Title: Black Knight
Author: Makoto Sagara
Series: Harry Potter
Archive: The usual suspects; anywhere else, please ask first.
Category: drabble, pre-slash
Characters/Pairing: Draco/Harry pre-slash, Harry/Ginny
Warnings: slash, angst, language, ooc, EWE, post-Hogwarts
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any money made from this piece of fanfiction.
Summary: Harry's dreams have forced him to seek out a Potion Master. Guess who?
Author's Note: This is the second drabble in a series I am referring to in my head as the "Knight Dealings." Yes, I'm aware that I'm insane. Can't be helped, can it?
"Harry, you've been distracted all week," Ginny said as she leaned over the counter of their breakfast bar. "And you look as if you haven't slept in ages. What's going on?"
"Don't say it's nothing," she cut across him. "It's obviously something. Is it to do with work?" She raked concerned brown eyes over her boyfriend's body to see if there was anything physically wrong with him that he might be hiding from her.
"No," he said through clenched teeth. It was touching, really, that she was so worried about him, but even after being a member of the Wizarding community for nearly ten years, he was still finding it difficult to deal with other people making a fuss over him. "I've just been having trouble sleeping, Gin. That's it."
She narrowed her big, probing eyes at him and sniffed disdainfully. Harry had no idea where she'd got that affectation from, but he wasn't crazy about it, that was for sure. "Well, if you need, I can pick you up a Dreamless Sleep on the way home from practice tonight."
"It's okay, Ginny," Harry said, barely holding his temper. "I'll talk to one of the Potion masters at the Ministry. I'm sure that I can get them to brew me up a batch that won't kill me or something else."
"All right," she said sceptically before going back to the big plate of bangers, eggs, bacon and toast Harry'd made for breakfast.
Since he'd become one of the top Aurors for the Ministry, Harry had lost track of which Potion masters made the potions that the Aurors took out on the field. When he walked into the labs on the far end of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he really wished he had.
"Malfoy," he said, just barely holding in a gasp of surprise at seeing the white-blond head bent over a row of cauldrons.
At the sound of his voice, he watched his boyhood rival stand up straight slowly and turn, a slow (and sexy) grin on his face. "Well, well, well, look who has walked into my laboratory. If it isn't the famous Harry Potter?" Malfoy mock-squealed. "Please hold on a moment so that I can get some paper for your autograph, Mr Saviour."
"Cut it out, you bloody prat," Harry snarled. "Are there any more Potion masters in the office?"
A slim, perfect platinum eyebrow rose. "I am the only Potion master here for the entire month. Jones is on holiday, and Roberts was loaned out to the French Ministry until they can hire their own."
"Bloody buggering fuck," Harry growled. "I'll go without then!"
"Don't be daft, Potter!" Malfoy shouted, grabbing Harry's arm before he could leave the lab. "Whatever it is, it must be important if you're here. And, seeing as how I've been brewing all the potions for your section for the last two years, there is no problem with my skill."
"I don't give a rat's arse about your skills, Malfoy." Harry was desperately trying to forget the dreams that had been plaguing him for the last week involving him and Malfoy on the Knight Bus. "Let go, before I make you."