"jealous"
Draco stood outside Orion’s apartment door, a bottle of wine in one hand and a folder of reports in the other. He’d convinced himself this visit was purely professional—a quick stop to check on Orion and go over a few case notes. The wine was just a gesture of goodwill. Nothing more.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked.
It only took a few moments for the door to open. But instead of Orion, Draco was greeted by none other than Harry Potter.
“Potter?” Draco asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.
Harry stood in the doorway, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. “Malfoy? What are you doing here?”
Draco’s gaze darted past Harry into the apartment, where he spotted Orion leaning against the kitchen counter, a glass of firewhisky in hand.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Draco replied, his tone sharper than he intended.
Harry smirked, stepping aside to let him in. “I was just about to leave, actually.”
Draco walked in, his eyes immediately locking onto Orion, who raised his glass in greeting.
“Malfoy,” Orion said smoothly, his glowing eyes flickering with intrigue. “Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
Draco held up the wine and folder. “I thought we could go over these reports. Didn’t realize you already had company.”
Harry chuckled, grabbing his coat from the back of a chair. “Don’t let me stop you. Orion just dragged me out of a sea of reporters earlier. I owed him a drink.”
Draco’s jaw tightened slightly, though he couldn’t quite place why. “How chivalrous of you,” he muttered, setting the wine and folder on the counter.
Harry shot Orion a knowing look before heading toward the door. “See you tomorrow, Veyne. Malfoy.”
Draco didn’t respond, his focus shifting entirely to Orion as the door closed behind Harry.
Orion smirked, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Jealous, are we?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco snapped, though his ears burned. “I just didn’t expect to find him here. Since when are you and Potter so… chummy?”
Orion shrugged, setting his glass down. “We’re colleagues. We were talking shop.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Talking shop over firewhisky?”
Orion stepped closer, his glowing eyes meeting Draco’s. “You could say the same about you bringing wine to my place at this hour.”
Draco opened his mouth to retort but found himself momentarily speechless. Orion’s presence always had a way of throwing him off balance, and this time was no different.
“I… thought you might want to go over the case,” Draco said finally, gesturing toward the folder.
Orion leaned against the counter, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Always so professional, Malfoy.”
Draco rolled his eyes, his irritation returning. “If you’re too busy entertaining Potter, I can leave.”
Orion’s smile softened, and he reached out to take the bottle of wine from the counter. “Stay. I’d rather go over it with you anyway.”
Draco hesitated for a moment before nodding, his earlier annoyance fading. As Orion poured them both a glass of wine and motioned for him to sit, Draco couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.
Whatever Potter and Orion had been talking about, it didn’t matter now. This was Draco’s moment, and he wasn’t about to waste it.
Orion handed Draco a glass of wine and settled into the armchair opposite him. The folder of reports lay untouched on the coffee table between them, but neither made a move to open it right away.
“So,” Orion began, swirling his wine lazily, “what’s so pressing about these reports that you’d brave a late-night visit to my flat?”
Draco took a small sip of his wine, using the moment to compose himself. “We’re scheduled for another mission soon, and I thought it would be best if we were fully prepared. Unlike some, I prefer not to leave things to chance.”
Orion chuckled, his glowing eyes fixed on Draco. “You’ve got me all wrong, Malfoy. I’m a big fan of preparation. I just don’t let it consume me.”
Draco narrowed his eyes slightly. “A little more consumption might do you some good. These missions aren’t exactly low-risk.”
“True,” Orion admitted, leaning back in his chair. “But then again, neither are you.”
Draco blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Orion’s smirk grew. “You act like you’re all precision and control, but you’ve got fire, Malfoy. I’ve seen it. You’re not as predictable as you think.”
Draco’s grip on his glass tightened, though he wasn’t sure if it was from irritation or something else entirely. “If this is your idea of flattery, Veyne, it’s as unrefined as your choice of words.”
Orion laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and Draco felt the tension in the room shift. “Maybe it is,” Orion said, his voice softer now. “Or maybe I just enjoy watching you squirm.”
Draco glared at him, though his heart was beating faster than he’d like to admit. “Can we focus on the reports, or is that too mundane for someone like you?”
Orion inclined his head, a teasing glint in his eye. “Of course, Malfoy. Whatever you say.”
He reached for the folder and flipped it open, but Draco couldn’t help noticing the way the soft glow of Orion’s eyes reflected off the pages, casting faint patterns of light onto the table.
It was mesmerizing, and for a moment, Draco forgot what they were supposed to be discussing.
“Draco.”
The use of his first name pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up to see Orion watching him intently, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
“You’re staring.”
Draco’s cheeks flushed, and he quickly looked down at the folder. “Just making sure you’re actually paying attention.”
Orion chuckled but didn’t press further, and they settled into a rhythm of reviewing the reports. Still, the charged atmosphere lingered, and Draco couldn’t shake the feeling that Orion knew exactly how much he’d gotten under his skin.
When they finally finished, Draco stood to leave, his movements brisk as if to shake off the tension. Orion walked him to the door, leaning casually against the frame as Draco stepped out into the hallway.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Orion said, his voice low and warm.
Draco hesitated, his gaze flickering to Orion’s glowing eyes one last time. “Just… be ready for the mission.”
Orion’s smirk softened into something more genuine. “Always.”
As the door closed behind him, Draco exhaled sharply, clutching the wine bottle tightly as he made his way down the corridor. He told himself it was just a routine visit, but the lingering warmth in his chest suggested otherwise.