Chapter 4
After that intense moment of eye contact, it seemed as though everyone was talking about Potter. No matter what corner Draco turned, Potter seemed to come up in someone’s conversation.
“I saw him being levicorped out of the office to the apparition point,” an older witch with formidably tall hair glanced worriedly towards Potter's office, “He was unconscious, but his entire body was completely tense…”
Draco lingered near the shitty muggle coffee machine the office aquired in an attempt to be more inclusive of traditional muggleborns pretending to be busy.
The other witch she was speaking with, a woman with a noticeable Irish accent, frowned and shook her head. “Granger was quite loud with the spells, it must’ve taken a great deal of force to subdue him.”
Draco pressed the on button and looked at the cup size options on the machine. The tiny pictures meant to depict the sizes were not helpful in the slightest. Draco bit back a groan and chose the middle one; it seemed like a safe bet.
“He’s back now, but he’s looking quite pale, isn’t he?” The woman with the hair tilts her head, making her hair tip precariously to the left. Draco wonders briefly how much hairspray the woman uses to keep it intact.
“I don’t think he’s quite well yet.” The Irish woman glances in the direction of Potter's office, which had had the blinds closed since Potter had returned. “He’s not come out much since the first day he returned.”
Draco didn’t know whether to agree with that statement or refute it. He had most certainly seen Potter hanging about the office but it wasn’t the way it was before the incident.
Before Granger stunned Potter to Sunday and back, he was constantly wandering around the office in Draco’s peripheral vision. Now that Draco thought about it, there wasn’t a single day since he started working in the ministry he didn’t at least see Potter hovering nearby.
Since the incident, the only time he saw Potter is when he peered through his blinds with deep bags under his eyes. Draco frowned and looked down at his coffee cup, which had long since overflowed with boiling water, not even coffee.
“Blasted thing.” Draco removes the cup from the machine, burning himself in the process, “Fucks sake.”
He places a tea bag inside with a sigh. Not the coffee he wanted, but it was close enough for now. He’d need to grab a real coffee later.
As he turns to stop eavesdropping and go back to his desk, he spots the harrowed eyes of Potter peering at him through the blinds. He looked particularly upset, a fiery glow that Draco couldn’t entirely be sure he imagined filling his eyes.
When Draco finally managed to tear his gaze from the other man, the coffee machine was on fire. As much as he wanted to mutter a good riddance and be on his way, he couldn’t very well let the fire burn the ministry down.
He sighs and casts an Auguamenti. Unfortunately, that only seemed to fuel the fire further.
“Fuck.” Draco’s eyes widened.
He hadn’t really ever been a fan of fire. Who was? But after what happened the Fiendfyre, he didn’t cope particularly well with it.
Draco felt his breathing grow shallow and his hands start to shake. The rational side of him helpfully pointed out that the center of the office was not the best place to have a panic attack.
Draco started backing up rapidly, stumbling away from the fire that couldn’t be put out with water. When he bumped into something solid, he wretched his head behind him.
Potter stood, tired and pale as he had been all week. Draco faintly felt Potter guide him to stand behind him as he tried to catch his breath. It was easier with Potter there; after all, afterall it's not the first time he had saved him from an inextinguishable fire. Draco takes deep gasps of air and tries to ignore the smoke.
“That's an eletrical fire Malfoy, waters not much help,” Potter casts a blanket charm over the fire and Draco watches as smoke curls and the fire snuffs itself out.
~~~
Harry had very much been avoiding Malfoy all week.
The simple act of seeing him in the office was enough to cool him slightly but the second Malfoy goes somewhere Harry can’t see he freaks out a little. He’d like to say that he had been using this week to adjust to his Veela side and cope with Malfoy’s absence. Unfortunetly though Harry is not a liar.
Harry hadn’t really even done any further reading on his… condition beyond the romance novel that he was thoroughly engrossed in, and he doubted much of that was true.
He had been watching Malfoy again when it happened, moving his blinds aside to stare at him like some sort of creeper. Malfoy had been trying to use the coffee machine. It was a piece of shit, most of the office knew that much.
Nobody knew exactly who brought the god awful thing here, but it hadn’t been getting all that much use. The only thing it was really good for was harassing interns and even they quickly learned to avoid it completely.
Which is why Harry was so concerned when he saw Draco using the damn thing. His usual single glance at the man was not enough to stop the horrible fire that pooled beneath his skin at the distance between himself and Malfoy. No he had to watch to make sure he didn’t hurt himself somehow.
He was already feeling slightly vindicated seeing Malfoy burn himself. No Harry wasn’t crazy that coffee machine really was a danger to Malfoy and he was right to have been watching, not that he could do anything of course, but now he knows exactly how bad it was.
Harry was well on his way to closing his blinds and going back to trying to do his actual job when the coffee machine burst into flame.
Harry itched, he wanted to rush to Malfoys side and save him, put the fire out and hold him close make sure he wasn’t burnt. But Malfoy had it covered he was a grown man for fucks sake. He didn’t need Harry coming in to snuff the fire out. Besides, Malfoy only looked vaguely miffed, not bothered by the flames at all.
But still, Harry couldn’t stop watching. Malfoy casts an Auguamenti and Harry suddenly knows his original fears were justified. A look of panic overtakes Malfoy and he starts backing up.
Before Harry can even blink, he had apparated behind Malfoy, never mind the anti-apperation wards. Harry had bigger things to worry about then a few measly wards.
As soon as he was close enough to feel Malfoy bumping into his chest, the antsy feeling that had been following him all week slipped away.
Harry places a hand on the small of Malfoys back, guiding him behind him, unable to convince himself not to use the opportunity to touch him.
It should soothe him, a deeper part of him argued. No way Malfoy didn’t need to a grounding touch right now and Harry’s was the only one that was possible.
Malfoy gasps for air behind him, he at least seems to be starting to calm down.
“Thats an eletrical fire Malfoy, waters not much help,” Harry snuffs the fire out with slightly more aggression then necessary if the immediate extinguishing is anything to go on.