Chapter 11
“I still can’t believe you recommend him.”
“Well Luna practically forced me to! She’s like a dog with a bone about things.” Hermione laughed. Harry ordered two coffees from a cart vendor and they waited.
“You know,” The girl at the cart smiled coyly. “You kinda look like Harry Potter.”
“I hate to disappoint you.” Harry lifted his hair and showed her there was no scar.
“Oh, well. I guess you don’t have glasses either.” She shrugged. Harry took the coffees and they continued walking.
“That never gets old.” Harry commented as he pulled his scarf tighter. He loved pretending that he wasn’t Harry. No one came up to him while he was trying to eat dinner. No one shook his hand when he nipped into Diagon Alley on errands.
“I never thought he’d take it.” Hermione admitted, still absorbed in their earlier conversation. They stopped to sit on a park bench and watched as a group of Hogwarts students passed by. He remembered when he snuck out to Hogsmeade with Hermione and Ron. The town seemed like a different place now, but he knew it was the same. The only thing that had changed was Harry.
“Well he did and apparently the other healers quite like him.”
“Draco Malfoy.. likable.” Hermione dragged a hand through the air in front of her while she spoke. They both laughed.
In the month he had been at the ministry Malfoy managed to keep his head low and work quietly. Those who were skeptical at his employment couldn’t deny the results of his healing and his reputation gradually became more positive. He worked well with the other healers and they enjoyed the knowledge he brought from his time in France.
Still, when Harry caught glimpses of Draco in passing he thought he looked strained. He wondered where Malfoy was staying and if he was managing to sleep. He didn’t ask, partly because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but mostly because Draco wasn’t speaking to him at all. Harry had never even received the bill for the weekend he had stayed.
“We should get back.” Hermione stood and stretched. They went back to the ministry in silence. Harry had always valued that they could enjoy each other's company without talking.
Work was slow and Harry’s case hadn’t picked up any traction. The only thing he had to go on was his gut and the tiny fear that if he let the case go something bad might happen. When his day ended at the ministry, his day at home started. He stayed up late, pulling bank transactions and combing through every paper he could find.
Morrie was smart. Her school records had shown she did better than most of her class, though she wasn’t the top. She worked briefly in the ministry before her transfer to the incarceration department. All her evaluations said the same thing: she was brilliant but tactless. She didn’t know how to play the ministry political games or play well with others in general.
Harry leaned back his office chair and closed his eyes. What was she doing as a prison guard? She could be doing something in the private sector, making triple her salary. His thoughts flitted here and there. He still hadn’t talked to Draco about it at all. Narcissa’s plea to keep him out of it burned brightly in his mind every time he considered it. Exhausted, he drifted off to sleep.
In the morning Harry awoke with a sharp pain in his neck. He had slept all night with his body crammed awkwardly into the desk chair. With a groan he stood and felt his joints pop back into place.
Kreacher made him a breakfast to go and Harry ate it once he was settled next to Ron in the Auror office. A new box of files had arrived for Harry. It was probably more paperwork that meant nothing. Harry decided he would dig through it tonight and if it didn’t bring him anything new, the case would be closed.
“Potter!” Grimble barked from his office door. Harry unwillingly crossed the room to join him.
“Yes sir?”
“The Malfoy boy is being pushed to get off parole early. They want my assessment.”
“That’s great.”
“What do you think? You’ve been digging around the family.”
“I haven’t found anything that wouldn’t support that decision, sir.” Harry hoped his opinion mattered enough to sway Grimble’s mind.
“Alright, I’ll tell ‘em to push it through.”
“Can I ask a favor, sir?”
“What is it?” Grimble did not like to give Harry favors.
“Can I do his exit interview?” Harry held his breath.
“And save me the paperwork? You bet your ass Potter.” Grimble laughed.
“Thank you.” Harry turned and left the office. He was too excited to return to his desk so he grabbed the box and headed home. He finally had the perfect way to ask Draco his questions and keep his promise to Narcissa.
Harry poured over the box all night. There was nothing out of place except an old post box that her great aunt kept. He thought it was odd that a lady that old would have a post box in a different county than which she lived. He would send someone to stake it out but didn’t feel confident it would yield anything of interest. He went to bed early that night, satisfied that he was closer than ever to dismissing the whole thing.
In the morning Grimble sent word that the early parole release had been approved and Harry could conduct the interview whenever he’d like. Harry read through the forms and sent an owl to Malfoy, requesting his presence at a meeting at the end of the week. Content he laid on the floor and put on a record. The music filled his office.
She said to leave it to me
She said everything will be alright
Harry tried hard to think of nothing but the lyrics but his mind didn’t slow down. Even though they hadn’t spent much time together he missed the irritated voice of his once private physician. Harry felt himself longing that he would burst through the door. At least he could look at his face and day dream while Draco yelled at him.
She’s always out makin pictures
She’s always out makin scenes
When he was in school, and Draco was being a git it was easier to ignore the way he made Harry feel. It was never a secret to those who really knew him, that he fancied both girls and boys. The secret had always been which boy made Harry’s heart beat the loudest. As secret mainly because that boy seemed to be one of the worst and meanest people he had ever met.
It’s all mixed up
It’s all mixed up
It’s all mixed up
It was all mixed up now Harry thought. To like Malfoy and not hate him at the same time was too much. It made it harder for Harry not to dream that nothing would ever happen between them.
“You get paid to do this?” Harry jumped in his skin and opened his eyes to see Draco staring down at him. He was still in his ministry robes and his face was in a fierce scowl.
“I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didn’t knock.” Draco took a seat in one of the chairs and waited for Harry to join him. Harry rose from the floor and did so.
“What’s up?” Harry wondered.
“You said you wanted to meet with me.” Draco was still behaving grumpily.
“On Friday.”
“Well I don’t feel like waiting so just spit it out!”
“What’s eating you?!” Harry was tired of Draco’s mood.
“I don’t understand what you could have to say to me that could possibly be good to hear.” Draco fixed his tie and crossed an ankle across his knee.
“How about ‘you’re being released early from parole’!” Harry took it back, looking at Draco’s face wasn’t worth his attitude.
“What?”
“The ministry was so impressed with your work and behavior that they wanted to release you early. I wanted to meet with you because I’m conducting your exit interview.” Harry stood. “But hey if you don’t want to do that and just want to yell at me then fine. Go ahead, stay on parole.”
“I’m sorry.” The words made Harry freeze. Never before had he heard Draco make an honest apology. Malfoy’s face even looked contrite. Harry got the exit paperwork from his desk and rejoined him.
“I have to ask you some questions.” Harry looked at Draco who nodded.
“Have you ever violated your parole?” He started easy.
“No.”
“Have you ever used a restricted spell while on parole?”
“No.”
“Have you had any contact with other Felon wizards?” Harry held his breath.
“No.”
“Including members of your own family…incarcerated or otherwise..”
“Honestly, doesn't the ministry have record of this?” Malfoy said, annoyed. Harry had hit a nerve.
“I just have to ask.”
“No. I haven’t had any contact with anyone.”
“Does that include-“
“Yes! Including my father!” Draco burst.
“Alright.” Harry felt guilty for upsetting him but with the answers in hand he could write up a report to clear the family of any involvement.
“Sign here.” Harry handed him a paper and pointed to the bottom. Draco signed, then Harry.
“Is that it then?” Draco stood to leave.
“That’s it, I’ll file this and you’ll be off parole by the end of the week.”
“Okay.”
“You want to stay for lunch?” Harry followed Draco down the stairs.
“We’re not friends, Potter.” Malfoy slammed the door behind him. Harry sat down on the step where he stood and stared at the dark wood door.
“Would you care for lunch, Master Harry?” Kreacher asked from the kitchen doorway.
“No thanks, I’m not hungry.” He headed back to his office and sat down at his desk.
Things weren’t so mixed up anymore. Now Harry felt he knew exactly where he stood with Malfoy: nowhere.
That night he went to bed early. His dreams about gray eyes and glinting hair less hopeful than they had been in the past few weeks.
A crash woke him somewhere around midnight. He ran into the hall, wand ready.
“Lumos.” He whispered into the night air. The hallway was empty. He heard Kreacher let out a yell. Harry flew to the stairs and shined his light down them. There, at the bottom was an unconscious Malfoy.
“I didn’t know it was Master Malfoy.” Said Kreacher guiltily as he looked at the man under Harry’s wand light. Kreacher flipped the switch on the wall and the chandelier lit up the foyer. Next to Malfoy was a wooden box.
“Kreacher thought it was an intruder, coming in so late and not knocking. Kreacher wanted to protect…” Kreacher paused. “The house.”
“You did good, Kreacher.” Harry assured him and the house elf looked relieved.
“What spell did you use?”
“Oh,” Keetcher frowned at Harry’s question. “I did not think to use magic.”
“What?” Harry was confused. Kreacher pointed to a heavy cast iron pan in the corner and mimed a swinging motion. The image was just too much to bear and Harry broke out into wild laughter.
“You’re a very good elf.” Harry told Kreacher.
Kneeling down besides Malfoy, Harry could tell he was out cold. There was no spell to reverse so Harry picked him up and carried him to the suite he had once offered to let Draco live in, leaving the box where it was. He set him on the bed gently and dragged the other half of the blanket across him. A nasty welt was forming on his forehead.
Oh well, Harry thought he can heal it himself tomorrow.