Title: Draco Preparedness
Author: olimakiella
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, Seamus/Blaise, OMCs
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. I also don't own Xerox paper.
Warning(s): Secondary character mpreg. Severe obliviousness. EWE
Word Count: 7,092/14,120
Summary: Being an events planner for the Quidditch World Cup Gala is not so new to Draco Malfoy, neither is working on a tight budget with a low work force. This time around he's been given the QWC Liaison to make the work easier. Only problem is the Liaison is Harry Potter, fresh from a stint of prolonged meditation and finding himself. Potter has other matters on his mind, like offering Draco unwanted lunches, trapping him in elevators and generally just being confusing. Draco seriously believes Potter has it in for him – and he does – just not the way Draco believes...

Part 2

Harry turned the pages of the manual Ron had told him about the day before. He'd meant it as a joke but Harry still wanted to be careful. Draco may not be a natural disaster as Ron put it, but getting caught in the crosswind of his anger could still put a man in hospital. Gareth Pavil was proof of that. Besides, he was curious what the manual would say, how it would differ from those that existed in the Muggle world. With magic on their side, he imagined the emergency procedures would differ. As he read through, he found out some spells he'd never thought to use before, but other than that it was pretty standard 'Stand in doorways and get under sturdy desks'. He wouldn't mind a sturdy desk being involved in his plans. He grinned. Like the one in Draco's office. He wouldn't be getting under it though.

Hmm, he smiled to himself, perhaps this manual could be of assistance after all...

Always make sure your kit is fully stocked. Ensure extra food and emergency supplies are fresh and adequate.

Harry looked up, staring blankly towards his kitchen. Extra food... huh.


Blaise Zabini raised his head from the magazine he was reading. He promptly lowered it again. "Potter. What do you want?"

Harry was unsure about Blaise; since he'd met the man again he'd been a little hot and cold. He didn't know if it was his pregnancy or his nature. "I would like a word with your boss, if you don't mind."

Blaise scoffed. "And I'd like to know why you're trying to get into his pants, if you don't mind." His hand violently flipped the page.

Caught off guard, Harry replied as much as he could. "Er, what?"

Blaise let out a humourless chuckle raising his head. "Oh, and you've suddenly gone deaf, delightful." He didn't sound as worried as his expression implied.

Spluttering, Harry said, "I'm not –"

"And now you lie," Blaise deadpanned. He lowered his head one last time to his magazine and turned the page. Harry was sure he hadn't taken in anything from the page. "Good day, Potter." He turned another page.

Staring at the dark-skinned man, Harry wondered at the protective streak everyone seemed to have towards the blond. Then again, he couldn't talk, could he? "Okay, Blaise, look." Blaise turned back to him, ready for his excuse. Harry disliked the look but didn't have any way of wiping it off the pregnant man's face. "I like him, okay? A lot. I realise there seem to be quite a bit of people that are protective of him –" He thought back to the group of men he'd seen talking about Draco at a table in the cafeteria. "– and another set who are a little unsavoury in their intentions if you ask me –"

"I didn't," Blaise said, cutting him off.

Harry stumbled in his words when Blaise stopped him. "Er, okay. But they are, and I swear if Malcolm Tinebridge doesn't stop ogling him every time he bends over –" Harry took a deep breath to stop himself. He was supposed to be over this kind of behaviour. Four years of meditation and training and all it took was one smile from Malfoy to break it. He shut his eyes, remembering it. "That fucking smile." He shook his head at himself wondering how long it would take him to get over this. This kind of behaviour wasn't normal. He suddenly realised he was just standing there with Blaise staring at him. He blushed red and looked away.

Blaise surveyed him for a few seconds before turning to his desk. "The next time you come here, you will bring me chocolate éclairs."

Harry frowned, not understanding what that meant. "What about – you're not gonna to let me in?"

Blaise cocked an eyebrow. "Draco isn't here. But if you want to get in when he is, you will do as I say."

Harry stared at the door, dejected. He isn't here? "Do you know where he is?"

Blaise shrugged as he turned yet another page in his magazine. "He's at the hall; the window dressings came in and he has to help the decorator sort them and match them to the windows before they're put up later in the week."

Harry nodded his thanks as he started off down the corridor. As suddenly as he left, he stopped. Harry glanced at Draco's office door before turning his attention to the smug gaze of Blaise Zabini. "Who else is bringing you éclairs?"

Blaise grinned and sat back in his chair as his hand absently ran over his distended stomach. "No one that's obsessing over his smile, I can tell you that."

Draco caught sight of Harry as he walked into the hall. "Hello Draco."

He forced himself to keep his eyes open as Potter said his name like a physical caress. It wasn't bloody fair that the man could do that. He was certain he didn't – couldn't affect the man in the same way. "Potter," he said, handing a colour chart to his assistant, Audley, "I didn't call you for a consult." Potter was staring at his assistant, who suddenly moved away from Draco, claiming someone was calling him, before his gaze moved to him.

The brunet's eyebrows rose. "I have to be summoned in order to come and see you?"

Draco frowned at that. "Why else would you need to see me?" He saw Harry pause, as if realising Draco posed a valid question. Draco sighed. He wished people would just spit it out when they came to ask him for things. It made everything so much easier.

Harry lifted a bag up for him to see. "I went out for lunch and saw that cafe you and Hermione are always going on about so I decided to pop in and see if they sold real food instead of the treats you both seem to favour. Turns out they do but the size of the portion is way too big for me. I just wondered if you were up for sharing."

Draco stood perplexed. "You want to share it with me?" He tried, very bloody hard, to come up with a logical explanation for this but one just wasn't coming. It didn't make any sense.

"Well," Harry began, "Ron would wolf it down either way and Hermione has already eaten. I'm willing to bet you've been here all day and haven't had anything in your stomach since the coffee Ron brought you this morning. Besides, you're the only one that would savour a meal like this. You view anything from there as a work of art. It would actually be a privilege to give it to you." He shook the bag gently. "What do you say?"

Draco looked from the bag, to Harry, to the hall and the people busily working around him. Surely if he left for half an hour they wouldn't notice? He turned to find Audley and let him know that he was going for lunch.

"You took him to lunch?" Ron asked him.

Harry smiled. He'd had a really good time sitting in his office. He'd never thought just sitting at a table and talking to Draco would make him so giddy. It was weird. "Yeah – no, actually, I brought him lunch." Ron seemed surprised. "You said he gets asked out a lot and he just refuses." He shrugged. "I tried a different angle."

"A wise angle," Ron said as he leaned back against the wall of the lift. He shut his eyes as he rolled his head around to stretch the muscles of his neck.

"Tired?" he heard, and looked up to see Harry watching him curiously. He nodded.

"Yeah, a load of kids – vandals – used a paint spell to draw rude words on the side of one of the stadiums; Kingsley has them in interrogation, one in each room, trying to see if they'll give each other up. We got two witnesses and each of them is ninety-eight." He rolled his eyes. "Every other word out of their mouth is 'childish' and 'punishment'. It's doing my head in." He looked up to see Harry smiling as he stared at a wall. He gave out a sigh. "Of course, we could just hold them on the words alone; 'Avada Kedavra Hairy Pothead' should be enough for a conviction these days." He crossed his arms as the lift doors opened.

"Hmm," Harry said. "Wait – what?" he spluttered.

Ron scoffed, uncrossing his arms and shaking his head as he exited, leaving Harry behind. "Don't know why I bother."

"Ron," Harry called. "Ron, I'm sorry. Really." He pulled on his best friend's arm as he stormed to his desk. Ron stopped and allowed himself to be turned around. "I'm just very distracted right now."

Ron stared at him before giving a slight chuckle. "I've heard Draco can do that to a man."

Harry straightened. "What man?" Ron rolled his eyes.

"What's next in your plan of action?" He took off for his cubicle again, dropping the file in his hands down on the desk before sitting down in his chair.

"Well, the manual you got me –"

Ron's eyes widened. "You're actually following it?"

Harry perched on the edge of his desk. "Not all of it, but it has some good pointers. It's how I ended up with Draco having lunch yesterday in my office. I'm thinking of doing it again. Soon." He grinned and stood. "I'm off."

Ron looked up at him; the man seemed happy. He rolled his eyes, knowing where he was off to. "I dread to think where," he said making fun of him.

Harry smiled. "I'm gonna hover in his doorway." Ron frowned, not understanding. Harry noticed. "When experiencing the telltale shakes of an earthquake, find a strong doorway to stand in if you cannot find anywhere safer," he quoted. He grinned and hurried off.

Ron shook his head, still not believing his friend was using an emergency manual to get Draco interested. "I'm seeing this ending badly." He turned back to his file.

It was hard to think of something witty to say when Draco returned to his office to see Harry leaning on his doorframe and talking to Blaise like they were old friends. He handed his assistant the signed contract he had in his hands and walked up to the pair. He should be accustomed to this by now. Harry had been hanging around him for days. His stomach seemed to think it all a novelty, though, and continued to flip over every time he saw the brunet. When he'd turned up at his door with lunch, it was hard to turn him down. It seemed that Potter couldn't cook, as he was always buying his lunch from a cafe or restaurant in Diagon Alley. It also seemed as if Harry had trouble ordering proper portions, because he was always coming to Draco help him polish them off. Draco found it hard to resist saying yes. The food he ordered was always food from a place he liked. Harry's company wasn't so bad either. The man had asked Draco and Hermione where the best places were to eat and they'd told him their usual haunts. Apparently, he'd taken them to heart as he only ever bought food from those places and he always ordered the wrong size meal. Draco chuckled to himself. Living for so long around a monastery must have addled the Saviour's brains.

"Blaise, remind me why I hired you?"

Blaise didn't miss a beat. "Because I'm gorgeous eye candy," he deadpanned.

Draco rolled his eyes. It really was no use, he zeroed his sights on Harry instead. "Potter, what brings you here?"

Harry narrowed his eyes playfully at the blond. "Why do you always insinuate I only come to see you when I want something?"

"Why else would you come here?"

"To prostrate himself at your mercy, obviously," Blaise said. Draco ignored him and focused his attention on the brunet in front of him. He waited.

Harry chuckled. "I actually came to give you this." He reached into his robe pocket. Draco then took the time to notice that Harry had on a set of robes and he actually looked really good in them.

"What's this?" he said, taking the flower from him in surprise.

Harry's smile faltered a little at the confused look on Draco's face. "A rose. You like roses, don't you?"

Draco remained perplexed. "Er, I guess. Why are you giving it to me?" Harry paused. Draco was staring at him as if the entire situation was the strangest thing he'd ever encountered. He faltered.

He fought for something to say, anything. "Well, the colour is nice. I thought you'd like it."

At Harry's words, Draco understood and looked at it again, as if seeing it for the first time. "Actually, that is nice, yes. Where did you get it from?" he asked.

Harry perked up, seeing the renewed interest. It didn't look as if the blond was going to give it back to him now. He smiled proudly. "I made it."

Draco seemed impressed. Harry beamed at the smile he received. "Oh! What spell did you use, can you teach it to me?"

Harry's smile faltered a little again. "Why?" he asked curiously.

Draco was still staring at the rose as he went inside his office followed by Audley, his assistant. Harry eyed the young man as he walked past Harry and into Draco's office. His eyes narrowed a little. He ignored Blaise's chuckle and stepped into the office himself. "Its colour is perfect," he said, distracted. "Hey, Audley, take this to the hall and match it to the table cloths would you, I'm on my way. Isn't this colour perfect?" He handed Audley the rose and the young man set off, probably back to the hall to match the colour of the table cloths to the exact shades of the rose. Harry felt resentful as Audley passed him, giving him a sympathetic look as he went. "Nice work, Potter, not bad. This may save me a lot of time." Draco was rifling through his desk drawers until he found a file he was searching for. "Ah!" he said, getting it, and patted Harry's arm as he passed him by on his way out.

"I aim to please," he said quietly as Draco walked away. "Sadly."

Hermione met her best friend in his office. He'd promised to take her to lunch by way of apologising for stealing her usual eating companion. Ron was busy with a case and Draco was getting busier as the gala was fast approaching next week. She stepped into his office, quietly knocking on the door to see Harry glaring at his desk.

"Oh dear. What has your desk done to you this time?" she asked him light-heartedly.

Harry's gaze snapped up to her and his expression softened into a smile. "Nothing. I was just thinking."

Hermione walk-waddled to the other chair in the room and sat down slowly. She was due soon. The Minister had insisted she take her maternity leave; there was already a stand-in for her waiting to take over for the months she would be away, but Hermione had wanted to come to work. Her job wasn't dangerous and she sat down for most of the day anyway. She'd go crazy if she stayed at home, she just knew it. "Now there's a dangerous pastime."

He chuckled. "You should know."

She nodded. "I should." She relaxed back into the softness, wishing she could lean forward and touch his hand. "Come on, what's bothering you?"

Harry seemed stressed. He'd been bridging the gap between crazed delight and dejection since he'd come back to the ministry and she had an idea why. It was sweet, actually, how Harry seemed to be courting Draco. Too bad the blond hadn't noticed. Hermione shook her head at Draco's obliviousness; for all he confided in her about wanting someone to show him they wanted him for something outside of the bedroom, the blinders he had on were pretty effective. "Hermione, I think I'm going mad." He was laughing, but Hermione had a feeling it wasn't at anything remotely funny.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean –" Harry began, but stopped. He didn't sound like he knew where to go from there. "I don't know what I mean any more. He's driving me insane. I've tried everything. I even followed the stupid book and nothing I do is getting through to him." Harry stood up and started pacing. "I'm bringing him lunch nearly every day, we're eating lunch together and all he does is say thank you then go back to work." He stopped and stared at her. Hermione was taken aback by the frustration she could see brewing in his eyes. "I brought him a rose last week, did you know? I spent ages adjusting the spell Brother Matthews taught me to adjust the colour and he just uses it to match to bloody tablecloths and curtains." Hermione recognised the name from the letters Harry used to send her and Ron when he was away. Brother Matthews had helped him come to terms with a lot in his life. "I meet him at the hall every day just to see his face and he still insists that I'm there only because I want something. It's frustrating, Hermione. Nothing I do is good enough. Anyone else that comes up to him, he sees as wanting to get into his pants. What am I doing wrong?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You want him to see you as one of those men trying to get into his pants?"

Harry raked his hands through his hair like he wanted to scream. "No! But I would like to know how to get out of this friend-zone he's slotted me into without being seen as a potential mannequin for his wand practice."

Hermione felt the giggle and fought it down for Harry's sake. "Oh Harry, you have to forgive him. He's not used to the kind of attention you're giving him. What you're doing is the same thing me and Ron do all the time. Maybe going at it from this angle is better. He sees you as a friend now, so all you have to do is give him a little push so he can see you in a new light. Whatever book you're using, keep at it. It seems to be working." Spoken like a true friend who doesn't know I'm using an Emergency Procedures Manual as a reference guide. He didn't feel like divulging that piece on information; she sounded so proud of him, he didn't want to ruin the moment. Harry was kneeling on the floor next to her now and she ran her hands through his hair in comfort.

He raised his head. "Really?" he said, hopeful.

She nodded. "Yeah. He turns me down now when I ask him out for lunch because he's not sure if you're going to order the wrong portion again. He thinks you're frightfully inept at feeding yourself, Harry. It's kind of sweet."

He hung his head. "That's all I need. He pities me because he thinks I don't know how to order a take-away?"

Hermione laughed. "Maybe, but I'm sure he looks forward to it or else he wouldn't turn me down, would he? I've been having lunch with Ron instead." He nodded then, figuring at least the situation he was in had a silver lining. He stood up.

"You ready to go then?"

Hermione nodded and stood with his help. "Yeah, I'm starving." He led her out, closing the door behind them and caught sight of the manual Ron had given to him weeks ago. He'd abandoned it after a while, seeing as the advice he was taking from it didn't seem to be working, but he figured maybe he'd give it one more try.

In the event of an emergency, stay away from lifts and always use the stairs.

It seemed practical, but didn't fit with his plans. He needed to get the blond alone with no chance of interruption, and the lifts seemed the best place since no one else would be able to get in for a while if he hit the emergency stop button.

He caught Draco as he was leaving for the day. The gala was two days away and the blond looked so tired he was nearly dropping where he stood. Harry felt for him. He'd had days like that lately, going between stadiums and the ministry and simultaneously trying to get the blond to notice him. It was tiring work. They were walking towards the lifts, his hand at the small of Draco's back as he got the blond to follow along before the blond realised where he was.

Draco began edging to the stairs, yawning. "These lifts always take so long to get here, I'm taking the stairs."

Harry shook his head. "Nope, no stairs for you. You're likely to fall down them the rate you're going." He tugged in the man's robe sleeve. Draco seemed reluctant. "It's one floor. Come on," he wheedled. "What can happen?"

Draco was about to answer him when the lift answered for him, opening on their floor, the announcer telling them where they were as soon as the doors were open. There wasn't anyone else there. It was fast approaching five. Harry tugged a little more. "Come on, don't make me ride this thing alone." When Draco looked at him he playfully stuck out his lower lip, making the blond laugh at him.

Draco huffed. "Fine, if you need the company that badly." He followed Harry inside, leaning heavily against a railing with his eyes closed resting for the ride. Harry watched him with a smile as he pressed the button for the atrium and then carefully leaned against the control panel. When the doors closed and the lift began to move, he eyed Draco carefully and nudged the button at the bottom.

"Shit!" Draco exclaimed as the lift suddenly stopped. The lights went out and the monotonous voice that usually declared what floor they were on was politely explaining that they were now trapped until help could come.

Harry stood up straight from his inconspicuous lean against the control panel just before the emergency lights came on. The building above the ministry had been converted into an art gallery. Electricity had been filtered from above after many fights during the war had rendered parts of the ministry magic-less. There were some departments that couldn't get inter-department memoranda any more because the damn things couldn't fly. Even the lift had suffered, but no one had noticed until someone tried to get into the courtrooms and the lift had suddenly decided to plummet.

Electricity was just safer, all round.

"Oh dear," Harry said trying to sound equally as worried as the blond that was desperately pressing buttons like a man possessed. "I don't think that's going to help."

Draco was panting. "It has to help. I have to get out of here."

Harry frowned. That didn't sound like the Malfoy he knew. He looked closer and could see a glint of panic in the blond's eyes, causing Harry's mind to bring up images. How Draco had needed convincing that taking the lift up one flight would be easier than taking the stairs, how he'd seemed to stiffen when Harry tugged his sleeve, how he leaned so close to the wall with his eyes closed as soon as he'd entered the small enclosed space. How Ron and Hermione always came upstairs, passing many floors to visit Draco, and never the other way around, and, lastly, when, on his first day back in England, he'd seen Draco walking towards the lifts before seeing the blond take the stairs. He'd thought the reason behind it had been his knowledge of how long the lifts would take to arrive. He couldn't have been any more wrong.

Well, shit, Harry thought as Draco began to hyperventilate. Well, if this didn't bugger up his plans he didn't know what did.

"Ron, I'm losing my mind. I don't know what else to do." Harry raked his hands through his hair as he helped the decorator with the window dressings. The gala was set for that evening, the Quidditch World Cup finale starting in two hours. The two men had been roped into manual labour when the minister had ordered all hands on deck. Harry rolled his eyes. He was sure that decree had come from Hermione and he only had to guess who'd given her the idea. His gaze strayed to Draco as he directed people left right and centre. The hall looked gorgeous. Draco had outdone himself. The immense oak doors stood at the entrance of the hall and the large room was outfitted in shades of marble: cream, red and grey. Harry recognised the shade of red sadly and ignored it. The white walls throughout the room added a maximum of light, aided by the great chandelier above that hung with valour. It all complemented the texture of the alabaster stone ceiling and intricate filigree lines of silver, threaded through the pillars, fused in the walls that surrounded them.

"That's too high!" Harry stared down at the woman below them and frowned. They hadn't even moved. He lowered his hand nonetheless. He and Ron were on a ladder on either side of a high window. Each had a side of a large swath of red and cream material. They were a good ten feet up.

Ron adjusted his side too. "Are you sure you've tried everything? What about the manual?"

They both raised their hand higher as the twist of material was suddenly too low. "Fuck the manual, the manual is not working." He couldn't seem to get the image of Draco hyperventilating in the lift from two nights ago out of his mind. The man was two heartbeats away from an attack by the time a maintenance crew had arrived. Harry never wanted to get through that again.

"Hmm. Well, only one thing left to do then."

Subconsciously their hands followed the woman's instruction and moved lower. "What's that?"

Ron chuckled. "Just outright tell him."

"What?" Somehow, that suggestion made Harry want to revert to their previous plan.

Ron was shaking his head. "Mate, I don't know what else to tell you. I was sure that Draco would figure it out by now. He isn't usually this thick." Finally they were able to use a sticking charm and come down the ladder.

"What do you mean you 'were sure Draco would figure it out.'?" he asked incredulously.

Ron laughed. "Harry, the man gets lines and plays like yours all the time. Handing him conjured roses, getting 'trapped' in a lift, meeting him with pre-packed food for a spontaneous lunch?" Ron rolled his eyes. "Greater men than you have fallen at less. It seems to me it's either you having any interest in him doesn't even register in his mind, or he's so out of it with this gala that he's gone daft."

"Who's gone daft?" they heard behind them, and turned to see the subject of their discussion walking up to them.

Ron smirked. "You have."

Harry turned to his friend in horror. "Ron."

Draco stared between the two of them. "What?"

Ron crossed his arms. "Draco, have you noticed anything different about Harry lately?" he asked him.

Harry glared at him. "Ron."

Draco wasn't sure who to focus his attention on, Ron who seemed smug or Harry who was glaring at the red-head as if he wanted to punch him. "What?" He chanced a glance at the brunet, looking for changes. "Why? What's he done to himself?"

Ron seemed astonished that he hadn't noticed. "Surely you must have noticed. He's in love." He watched and waited for Draco's reaction. And there it was. It was almost as if he was watching someone stab Draco in the heart. As soon as the look passed over his face, though, the expression was gone.

"O-Oh. That's nice." Draco began looking around. Probably to find something to do so he can escape, Ron thought.

Can't have that. "Does it bother you?"

Draco turned back to him and saw Harry watching him to as if waiting for his reaction. "Why would it bother me?" he answered to Ron.

Ron suddenly broke out into a big smile. "Because he's in love with you."

Harry, who'd been curious before, suddenly turned grave and snapped his gaze to his – now former – best friend. "Ron!" he accused.

Draco's world seemed to have stopped spinning on its axis. "Me."

Ron grinned and then waved. "Later." He hurried off, leaving the two of them alone in a room filled with people.

Harry, desperate now, paled. "Ron! Oh I will kill him," he added quietly to himself.

"You're in love with me?" Draco was still staring at him. He too looked a little pale. Harry hoped he was breathing.

Harry knew what he wanted to say in response to that, but the words didn't seem to be coming. "I–er–well..." He was blushing, he knew it. He had to focus, damnit. Something about Draco just turned him back into the stuttering teenager he'd been before he went away.

When it didn't sound like anything else was forthcoming, Draco frowned. "You, er, well, what?" he prompted.

"Gentlemen! Please, if you aren't helping I suggest you move aside." Both of them turned to the caterer that Draco had hired. Now that the hall was finished, she was in charge of laying out the buffet.

Harry looked around. The hall really did look amazing. Draco was seriously talented to have coordinated all of this in a month. He sighed. The man was amazing. "Let's go back to your office," he said finally. "I think we need to talk."

Blaise had stayed home due to an upset stomach, so the door to Draco's office was unguarded by the magazine-reading secretary. In Draco's office, Ron's impromptu declaration of Harry's feelings was more apparent now that they were alone. Draco turned to face him, perched on his desk and waited for Harry to speak. Harry looked like he didn't know where to start.

"So," Draco said. "You're in love with me." The words sounded odd; it was hard to relate them to the man in front of him. Draco hadn't detected any interest coming from the brunet before now. "Where did this come from?"

Harry's gaze, which had been avoiding him before, suddenly fixed on him and Draco froze. "Seriously?" Harry looked incredulous.

Draco paused. "What?"

The sceptical look remained. "You seriously didn't notice." Harry ran a hand through his hair as he shook his head at himself. "Ron told me you hadn't but I didn't – I couldn't believe him, I mean – I thought I made it pretty obvious." His hands made wild gestures as he spoke. He stepped closer. "I brought you lunch nearly every day from your favourite cafe and took you to my office to eat with you privately. I went to see you all the time when you didn't even want me around. I – hell, I even tried to get stuck with you in the lift as a final attempt to get you to notice –"

That last part affected Draco the most. "That – you did that on purpose!"

Harry spluttered. He felt guilty enough as it was. Every time he remembered Draco's state in the lift his stomach turned. "I didn't know you were claustrophobic! I just didn't know what else to do. You're so fucking frustrating... in the best possible way." Harry's expression was hopeless. "What else can I do? How can I make you see?"

"I – I don't... I didn't know."

Harry held out a beseeching hand. "Well... why did you think I was doing it, Draco?" Harry stared at him, waiting for an explanation. He took a halting step closer.

"Because you're weird," Draco said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought you were just being nice or... that Granger or Weasley had talked you into it. They've done it before with people to make them back off. I wanted you t – but I can't hope for things like that. They just don't happen to me."

Harry stepped closer still, valiantly wishing he'd heard that correctly. He ignored the fact that Draco thought he was just strange. "You hoped?"

Draco let out a quick breath. "Well, of course I did. Have you seen yourself? People are drawn to you, and for good fucking reason too. You approached me with lunch, pretty much telling me you were sharing it with me because you had leftovers and didn't want to waste your money. But I enjoyed the time with you so much I didn't say anything about it. The prospect of you coming to see me for no reason is so out there I'm not even going to dwell on it. Don't even get me started on the lift. You weren't even worried in there. I was seriously beginning to think you had it in for me." He laughed at himself. "I dread to think what I have that would cause you to like me so much."

Harry stepped forward again, gaining confidence with every word Draco spoke. He couldn't believe that they'd been dancing around each other so needlessly. "It was your smile at lunch when we were threatening to cut off that guy's finger." He was much closer to Draco now and the blond wasn't pulling away or trying to hex him. He considered that an improvement.

Draco chuckled. "Really?" Harry nodded.

"So carefree and full of malice," he joked. "So beautiful," he added seriously, brushing some of Draco's hair back behind his ear. Harry pressed against Draco, closer, harder. Draco dropped his hands to balance himself on the edge of the desk as Harry pinned him to it and Harry pushed his advantage. He tilted his head. "I'm going to kiss you now."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "I'm oblivious but I'm not blind, I can see that." He braced himself against the desk and brought his head up, capturing Harry's mouth. One simple kiss turned into two, turned into a dozen, and then Harry lost count. When those kisses stopped being enough, his hands started roaming over Draco's body. He pulled the buttons of Draco's robe and shirt apart, his hands questing inside, aching to feel Draco's skin under his hands. The incredible heat seared his palms and he hissed as Draco arched against him and into his kisses. He broke away from Draco's mouth to explore his neck and ear as his fingers were exploring the creamy expanse of the back. A telltale ridge made itself apparent under his right hand and he felt it immediately when Draco tensed. Harry remembered Ron telling him he was self-conscious about that scar.

Death Eater enthusiasts had taken Ron as he'd been walking in Hogsmeade after the war. When they'd thrown him into a back room of a rundown shop, he discovered Draco was there too, beaten half to death and lying in a corner. They'd been together in the room for six days before Aurors found them. When they did, the kidnappers had got desperate and one of them fired a nasty cutting hex at Ron. Draco had recognised the spell, pushing the red-head out of the way. The cutting hex had sliced at his back near his left shoulder, going up and to the left enough to have caught Ron's neck in the process. By the time the Aurors had got to them Draco had lost a lot of blood and was well on his way to dying.

Draco was pulling away when Harry tightened his hold on him. He held Draco to him. "Don't run from me. Please, I don't care." His forehead was pressed to Draco's temple and he stayed that way, breathing calmly and waiting for Draco to relax. The hands on his biceps remained there, frozen, but little by little they slowly relaxed and Harry sighed, now able to push the robe and shirt off Draco's shoulders to pool on the desk. He pressed even closer, backing Draco up until he was sitting on some proposals addressed to a group of sponsors, his mouth capturing Draco's in the process.

Draco could feel the hardness in Harry's trousers and he rocked his hips into it, his hands moving down between them to pull at Harry's clothes. Breaking from the kiss, Harry's eyes opened, staring at him as he pulled down the zip. Harry smiled at him fondly and Draco found himself once again looking at his teeth. It was strange how his eyes were drawn to them. Maybe something was wrong with him. Harry ground his hips against him, chasing away all thought, coming towards him for another kiss and swallowing the groan that escaped Draco's lips. As Harry's hands helped divest him of his trousers he could feel his heart beating fast. He couldn't believe this was really happening. He wriggled back some more, lifting up to help Harry pull his pants down. Harry held his hands on the backs of Draco's knees once his lower half was bare to lock them in place, and leaned his forehead against Draco's, locking their gazes as he rocked his hips into him. Their skin came into contact, making him take in a shuddering breath. His eyes never leaving Harry, he began undoing the buttons of his shirt, one by one until the fabric hung on his shoulders and he could push it back and off.

Harry let his shirt fall from his wrists, leaning in to kiss the blond again. He could stand there all day kissing Draco; he couldn't get enough of him, how he felt, how he tasted. He needed him. Now. Where is my wand? He stepped away for a second to retrieve it from his robe pocket before stepping back into Draco's arms, kissing him again just because he could. A whispered lubrication spell passed between his occupied lips, but he felt his fingers get slicker and he leaned forward, moving his kisses once again to Draco's neck and shoulder as he reached between them to the apex of Draco's thighs.

Draco hissed as the finger breached him, willing himself to relax to the intrusion. Harry waited for the tight grip on his digit to loosen before moving it in and out. He could hear Draco's heavy breathing and eventually felt the blond begin to wriggle on the desk, seeking his own pleasure from Harry's finger. Harry quickly decided to add another, his patience wearing thin when faced with such an erotic sight. By three fingers, Harry was able to find Draco's prostate, amazed at the reaction such a quick graze over that small bump could do to the man before him. Draco's whole body shivered uncontrollably.

"Harry... want you..." Harry sealed his mouth over Draco's once more, opening it with his tongue to deepen the kiss. He slid a hand to the back of Draco's neck to tip his head downwards as he plundered it slowly. Removing his fingers, Harry continued capturing his mouth as he gripped Draco's thighs and thrust upwards into Draco's tight heat. He groaned as he felt his cock sink into the vice-like grip, his knees touching the wood of the desk Draco was seated on.

Draco knew nothing but that he needed more of Harry, every nerve-ending in his body suddenly alight with need. He savoured each and every movement Harry made as he began a steady rhythm, storing every gasp and moan in his mind as if he'd never hear them again. He could feel his erection being rubbed between their stomachs and he leant his head near the shell of Harry's ear. Harry shifted, pushing his face into Draco's hair, almost nuzzling it, and felt the wash of hot breath over his ear as Draco let his breathy moans escape. Keeping Draco's legs around his waist, he leaned his body into the blond's, pulling his head back a little to rest his forehead against Draco's. Parted lips ghosted over his own, barely touching as his cock grazed the sensitive spot his fingers had managed to reach earlier. Draco cried out, tightening around him impossibly, and Harry felt his orgasm approach fast and hard as he continued to thrust into the snug channel.

"Fuck." He said it more to himself as he refrained from coming immediately, but their rhythm had started to deteriorate and he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out forever. His hand moved to hold Draco's cock and he began quick relentless strokes until he felt Draco tense and bite down on his shoulder. Harry thrust once, twice before he came too, crying out Draco's name into his neck as he thrust once more, as deep as he could go, and held himself there, reluctant to let Draco go.

"Fuck," he said again as he tried to catch his breath, and felt as well as heard Draco's light agreeing laughter. He pressed a light kiss on his lips, which deepened as Draco pulled him closer. He then pressed only a bit harder, the kiss impossibly tender and unhurried. It felt like he could do this forever. When he finally let Draco go he could see Draco was already staring at him.

Draco's hands were slow as they drew some unknown pattern on Harry's chest. This was new. Neither of them had any idea how to approach this situation. He opted for an ice-breaker instead. "So, do you have a date to the gala?" Draco's gaze snapped up to him again and he felt the warm rays of his smile light his face. Draco shook his head. "Would you like one?"

Draco nodded. "I need to go home and change." Harry looked down. He rather liked the outfit he had on now. The look in Draco's eyes told him he knew what he was thinking. "That's not what 'elegant wear' means, Harry."

"Hmm, you think you can skip it altogether?"

Draco shook his head. "I have to go, I planned the thing."

Harry seemed unconvinced but he sighed. "Fine, but don't wear anything too mouth-watering." He'd have to beat the men off with a stick. "Something tells me I'm twice as likely to hex any man that gets near you. I picked up quite a few handy ones when I was away."

Draco smirked. "Maybe we could compare notes."

Harry thought back to Gareth Pavil. His arm had been broken in three places with one spell. He smirked in kind. "Hmm, or maybe I should take some."