the nature of his bargain with Potter was indeed just that:
they did things for each other, but not on a continuous basis. Even the trust
they�d developed together in the field was only that natural for Auror partners
who needed to watch each other�s back, and no more. Draco knew they would never
have the friendship that partners often had, and which he knew Potter had had
with Ideala Grand before she betrayed him.

�� He shut his
mouth and glared. �If you die,� he said, �what happens to my chances for
advancement in the Ministry?�

�� Potter
smiled ruefully. �That�s true, Draco. I�ll think about it in a little more
depth next time.� He brightened. Draco bit his lip, telling himself that he was
not jealous of anyone else for putting that look on Potter�s face. It was a
ridiculous thing to be jealous of. And how could he be jealous in any case,
when he was a young man who would do brilliant things in another few years? �At
the very least, Dyers gave me my next name. He knows a few people who would be
willing to work with us, and pull down the people who engineered this
disaster.�

�� Who are
they?� Draco asked, trying to pretend no more than casual interest.

�� Potter
shook his head. �Sorry, Draco. Dyers made me swear an Unbreakable Vow not to
tell anyone else.�

�� Draco
turned back to his paperwork. He had more of it now that Potter had become his
partner, but he still cleared his desk with the same efficiency.

�� And why
should he care what mad things Potter did in pursuit of his vengeance? He would
probably manage to survive. He was Harry Potter, and that helped.

�� Draco
should only want to be at the side of someone who had helped him for years,
because that person�s value would outweigh the risk he was taking. And as interesting
and worthwhile a companion as Potter had proven himself to be�as much of a
shame as it would be to have that talented mouth slack forever�he hadn�t
crossed that line yet.

*

�� Did you
see the Daily Prophet this morning?�

�� Draco
didn�t bother to look up, but only shook the newspaper, which was spread out in
front of him, in praise of Potter�s observational skills. Potter laughed, that
sound Draco loved to hear, and shut the door behind himself.

�� Yes, well,
that was one of mine.� Potter stretched his arms over his head, wincing only
slightly. It had been a few weeks since he received the shoulder wound, and it
had healed more swiftly than Draco thought it should. Perhaps Potter visited
St. Mungo�s on the sly, he thought, watching around the edge of the
newspaper. �I couldn�t quite believe it when we managed to hook her. She
survived unscathed through her crimes at Hogwarts and her part in the Voldemort
war, but Dolores Umbridge is out of the Ministry at last.�

�� Hmm,� said
Draco. He could feel his cock stirring as he watched Potter stretch again and
take a few swift steps in lieu of a victory dance. �I know what would put me
in a celebratory mood.� He shoved his chair back from the desk and spread his
legs, patting the side of his thigh.

�� Potter laughed
softly. His eyes were a color Draco had never seen before, a bright green close
to malachite, but the same lust sparkled in them as always. He took one stride,
slid easily to his knees, and waved his wand. Draco�s clothes were open before
he knew it, and then his erection vanished inside a perfect, warm, wet mouth.

�� Potter�s
better mood led to a better blowjob, though Draco wouldn�t have believed that
if someone had told him so, since they�d been pretty fucking spectacular
before. His tongue tried new and experimental patterns. He varied his breath as
well as the motion of his mouth when he hummed, and he bobbed his head as if he
were a Muggle child with a lolly. His hands roamed, for the first time Draco
could remember, stroking the tender skin along his thighs and dipping just
behind Draco�s balls to rub there. Draco caught his breath deep in his chest
and came explosively down his partner�s throat.

�� He was
still weak-kneed and panting when Potter pulled back, winked, and did up his
trousers again. Draco sat there, gazing down at him, wordless. Then he found
his hand lowering, as if of its own free will, to tangle his fingers in
Potter�s hair.

�� With an
easy chuckle, Potter pulled back from the touch. �Come on, Draco, no need to
tax yourself,� he said. He stood and glanced at his desk, his posture casually
shielding his crotch from Draco�s covetous gaze. �Dyers thinks that we should
be able to go after the next major conspirator soon. We haven�t found any ties
to Shacklebolt yet, which means the upper levels of the Ministry may not change
as much as we thought.� He whirled around, and Draco was able to make out no
sign of arousal. �But that doesn�t mean you won�t still get a proper position.
I promised it, and I�ll make sure of it. A man of your talents shouldn�t be
wasted.�

�� Arrogant
Potter. He thinks more of his own talents than he does of mine, I�m certain. Draco
avoided Potter�s gaze, and showed nothing of the bile rising up his throat. He
just nodded. �Of course,� he murmured.

�� He rubbed
his fingers together several times that day. They felt oddly dry. Potter
probably had dandruff, and he�d spread it to Draco when Draco skimmed his hair.

�� He couldn�t
see any sign of dandruff, no matter how closely he studied Potter. Of course,
that mattered not a whit. The git probably had enough sense to cast spells that
would keep it shielded from plain sight. It was only someone who touched him
who would know the difference.

*

�� A furious
pounding on his door awakened him from a dream of gripping Potter�s hair and
fucking his mouth, so hard�

�� Draco
jerked up, erect and gasping, and realized that he was still in their office.
He�d fallen asleep over the desk, stubbornly trying to finish up one more of
paperwork before he went home to the Manor, this time on a case where he and
Potter had arrested five wizards trying to smuggle living demiguises into
Britain. He licked his lips, cast a spell to take away the erection, and strode
to the door, since the intruder didn�t intend to stop knocking.

�� Yes?�
he snarled, only to find himself on the end of a wand. He thought for a moment
Potter�s enemies had come hunting him, before a Lumos charm flared and
he realized he was blinking down at Granger.

�� Do come
in,� he said, stepping out of the way and rolling his eyes when she immediately
pushed past him to settle in his chair. See, Potter, even your friends agree
that I have better taste in furniture.

�� It�s been
a month, Malfoy,� Granger said. She folded her arms and regarded him with a
disturbing air of calm. �You haven�t made any progress. I�m going to
Shacklebolt tomorrow and telling him that you should be removed as Harry�s
partner, unless you can tell me that you�ll have Harry back to normal by
morning.�

�� Then
you�ll have to go to Shacklebolt, I�m afraid,� said Draco, and yawned. He
didn�t try to conceal it. Did Granger think it was easy, being a field
Auror? Since she had chosen to study magical law, she remained behind a desk
most of the time.

�� You don�t
care, do you, Malfoy?�

�� About your
threats?� Draco shook his head and settled in Harry�s chair, which tilted
alarmingly beneath him. �Not a great deal, no. I think you�d find, if you took
a moment to look at reality, that Harry is causing quite a stir of interest in
the Ministry. Most people think it would be a good idea to accommodate him. I�m
unlikely to be dismissed because you think that�s what should happen.�

�� I meant
that you don�t care about Harry,� Granger clarified impatiently. �A true friend
would have wanted him to stop this madness. He�s already been hurt several
times.�

�� He was
only hurt once,� Draco said sharply.

�� Granger
sniffed at him. �No, he wasn�t. There was the shoulder wound four weeks ago,
and he was limping last Tuesday, and then he broke a finger last weekend, and
he came in favoring his left arm this morning. That�s what I mean. You don�t
care about him. He�ll die on your watch because you can�t be arsed to pay
attention to anything but your career.�

�� Draco hated
the jealousy that flooded him then, sharp and sour as vinegar. If Potter was
hurt, he should have been the first to know; it could affect his
performance in the field, and therefore Draco�s own safety. Granger didn�t care
about Potter either, since she had tried to hire Draco to spy on him. Draco
didn�t want the position of Potter�s best friend, but since he�d been
fulfilling that role by default for the past several months, he at least should
get some of the special consideration that came with it.

�� Maybe,� he
said, summoning up the reserves of venom he had dammed too often around
Granger, �if you and Weasley could have been arsed to believe him in the first
place about the werewolves, he would never have had to come to me.�

�� Granger
slammed her hands on the desk. �There is nothing about werewolves behind
this, Malfoy! Harry�s just gone a little mad in his need for vengeance, and
he�s trying to hunt and pull down people who have nothing to do with the
original cause!�

�� If you
believe that, then why aren�t you stopping him?� Draco dug his fingers into his
arm to prevent himself from lashing out this time. �You�re supposed to be
Gryffindors, aren�t you? Against the suffering of the innocent and all that.�

�� No one can
stop Harry when he gets in one of these moods.� Granger shook her head
impatiently. �We couldn�t talk him out of following you, or out of suspecting
that there was something wrong with Snape in our first year at Hogwarts, even
though Snape wasn�t the one trying to steal the Philosopher�s Stone.�

�� Somehow,�
Draco murmured, �you don�t comfort me. He was right about me, after all. And
he�s right that Snape was involved in defending the Stone, even if he wasn�t
trying to take it.�

�� Granger ran
a hand through her hair, which sprang up and looked ugly behind the sweep of
her fingers. �You don�t understand, at all. He�s not right about this.
We�ve tried and tried to explain that to him. We�ve tried to listen to him
sympathetically. We�ve tried to bring him back to himself. He doesn�t want to
come back.�

�� Then maybe
this is what he is now,� Draco shot back, �and you should respect that and
learn to deal with him on this level.�

�� I want my
friend back,� Granger said. �And I won�t get him this way.� She stalked away,
paused long enough to say, �I�m going to Shacklebolt tomorrow,� and then flung
the door open and flung it shut behind her.

�� Draco was
left alone to brood on the fact that he hadn�t seen Potter�s wounds, which must
have meant that Potter had gone out of his way to conceal them from Draco�s
probing eyes.

�� I should
have known. The conviction grew in him as he felt jealousy boil once more,
pickling his heart. I have a right to know.

*

�� Why didn�t
you tell me?�

�� Potter had
the nerve to let the door fall shut behind him as if it were an ordinary
morning, and to frown at Draco as if he had no idea what he meant. �Tell you
what? There are lots of things that I�m forbidden to tell you by the
Unbreakable Vow, Draco. I thought you knew that.�

�� Not that,�
Draco spat, and rose to his feet, his wand clenched tightly in his fist. �You
didn�t tell me that you were wounded after the first time. You should have told
me��

��

�� Why?�
Potter�s eyes were still bright with amusement. �None of the rest of them
caused me to bleed on the floor. And that first one discomfited you so much��

�� It did not
discomfit me��

�� You
weren�t watching your own expression,� Potter said, now with an infuriating
gentleness. �You looked absolutely disgusted, and not a little angry.� He
shrugged. �I had them treated before they could interfere with my performance
in the field. I assumed you would rather not know.�

�� I have a right
to know,� Draco said, and stalked a little closer, watching for Potter�s wand.

�� No,
actually, you don�t.� Potter still looked amused, but he folded his arms and
leaned against his desk. �You never volunteered to come with me on these hunts.
As long as I stay alive and in shape to benefit you, then it shouldn�t matter
to you where I�m going or what happens on those journeys. You�ll notice that I
took no cuts to the mouth.�

�� The
jealousy and the anger were feeding on one another, tugging on Draco�s stomach
like the urge to vomit. �You think this is only about what shape you�re in when
you give me blowjobs, you bastard?�

�� Of
course,� Potter said, and finally his eyes started to darken and his brows to
bend down. �What else would it be about?�

�� Draco hit
him with a Body-Bind, or tried. It seemed that Potter had an instinctive
reaction to that particular wand movement. He spun out of the way, ducked
behind his desk, and came up holding his wand, to fire a purple line of light
at Draco.

�� Draco
probably wouldn�t have been able to dodge that a month ago, but becoming a
field Auror had paid off in more ways than the obvious. He folded to the
ground, and heard the sound of an impact with the wall behind him, mingled with
the smell of burning wood.

�� He fired
from the floor. Potter cursed in startled tones as his right foot suddenly took
on a life of its own and tried to hop away from him. While he was casting Finite
Incantatem on it, Draco climbed back to his feet and aimed a spell that
should feel like someone kicking him in the teeth at Potter�s face.

�� Potter was
still too alert for that, though, and cast a Shield Charm before Draco�s blow
could land.

�� And then
they began fighting so fast that Draco couldn�t distinguish one spell from
another. He knew he used Shield Charms, and that some of the hexes got through
and stung fierce wounds into being along his shoulders and spine. He also knew
that he had burned off the hem of Potter�s robes and some of his skin, but he wouldn�t
give up. He just gritted his teeth and came in harder, as if that would
solve anything. Draco cut Potter�s desk in half down the middle and destroyed
his horrible Muggle chair; Potter retorted by flipping his desk over
when Draco tried to hide under it and taking off the arms of his comfortable
seat.

�� In the
maelstrom of adrenaline and magic, Draco became aware that he was screaming,
raw, wordless cries, and that Potter was shouting, louder and louder each time
because his words were blocked by Draco�s voice, �Malfoy, what is this about?
What on earth did I do? Look, will you calm down�will you just�fuck,
that hurt��

�� You cut me
out of it!� Draco finally said, when the urge to simply scream had passed and
he wanted Potter to know the depth of his folly. He dropped to his heels and
flung himself into an arching movement to escape the curse headed for his
chest, and then finally managed to fire a Body-Bind that Potter couldn�t
escape. The other man fell stiffly to the floor in front of one weirdly glowing
half of his desk. Draco stood up and advanced on him, resisting, with some
difficulty, the temptation to kick him in the groin. �You didn�t let me help!
You never once asked me my opinion! And then you moved away when I tried to
touch you!�

�� Potter
stared at him with those dark green eyes from the middle of a motionless face.

�� You didn�t
give me the chance to make up my own mind about you,� Draco whispered heatedly,
crouching down next to him, gripping his chin, and shaking it. �You told me
that story about losing your partner and your allies, but you never thought
that I�d sympathize, did you? Oh, no, everyone knows that Slytherins
don�t do sympathy! You just assumed what I�d do and did the opposite. You said
you didn�t want to tax me, but I know the truth. You thought you
wouldn�t get anything out of me, so why bother even asking it?

�� Well, let
me tell you something, Potter. I�ve changed more in the last five years than
you could ever imagine. I learned more during the war than you could
ever imagine. Going after you in the Room of Hidden Things was the last
genuinely stupid thing I ever did. And I�m not stupid enough to let someone
like you hold me at a distance when I have the chance to get closer to
you. Do you fucking understand now?�

�� He paused,
his chest heaving, and then remembered that Potter�s jaw was bound and he
couldn�t answer. He fumbled for his wand and cast a localized Finite
Incantatem, just enough so that Potter could answer back.

�� No, I
don�t fucking understand,� Potter whispered. �I wasn�t taking your choices
away, for God�s sake. I was keeping you safe. And I was offering you
what you said you wanted. What�s the problem now, Malfoy? Did you change
your mind about the price? I�ll give you something else, if��

�� Fuck yes,�
said Draco, his voice rough, and not just with the screaming. �Let me show you
what I want.�

�� And he cast
again to release the Body-Bind, then surged forwards and seized Potter�s lips
in a kiss.

�� Or maybe it
wasn�t a kiss. Call it a passion-filled snog, Draco thought, through the haze
filling his head. That would do quite well. His tongue was ramming into
Potter�s, and his teeth were clicking against Potter�s, and his body reported
all sorts of wonderful and disturbing sensations from elsewhere as he forced his
face further and further into Potter�s, breathing noisily, chewing, licking,
trying to climb into him.

�� Then
Potter�s tongue answered back.

�� Draco
opened his mouth wider and bit down on Potter�s lower lip. That won him a
startled exclamation, followed a moment later by a moan. Draco smirked, smug as
a centaur at the revelation that Potter liked a bit of pain with his pleasure.
He had known it, based on the way he sometimes gagged around Draco�s
cock but insisted on sticking it down his throat anyway.

�� Potter
spread his legs then, and started answering with the rest of his body as well
as with his mouth. Draco snarled in welcome and let himself be rolled over. If
Potter had some need to dominate, let him dominate, as long as it meant that
they were both finally engaging in this, and that the bastard wouldn�t
hide his arousal any longer.

�� So long as
he gave Draco the choice, instead of assuming, like a Gryffindor git,
that he already knew everything about Draco.

�� Potter�s
knees were locked on either side of his legs. Draco�s legs were locked around
Potter�s hips. It didn�t make for the best angle for rutting together at first,
but they found a rhythm that suited them both, and they didn�t need to find
their passion. It rose and crashed over them like a drowning wave, and Potter
practically howled with eagerness. Draco wondered for a moment whether
that bite might have been from a werewolf after all.

�� And then he
lost himself to the wonderfully painful pressure against his cock from an
inviting hardness�finally finally�and the tight pinch of his trousers
around it and the unsteady, frantic motions of Potter�s hips and the mouth that
was still trying to devour his, even as it meant that Potter had to bend his
neck down at an awkward angle.

�� And those
eyes, dark with lust at last, and drowning drowning drowning Draco in
deepest green.

�� When he
came, it was an affair of arched back and stretched spine and legs bent to the
snapping point. A muffled wail bubbled in the back of his throat. He felt
Potter�s shoulders, Potter�s shoulders, tensing with his own climax and
trembling with his own furious grunts, and his satisfaction tore through him so
hard that it left him trembling like a swimmer who�d tried to outrace a flood
in the aftermath.

�� Potter�s
face twisted in orgasm, and his eyes widened. Then he threw back his head, and
a sound like the deeper cousin of that laugh Draco loved ripped his throat
apart. And Draco found himself stroking Potter�s flanks, his torso, everywhere
he could reach, hoarsely whispering encouragement.

�� The agony
of wanting was worth it, he thought when Potter had collapsed across him in a
limp, sweaty mess, given what he got as a prize. And then Potter turned his
head and laid his cheek across Draco�s in a simple, wordless gesture that made
have to close his eyes. Well, that was all right. Everyone had to close their
eyes sometimes.

�� Wow,�
Potter said at last, like the uneducated, completely uneloquent halfblood he
was.

�� Yes,�
Draco said. He dredged up determination, remembering that Potter might change
his mind now that the heat of the moment was past. �And I meant what I said. I
have a new price. You can stop paying me Galleons; I don�t need them, since
I�ll be sharing your bank vault. But we share, from now on, partnership
and power and sex.�

�� You�re
sure you won�t change your mind?� Potter braced himself with an arm on Draco�s
chest and pulled back to stare into his face. �This isn�t your fight. Or,� he
amended, probably warned by the flash in Draco�s eyes, �it doesn�t have to be,
anyway. There�s no reason for you to take on danger��

�� Except
that you are doing so,� Draco said, �and I know what you�re worth. I�ll have
you know, Potter, that that�s one thing no Malfoy has ever neglected to
do.�

�� What�s
that?� Potter blinked. Draco wondered idly how clear his face was to Potter
right now. Potter�s glasses were hanging askew off one ear. Draco�s had flown
across the room somewhere. The charm to keep them on one�s face was meant for
running and dodging, not for a session of passionate sex.

�� Protect
their investments,� said Draco.

�� When Potter
smiled and bent down for another kiss, Draco knew he was understood.

*

�� He�s
talking about aiming for Head Auror, now.� Granger stood in the door of Draco�s
office, staring at him. Her hands were on her hips. Draco thought of mentioning
how unattractive it made her look, but then decided not to. Why should it be
his duty to improve her appearance? �You know that he won�t do well in that
position.�

�� Draco
stretched his legs out on his desk�unlike the one Harry had ruined, this was
not an antique from the Manor, so he might as well rest his feet on it�put his
hands behind his head, and grinned at Granger. �Oh, I don�t know,� he said
cheerfully. �With that newfound obsession with office politics you�ve described
more than once, there�s no reason he shouldn�t do well. And now that
he�s mostly cleaned out the Auror Department by having Ernest Thicknesse
arrested, he very sensibly wants to make sure that no more corruption creeps
back in, or he�d have to do it all over again.�

�� Granger
shook her head and twined a curl around her finger. �But he never used
to be like this,� she muttered. �I think you�ve been a bad influence on him.�

�� Draco
dropped the grin and his feet. He leaned forwards and rested his elbows on the
desk. �Granger,� he said clearly. She shot him a started glance. �Hearing
people die three feet from him, people he was helpless to save, changed him. So
did having someone he trusted absolutely betray him. Whether or not you want to
admit that, it�s still true. I�d think that you�d want to learn what the new
Harry�s like and befriend him, instead of constantly bemoaning that he�ll never
be the same again.�

�� Why do you
care?� she challenged him.

�� Because
not being friends with you hurts Harry,� Draco said. �And I don�t like it when
he hurts. Stop it.�

�� Protecting
your ticket to fame and fortune, Malfoy?� Granger�s eyes were narrowed with
dislike.

�� I knew
you wouldn�t understand,� Draco said with resigned distaste.

�� Damn right
she doesn�t,� said a voice from behind Granger, and Harry stepped past her and
into the office. He circled around to stand next to Draco at once. Draco rose
to his feet. The desk was between them, but a quick slide took care of that,
and then he could set his shoulder against Harry�s and curl his arm around his.
Harry gave him a quick smile, but his eyes were hard and dark with anger when
he turned back to the woman who had been his best friend.

�� I�ve just
become more aware, Hermione,� he said quietly but intensely. �I�m not a cynic.
I know what my name�s worth now, that�s all, and that I can�t fight every evil
with a wand. I�m doing more good in the Ministry than I�d manage otherwise in
twenty years. Is that really worth arguing over?�

�� We just
want you back, Harry,� Granger whispered. Her eyes glistened.

�� Harry
shrugged. �You can have me, but on my terms. And those terms require
acknowledging, first, that you believe me about the werewolves�and with
Thicknesse�s little confession yesterday, I have no idea why you still doubt
me�and then apologizing. When that happens, maybe we can have dinner together.�

�� Not at the
Manor,� Draco interjected. �I have some standards.�

�� Of
course,� Harry agreed, kissing his hair.

�� How can
you stand him, Harry?� Granger asked, her voice rising. �He�s horrible.�

�� Draco
turned his head to the side, presenting his profile, the better to show off his
narrowed eyes and expression of utter scorn. �I�m someone who knows exactly
what Harry�s worth, Granger, and how to value him,� he said. �A lesson you lost
along the way, when you started demanding that he conform to your terms and
ignore his own changes just because you didn�t share that experience with him.�

�� He keeps
talking about worth,� Granger said, past him, to Harry. �Can�t you see that he
just wants to use you?�

�� There are
so many different kinds of worth, Hermione,� Harry said, in a dismissive tone.

�� Granger
stalked out. Harry stood gazing after her sadly for a moment. Draco rolled his
eyes. I have to do something, or he�ll brood the rest of the morning, and
that�s something I would be quite happy never to share again.

�� There are
many different kinds of worth, you�re right,� he said. �For now, I think I need
to appraise your mouth again, since it�s been a whole two hours and it may have
lost some of its savor in the meantime.�

�� And Harry
let go with that resonant laugh that Draco loved, and his eyes shifted from one
kind of darkness to another. Draco had learned to appreciate those, too.

�� Draco
dragged him into a kiss, smug again.

No Malfoy ever made a better
bargain.��
- 1
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Knowing the Price and the Value