Title: The Overworking of Harry Potter

Author: shattered

Rating: pg?

Summery: Future fic, d/h slight r/hr.  Happy fic.

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  JK's.

AN:  I had the urge to write this.  My Harry's very rich, maybe as rich as Draco.

The Overworking of Harry Potter

            Rosewood Manor was a beautiful building, it lay about a mile outside of Hogsmead and dominated to a degree the surroundings.  When standing at the drive that  lead to the front door one could see the towers of Hogwarts Castle.  The house elves insured that the property did not ever look less than perfect even thought it had stood empty for over seventeen years.  The manor was part of the vast Potter inheritance and even though it was not the nicest or the largest of the estates in Harry Potter's possession it served it's purpose admirably well.  In the seven years that Harry, his boyfriend and their two best friends had lived there most of the rooms had gone through at least minor changes, what with Draco being rather the little designer.

            But even though there were four people who called the manor home it was rare, extremely rare, to find them all there at the same time, after all they were the most efficient and productive Auror team in a century, an Unspeakable, and the youngest Minister of Magic ever.  But it was worth it to the Minister, who was currently walking through the front door.

            "Hey, anyone here?"

            "Love?"  Came softly from the den, that lay past the sitting room from the door.

            "Draco?  How long have you been home?"  Harry asked as he walked to the den.  He had to stop and smile at the picture that Draco presented, stretching and yawning then running a hand through his silver blond hair.

            "I got home at about ten thirty, took a shower, ate some lunch and settled down for a nap."  Draco levered himself out of the chair and walked over to Harry to give him a hug.  At six foot one Draco towered over Harry who only reached five foot six.  His shorter boyfriend took advantage of this fact though and tucked his head under Draco's chin.  "How was work?"

            "It was work."

            "That bad, hun?"  And he laughed, only to by cut off by the phone and Harry's wince.  "Just a sec, love."  And Draco let go of his boyfriend of nine years.  "Hello?"… "Yes, Mother, we'll be there for Christmas Eve, but we already promised Molly that we'd spend Christmas Day with them at the Burrow…Are you coming to the Ministry Gala that night?…We really don't have a choice in attendance, Mother, Harry is the Minister of Magic he can't really just not go, it would look bad…Yes, I should still be here this weekend…Of course you can come over…Bye, Mother…Yes, yes, I love you, too, goodbye."

            "Okay, darling, what's wrong?" he asked as he approached Harry.

            "I'm just a bit tired and stressed."

            "What happened?"  A knowing look and a smirk beamed down at the twenty five year old once again in his arms.  "But first let's sit down."  And he lead Harry to one of the room's over stuffed couches.  Draco sat down and pulled Harry onto his lap where he immediately began to snuggle in.  "So?"

            "Some of the Death Eaters we'd missed got really drunk and exposed themselves to a mall full of Muggles, Arthur and I had a field day with that alone.  Luckily no one got hurt.  Then Minerva and Severius decided that they needed my opinion on a student's fight record, I hope Albus gets better soon, or that Minerva learns how to run a school."  Harry mumbled into his chest.

            Draco looked down at his lover and decided that that could not be all of it.  "What else?"  A sigh was released and the black haired head burrowed further into his chest.

            "You know me too well."

            "I am your boyfriend.  I'm supposed to know you too well."

            "I suppose.  The Dursleys were in the crowd, even Dudley.  They recognized me and then went through anger and shock before they even heard my new title.  When the captain of the Obliviator squad called me Minister in front of them they were floored, it was funny in a sad pathetic sort of way.  It didn't help that I had to stun Arthur to keep him from attacking Vernon."  Another sigh.  "Plus it's like Minerva and Severius expect me to know how to run a school."

            "You were Headboy, and one of the best Hogwarts has ever had.  And you can't blame Arthur, we all want to hurt Vernon Dursley, even if you have told us to get over it a million and one times."  Draco was gently running one of his hands through Harry's hair while the other made soothing circles on his back.

            "Well, yeah but that doesn't mean that I know how to do the day to day running of a school, much less one of the size and reputation of Hogwarts."

            "It does have a rather stunning reputation doesn't it?  Creating all types of witches and wizards from you and Dumbledore to Wormtail and Voldemort, and so many in-betweens."

            "Like you?"  And the head was suddenly tilted up.

            "Yes, I suppose so."  And Draco smiled down at the wizarding world's hero.  "Got to sleep, Harry."

"Okay."  The dark head buried it's self in the black of his Weasley sweater.  "Night, Drake."

"Goodnight, love."  And Harry Potter drifted off to sleep in Draco Malfoy's arms.

            It was an hour later when the door next opened to admit Hermione and Ron Weasley in to the manor.  They followed the light only to find their friend still watching the man sleeping in his arms.  "Draco," Hermione whispered to the blond.  "You got home today?"

            "Yes, I did."  And he shifted Harry so that the raven headed boy was sleeping on the couch and stood up.  "Harry's exhausted."

            "We figured he would be so we bought stuff to make  food, good thing I made sure I had enough to leave leftovers, hun?"  Hermione responded quietly as they moved into the kitchen.  Harry was the best cook of the lot but Draco and Hermione weren't too bad, Ron was absolutely helpless.  With both Draco and Hermione working and Ron setting up the table they were ready to eat in thirty minutes.  Draco went to wake up Harry while Hermione dished the food up.

            "Harry, love, it's time to wake up."

            "Drake?  Okay I'm up."  And Harry swung his legs out then stood.  He teetered for a moment then got his balance back.  They made their way into the eating area of the kitchen, it was far less formal than the either the dinning room, which was a grand affair, or the breakfast room which was entirely too cold in the latter parts of Autumn and all of Winter.  "Hey, Ron, 'Mione."

            "Hey, Harry.  Enjoy your nap?"  'Mione smiled at him.

            "Yes, mate, you must have been really tired."  Ron sent him a sympathetic look.

            "I was."

            "The Prophet?  At this time of night?"  Hermione was shocked when the three owls streaked in through the window to Harry, Draco, and herself.  Ron snatched Harry's paper seeing as he was still too tired to read it.  He didn't even notice as the three faces around him darkened as they read the front page article and evidently the reason why the paper had added another addition that late at night.  They ate as they read and finished eating at about the same time they finished reading.  When Harry did notice their expressions, about a minute before they started to berate him, he wondered at their cause until he saw the article title: Cornelius Fudge Left Seven Years of Paperwork to the Current Minister: Harry Potter Working More Than Fudge Ever Did Trying to Catch Up.  It made perfect sense, but who had spilled?

            "Is it true?"  Draco looked pissed, gray eyes flashing and hands clenched.

            Harry averted his eyes, "Yes."

            "Why didn't you tell anyone?"  Hermione looked exasperated.

            "It was my problem to deal with."

            "Harry, if people had known they wouldn't have piled so many other things on you."  Ron was being oddly reasonable.

            "I hadn't thought of it like that."

            "Let me guess, you thought they would think that you weren't able to do your job properly?"  Draco was almost scathing and he didn't bother to wait for an answer.  "Of course you did, not everyone's looking to find fault in you, Harry, and no one would have even tried to pin seven years of undone paperwork on you."

            "Sorry."

            "Don't be sorry, Harry, you didn't do any thing wrong."  Hermione reached over to pat his arm.

            "Yeah, mate, you just made a logic error."  Ron agreed.

            "I guess."

            "Don't worry we'll take a bit of time off, I'm sure that they'll let us, to help you catch up, and I'll handle the decorations for the Christmas Gala."

            "Thanks, Drake, 'Mione, Ron."

            "No problem, Harry."

            "I wonder if this isn't what whoever told had in mind.  You know that Harry get a decreased workload."

            "Well, whether or not it's what they had in mind his going to get one."  Ron responded to 'Mione's statement.

            "Yes, he is but right now him and all of his housemates are going to go to bed."  The Weasley's turned at Draco's voice to see Harry slumped against his boyfriend, fast asleep.

            Hermione shook her head, "Goodnight, Draco."  She then started to levitate the dishes to the kitchen and then used a cleaning charm and put them away.

            "Goodnight, 'Mione, Ron."  And Draco rose from the table scooped up Harry and carried him to their bed.  As Draco put Harry down he seemed to wake up partially.

            "Dragon?"

            "Yes, Harry, love?"  Draco was preparing himself and Harry for sleep, and Harry's pajama shirt wasn't on yet.

            "How long 'til you're back on assignment?"

            "Not 'til after New Year's, sweetheart, not 'til after New Year's."

            "Oh, okay." Harry managed to climb into the bed and Draco followed him.  "Night, Drake.  I love you."

            "I love you, too, Harry, I love you, too."  And Draco hugged the sleeping form of his boyfriend, then proceeded to bury his face in the jet black hair.  "I live for you."

AN:  I had to write this.  My other story is inspirationless and motivationless and thus is on hiatus, sorry if you care.  Reviews would help.

Love to all, shattered