It's been a while since I've written any Fanfiction. I just can't seem to stay away.

This one is set three years after the war. Draco, along with other reformed Death Eaters, works at the Ministry side by side with those on the winning side. Though the Ministry has gone to great lengths to bring the two groups together, Draco remains skeptical. He finds it hard to believe Harry, Ron and Neville don't harbor some ill will toward him.

Draco stood in front of his fireplace and sighed. He dreaded going to the Ministry Gala–Ministry Masquerade, he corrected himself. However, after finding out both of his coworkers in the Department of Intoxicating Substances as well as most of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would be attending, he succumbed to peer pressure.

He pulled his mask down over his face and stepped through the Floo Network directly into the Atrium. Three years after the fall of Voldemort, the Ministry of Magic had been returned to its former glory. The golden Fountain of Magical Brethren replaced the dark statue of a witch and wizard sitting on a throne of Muggles. Glancing up, Draco admired the serenity of the peacock blue ceiling. He sighed again.

All around him, partygoers dressed in combinations of black, silver and gold took part in conversations, ate near the buffet tables, or toasted one another with expensive liquor.

Someone bumped him from behind.

"Honestly, Draco, if you're not going to make an effort, why bother coming?"

Due to the mask covering her face, he resorted to deducing the woman's identity by her voice. She grinned and laughed at his hesitation.

"Blythe," he nodded.

Her smile dropped. "No fair. How did you know it was me?"

He wasn't certain telling her it was her distinctive cackle that gave her away, Draco opted for flattery. "Who else possesses such a dazzling smile? And how did you discover me so quickly? I've scarcely been here five minutes."

"Your hair. I spotted it a mile away."

"Oh, I didn't even consider that," he frowned.

Blythe took out her wand. "It isn't much of a disguise if you don't change your hair as well. Shall I?"

He nodded again. "But I think this whole idea is ridiculous."

As she transformed his platinum blond locks to sandy brown, she said, "Oh, come on. It's a little exciting, isn't it? It's an opportunity to get to know people without the stigma of being on the losing side of the war. We're all equal here tonight. And you just might make a new friend or two."

"And you've already violated the terms of the Masquerade. We aren't supposed to give ourselves away. No names. No department information. Not until we all remove our masks at the stroke of midnight. How cliché."

She laughed. "Well, technically, you gave yourself away. And it's not my fault you guessed my identity. Now go mingle." She shooed him away after replacing her wand.

Draco turned toward the crowd, shaking his head.

The Ministry and their endless quest to unify the remaining wizards in the U.K. How is one supposed to go about getting to know other wizards without giving away personal information? he thought.

If his stomach hadn't grumbled just then, he might have spent the entire evening in the same spot. The buffet spread looked tasty, so he made his way over to make up a platter for himself.

Another woman chatted him up, this one not knowing who he was. They talked about the latest Ministry policy changes, and the weather, for a few minutes before moving on.

Draco's evening proceeded similarly for the next hour, until he was bored and tired, and only wanted to go home.

"You look about as crestfallen as I feel," a voice beside him said.

Draco turned to find a man holding out a long stemmed glass of pale bubbly liquid.

"Maybe this will help," the man offered.

"Thank you." Draco took a sip and smirked. "The Ministry has excellent taste in champagne."

"Of course," the other man said. "Are you not enjoying yourself?"

"With the same mundane small talk over and over again?"

"Who said it has to be mundane? We could talk about how many pet Kneazles you have?"

At that, Draco laughed. "I'm afraid I don't have any. Only an owl."

"That's boring."

"What about you, then? How many Kneazles do you own?"

The man chuckled. "None. I have only an owl as well."

"Then why would you ask . . ." Draco shook his head again. "You're a bit odd, aren't you?"

"No, not really. I'm trying to make both of our evenings a bit more interesting. Now it's your turn to ask me a question."

"Oh. All right." Draco pressed his lips together in thought. Most of his previous conversation had been generic and polite, so he tried to think of something slightly more personal yet not too revealing.

Before Draco knew it, enough time had passed that pudding was being served at the buffets. Perhaps the Ministry was onto something after all. He found himself actually enjoying the evening.

"I know you're not supposed to tell me what department you work in, but how about telling me your favorite hobby. What sort of things do you like to do in your down time?" Draco asked. The pair had made their way over to the sweets and he popped a chocolate truffle into his mouth.

"Hmm. I don't actually have much down time," the man laughed. "I suppose playing cards is my favorite pastime. And sampling different sorts of foods. I like to go to a different ethnic Muggle restaurant at least once a month." He paused. "That's more boring than having no Kneazles, yeah?"


"I never thought of myself as being a boring bloke. But the more I tell you about myself, the more I realize I am."

"Well, you've held my attention longer than most of the people here tonight," Draco pointed out.

"Glad to hear it. Since you brought up hobbies, I assume you have one of your own."

Nodding, Draco replied, "Potions. I enjoy experimenting with new and exotic ingredients."

"Have you come up with any potions of your own?"

"I'm very close to perfecting a stamina potion– er, not that I need it." Draco blushed and sipped his champagne to keep from embarrassing himself further.

"Stamina, eh?" The man grinned. "We could all use a little more of that from time to time. Something to cut down the wait time in between, if you know what I mean." He nudged Draco in the ribs.

For the first time that night, Draco was thankful for the mask covering his face. The other man, however, didn't seem self-conscious in the least.

The man continued. "That, or being able to hold off long enough to satisfy your young lady. Or young man."

Draco turned sharply. He didn't think a straight man would have added that last part.

"Are you gay?"

"Now there's an interesting question," the man chuckled. He shrugged. "Since you don't who I am, I'll answer. I'm not quite out of the closet yet, but I am most definitely gay."

The corner of Draco's mouth rose. The evening just got exponentially more interesting. Though he'd suspected that the man had been trying to flirt with him, being unable to read his face put enough doubt in Draco's mind not to act on it.

The man leaned close and spoke in a low voice, "Here's the part where you either let me down gently or confirm my suspicions."

"You suspicions are confirmed," Draco replied.

"Excellent. Are you in or out? Of the closet, I mean."

Pursing his lips, Draco wasn't certain how to answer. He was proudly out, even at work. But there were so few of them at the Ministry who were open about their sexuality, it wouldn't be difficult to narrow down Draco's identity.

"Yes," he finally answered.

"What? Oh, I see. Not giving away too much." The man sipped the last of his champagne. "So, now that we've gotten to the point, what do you say we make this a night to remember?"


"The loos here are much roomier than those in public bars. Have you noticed?"

Once again, Draco was glad to have his blush covered by a mask. "Can't say that I have," he admitted.

"Well, then, why I don't I give you the tour?"

The man turned and began to walk toward the hall in which the restrooms resided. Draco glanced around quickly before following him. He pushed open the door with a silhouette of a presumably male wizard holding a wand at an unintentionally provocative angle. Or perhaps Draco merely had sex on his mind.

The loo was quiet and all of the stall doors were closed. He was beginning to second guess himself when the last door on the right opened slightly and a crooked finger beckoned him. Though his mind was trying desperately to talk him out of following, his body, one part in particular, urged him forward. It had been far too long since he'd had a warm body next to his own.

"I wasn't sure if you were coming," Draco's mystery man whispered.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I am."

The man laughed. "You're funny. I like you."

"I'm not really known for my sense of humor."

"What are you known for?"

"Turn around and I'll show you."

The man complied with a moan.

Taking out his wand, Draco cast a Silencio on the stall as well as a Disillusionment Charm on the pair of them. He could hear the man's breath, heavy with anticipation, as he began unbuttoning the man's trousers.

"I don't usually carry lube with me. I need to cast a lubrication spell."

"Yes. Please. Hurry."

Draco let the man's trousers and pants fall to the floor. He unzipped his own trousers and released his hardened cock. No point in getting his clothes dirty from the loo floor. With a flick of his wand, a small puddle of oil appeared in his cupped hand.

"Spread your legs," ordered Draco, rubbing the oil between the man's arse cheeks.

As the first finger slipped inside, his anonymous lover groaned loudly.

"You can go faster than that. Put another one in."

Happy to oblige, Draco shoved in a second finger and began scissoring. From the feel of the man's arse, he was quite experienced. Especially for someone still in the closet.

"Come on. Just fuck me," the man demanded.

"My pleasure." Draco tucked his wand back into his secret pocket and turned the pair of them all the way around. He didn't fancy looking into a toilet while fucked this man's lovely, round arse.

In expectation, the man leaned over and braced his hands on the stall door. "I'm ready. Fuck me hard."

Without another word, Draco pushed his way inside, watching his cock disappear and reappear with every stroke. The man's arse hugged Draco's cock with enough pressure to keep him stimulated, yet not so much as to make him cum too quickly. After all, he hadn't perfected that stamina potion thus far.

Draco gripped the hips in front of him to angle them where they would bring each of them the most pleasure. When his lover cried out, he knew he'd found it.

"Merlin's fucking beard. Ah, fuck." Expletives poured from the man's mouth as Draco pounded him into oblivion. He got louder with nearly every push, and Draco was thankful he'd remembered the Silenco.

The sound of wet flesh fapping reminded Draco to be a thoughtful lover. He nudged the man's hand away and gripped his erection, stroking in time with their hips.

"Oh, yes. Oh fuck. I'm so close. I'm going to fucking explode."

Draco had never been with anybody so vocal before. It was on the verge of sounding like a performance. If Draco hadn't been confident in his abilities as a top, he may have believed it was all fake.

"More, more," the man begged. "Oh, gods. Don't stop."

At the stirrings of his own impending orgasm, Draco reached under the man's shirt with his other hand. His fingers pinched and tweaked the stiff nipple.

"Fuck. Oh yes. Oh yes. I'm cumming. I'm cumming!"

The sudden squeezing of the man's arse around his cock brought Draco along with the boisterous bloke. He let out an involuntary moan as his cock emptied itself through several strong pulses.

Meanwhile, his lover had spewed cum all over the stall door and floor, still cursing out his ecstasy.

They both froze in place when the loo door opened and footsteps indicated a fellow walking in to use the urinal. Even with the charms in place, they didn't dare move until the intruder had finished, washed his hands, and left.

"Fuck, that was good," Draco's mystery lover proclaimed.

Draco took out his wand and Scourgified the area, including the two men before concealing himself behind his trousers once again.

"Yes, it was."

When they had finished putting themselves back together in preparation for rejoining the party, the mystery lover traced a finger over Draco's lips.

"I'm only disappointed that I didn't get to kiss you."

"What's stopping you?"

"These damned masks."

"We could take them off," suggested Draco.

"Isn't that against the rules?"

"Only until midnight. But, we're still under the Disillusionment Charm. No one will know if we reveal ourselves early." Sensing the man's hesitation, Draco offered to go first.

He pulled his mask up and off his head. The other man's jaw dropped.

"Draco Malfoy?"

"You know me."

"Your hair is a bit different, but yeah. You're somewhat of a minor celebrity."

"Celebrity," Draco scoffed. "That isn't how most people describe me." Draco took out his wand to cast a Finite Incantatem to get rid of the sandy brown hair color. "Your turn."

"Oh." But the man made no effort to remove his mask.

They stood staring at one another a few moments.

"So much for unity," Draco sighed. "Well, thanks for the fuck."

He removed the Silencio and Disillusionment Charms, opened the stall door and walked out, without his mask on. At that point, he didn't give a fuck. He'd gone along with the game. He'd made an effort. But in the end, the Ministry's plan to bring together all the witches and wizards as one united force was a bust. There would always be prejudices. Draco realized the irony of that, considering he held many prejudices against other groups for years. At least he could say that he'd grown beyond those hateful notions. Unlike the man he'd left in the loo.

He would have liked to think that he didn't give a fuck. But the fact was, he'd shagged a man in a Ministry toilet, and now that man knew his identity and could use the information however he wished. And Draco had no idea who he was. He would be wondering, every time he spoke with a male coworker, if he was the man who charmed him into lowering his standards and putting aside his morals in favor of reckless abandon.