Harry stumbled when they landed in the narrow alleyway and Draco caught his wrist before he fell, steadying him.

"Thanks," Harry said breathlessly, his hand pressing over Draco's for a brief moment before they both let go.

"Yes, well," Draco cleared his throat nervously and sniffed, and instantly regretted it, "wouldn't want you to end up smelling like piss would we?"

"Probably against the dress code," Harry said as he headed out towards the street.

Draco chuckled, "Yes, probably."

Harry turned around so abruptly Draco nearly ran into him.

"Yes? Something the matter?" Draco raised an eyebrow in mild annoyance. Eager to get out of the stinking alley, he stepped around Harry and out onto the sidewalk. Overhead the street lights were flickering on with a weak yellow light.

"Are you really Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked following him.

Draco eyebrows rose and he crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

Harry shifted his feet, "You have to admit that you're acting very- very Un-Malfoy like," he leaned forward.

"Then ask me something only I would know," Draco sighed impatiently, "and please be succinct, we have a reservation to keep."

Harry tugged at the bottom of his jacket, his brow furrowing with indecision. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, "In sixth year what were you doing in the bathroom?"

"Ah, the hard questions," Draco felt a knot of tension lodge itself between his shoulders but he straightened his back and answered anyway, "Weeping, in quite a revolting manner. Then I believe we both overreacted quite badly. I tried to crucio you and you nearly killed me. All in all," he said with acid sarcasm, "one of the highlights of my life. Does that satisfy?"

Harry swallowed hard and Draco took the opportunity to straighten his cuffs. He ran his thumbs across his smooth silver cuff links and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly and trying to breathe some of his tension out with the air.

"Yes. Sorry," Harry said, his words sounding strangled, "I never did apologize, I meant to- to apologize, not to hurt you, I didn't even know what the spell did but I used it anyway and- and I am really sorry."

Draco rolled his eyes but felt mildly pleased that Harry even felt the need to apologize at this point. He decided to take his own reparations, reaching out and carefully pushing back a few locks of black hair that had gone wild after their rocky landing. Whatever product Harry had used to tame his ridiculous hair was surprisingly light and only made the thick black strands feel slightly damp as if he had just stepped out of the shower.

"Apology accepted," Draco said, looking from Harry's hair down to his eyes, the green colour muted to a dark jade under the street light. "I find the scars to be quite dashing, actually." He gestured down the sidewalk languidly and started walking down the street towards the restaurant.

Harry followed him, "So it did scar," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets with a guilty look on his face.

"Yes, it did," Draco said wearily, he shook his head slightly and went for a dry joking tone, "You're going to have to be far more charming than this if you want to see them."

Harry glanced over at Draco and ducked his head.

The restaurant was beautiful, with tall, open ceilings and chandeliers that looked like vines wrought from bronze. The main room was filled with booths of dark red leather and large round tables covered in pure white tablecloths. The large room opened into a conservatory of nearly the same size. The walls leading into the conservatory were covered in healthy vibrant green ivy. The conservatory was ringed with wisteria that climbed up the trellised sides and ceilings, blooms of purple and white hanging down over the tables and were lit by strings of fairy lights.

"Do you have reservations?" The dark-eyed young man at the front asked.

"Er, yes, under Harold Evans," Harry said with a stiff smile.

The host nodded, "Harold Evans, two for the conservatory. This way please," he took two menus and gestured for them to follow him through the restaurant and into the fragrant conservatory. They passed tables of couples smiling, holding hands and whispering to one another and were directed to a small round table near the corner of the room.

The host placed a small menu card before each chair as well as a wine list, several pages long, "Your server with be with you shortly," He said with a smile and quickly returned to the front.

"I'm quite impressed," Draco said sliding into the closest black, cushioned chair.

Harry followed suit looking around nervously, "Hermione picked it. If I'm being honest, I'm a bit out of my depth."

Draco ignored that bit of low hanging fruit just begging to be insulted and asked, "Evans?"

"My mum's family name," Harry explained.

"And Harold?" Draco teased.

Harry ducked his chin, "Hermione made the reservations not me, alright?"

"Oh," Draco smiled wryly, "So you wouldn't prefer to be called Harold then?"

"Don't," Harry said with an exasperated smile.

Draco bit his lip and looked down at his hands with his heart in his throat. He wasn't sure if he'd even be able to speak and felt, quite stupidly, that he might die happy after having that smile directed at him. Because it was a smile that seemed like it came from a place in the future, a settled comfortable dismay said over a cup of coffee in a shared kitchen that they-

Draco shook his head and picked up his menu to push his mind away from what Pansy would have called sappy drivel. It was one night. He had to keep reminding himself that, just one date, just one night.

"Hello, I'll be your server tonight," A young woman with light brown hair pulled into a tight bun said as she stopped in front of their table, "Will you be drinking any wine tonight? Or perhaps I can interest you in a cocktail?"

Draco glanced across the table as Harry slumped down in his chair, obscuring his head by holding up the small menu like a shield.

He smiled to himself and glanced over the wine list, "We'll have a bottle of... the Saint Clair sauvignon blanc will do."

She nodded, "And your starters for the evening?"

"Any preference, Harry?" Draco asked.

Harry squirmed slightly in his seat, "No seafood." He looked up at Draco with a faint pleading expression.

Draco smirked and scanned over the menu, "The confit to start for me and... I think the quail for my companion."

"Have you decided on your main course?"

"No, not yet," Draco said.

She slipped away with a nod.

Harry let out a heavy sigh and let the menu drop.

"They don't bite," Draco teased.

"I've never been to a restaurant this fancy before," Harry said without any of the defensiveness Draco would have expected, "Would you- I mean what do you think, for the main courses?" He gestured to the menu.

Draco smiled at Harry before looking back down, "How do you feel about lamb?"

"Good!" Harry said with relief, "Lamb is definitely good."

Draco nodded slightly, "And I think, I shall have the duck," He sat the menu to the side and relaxed back in his chair. The server returned a few minutes later to take their orders and was followed closely behind by the sommelier with their wine. Draco listened politely as the man described their wine and poured a tasting into each glass. Draco watched with amusement as Harry nervously copied what Draco was doing and did his best not to laugh as their glasses were filled and bottle left on their table.

"It's good," Harry said.

Draco nodded as he took a sip, "I thought a younger sweeter wine might be more to your liking."

Harry's brow furrowed slightly, "Is that- Is that an insult?"

"It was not meant to be," Draco responded carefully, "I simply choose a wine I thought you would be comfortable with but I would not find equitable to horse piss."

Harry sputtered a laugh halfway through a sip of wine and nearly upset the glass.

Draco smiled with pleasure.

Harry's smile relaxed, "It's strange, you not insulting me. I suppose it shouldn't bother me as much as it does. That's why I thought you might not be, you."

"Would you rather I insulted you?" Draco raised his eyebrows.

Harry looked bemused, "When you put it that way..."

"I have to admit there were a few times I was sorely tempted," Draco said taking a sip of wine.

"But then why didn't you?" Harry sat forward slight in his chair, his brow creased, "Do you want something from me?"

Draco felt his chest tighten at the implication as Harry went on.

"It seems like everyone wants something from me. I suppose that even includes you now," Some of the light seemed to leave Harry's eyes as he looked away.

Draco tried to explain through the lump of panic growing in his throat, "I only want what I paid for, a dinner with Harry Potter."

Harry's chewed his bottom lip, his hands wringing together in his lap. He still wouldn't look at Draco as he spoke, "I didn't think you went in on the hero of the wizarding world crap. You, of all people, I thought wouldn't-"

"I don't I-" Draco interjected quickly, "I shouldn't have put it that way. I'm not interested in dinner with Harry Potter, I'm interested Potter, who pulled me from the fiendfyre and spoke up at my mother and I's trials." He felt his face getting hot and fixed his gaze firmly on the stem of the wine glass as he twisted it back and forth between his fingers, "The Harry who could have kicked me when I was down but helped me up instead."

"Oh," Harry said faintly.

They sat in silence for several moments. Draco did his best to calm himself down, unwilling to look Harry in the eye when he was liable to flush red as a tomato if he did.

Harry broke the silence, his words quiet, "You helped me by not identifying me at the manor."

Draco smiled sourly, "Hardly such a grand thing. I'm simply a coward, incapable of killing anyone." He finally convinced himself to look up and found Harry studying him with a quiet look to his features. Draco swallowed hard and said as lightly as he could manage, "We should really use a muffling spell if we're going to be so brazen about these things."

Harry jumped a little in surprise, glancing around them. Luckily, of the two tables beside them, one was empty and the other was utterly absorbed in its own conversation. Draco watched as Harry eased the tip of his wand from his sleeve and covered their little table in a wordless muffialito with a tiny succinct movement.

From there, their conversation was further derailed by the arrival of their starters.

Harry regarded his small dish of quail breast and salamis with trepidation, "This is it?"

Draco smothered a smirk, "It's not your average pub fare. If they've done their job well, each bite should be well worth the small size."

Harry glanced from his plate to Draco's, "Yours is even smaller."

Draco carefully cut into the small chargrilled round of aubergine and took a small measured bite, sighing into the complex medley of flavors all cooked to perfection. Truly, Draco felt he never gave muggles enough credit, they were always surprising him. For all their disadvantages, they did so many amazing things.

"Can I try yours?" Harry asked, "You can have a bite of mine as well."

Draco looked down at his plate a carefully created another perfect bite on his fork, with all the little elements in place and held it out to Harry. When Harry reached out to take the fork Draco pulled it back with a smirk, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

Harry gave him a deadpan look, "Really?" but he leaned forward anyway and let Draco guide the fork to his mouth.

Draco watched the various emotions flit across Harry's face, enjoying the intimacy of the moment, hoping maybe his actions had goaded Harry into reciprocating. He felt a wash of pleasure as Harry did just that, awkwardly balancing a bite of quail and mushrooms onto his fork and holding it out with defiant triumph.

Draco leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the fork and making a small sigh of pleasure as he sat back. He never took his eyes off Harry, watching as Harry's lips parted with a sudden intake of breath and his eyelashes fluttering across his cheek. The papers had never reported on Harry Potter having any interest in men but right then Draco could pretend he might, rather than it being embarrassment or shock.

Harry looked down at his plate, taking a hasty bite to give himself something to do.

Draco sat back and ate the quail without really tasting it. Sipping from his wine and watching Harry over the rim of the glass.

As the silence began to stretch in discomfort Draco broke it, saying, "I can't say I've ever seen your hair looking so neat before." He dropped his elbow on the armrest, tipping his wine glass in slow lazy circles so the wine inside swirled around the bottom, "And here you spent all our time in school with it looking like a doxy nest."

"I take it back," Harry said ruefully, "I don't miss your insults."

Draco quirked his eyebrows silently.

"Well..." Harry said, setting his fork down, "I got the idea to start researching my family tree a bit, the Potter side. Fleamont was the most famous since he invented Sleekeazy's Hair Potion so I figured I'd start there," He sighed and finally relaxed enough to sit back in his chair. "It turns out the ministry had a copy of his formula journal archived and let me have a copy of it."

"Acquired some tips, did you?" Draco said, his tone somewhere between teasing and sarcastic.

Harry narrowed his eyes briefly and then went on, "Anyway, I was looking through it and in the margins of one page he had written down a modified hair potion recipe and it was labeled For Potter's Only."

"And you brewed it?" Draco asked.

Harry shot him another glare, apparently interpreting the comment as an insult to his potion brewing skills.

Draco endeavored to look as innocent as possible, which was likely a lost cause.

"No," Harry said shortly. "Hermione helped me."

"And the potion finally tamed your horrendous hair," Draco gestured to Harry absently.

Harry nodded and cleared his throat, hiding a smile behind his hand.

Draco felt himself start to smile and rolled his eyes, "Go on then, tell me why it's for Potter's Only."

Harry grinned, "Well if anyone else uses it, their hair turns purple-"

"Purple?" Draco echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"-and smells strongly of anise. When Luna tried it she also sprouted clover flowers so we think maybe it has strange effects on blonds, or it might just be Luna. No other blonds wanted to try it after that."

"Shocking." Draco said flatly, trying to smother a grin, "Can't fathom why."

Harry shook his head with a rueful laugh, "Want to be a test subject? You would look great with purple hair."

"I always look stunning," Draco smirked.

"Yeah," Potter murmured into his wine glass; so softly, Draco couldn't trust his ears in what they heard.

Draco swallowed hard, feeling himself start to flush and stared determinedly at his plate, taking smaller and smaller bites in an effort to keep his hands busy, until there was nothing left and he was forced to set his fork aside and sit back. He refilled and reclaimed his wine glass as the next best defense.

"So about that smelling dark magic thing," Harry said, "Can you smell any other kinds?"

Draco shook his head, "No, though when I say dark magic, more specifically, I can smell any kind of... violent, might be a better word, magic. For example, I can smell blasting spells like confringo as well. Violent magic used upon an object smells more earthy and when it's used on a person it's more metallic." He wrinkled his nose in recollection.

"I've never heard of someone being able to smell magic," Harry said.

Their conversation paused as the server removed their dishes and then quickly retreated.

Draco scoffed, "It's not exactly like being a Metamorphmagus is it? My family has never really made the ability known, mine especially. Father was very displeased." He refilled his glass and topped up Harry's absently, "I was especially sensitive to the smell when I was young. Just stepping inside certain rooms in the manor made me retch."

Harry traced the edge of his wine glass distractedly, "Is it rare? Does anyone else in your family have it?"

"Rare?" Draco's eyebrows quirked up in thought, "Hard to say since it was never documented in family records. My father doesn't have it, unless he simply never told anyone. My grandfather Abraxas could smell charms. Apparently, they smelled fruity, to him at least. He told me once that his aunt could smell an animagus from a mile off." He sighed, "I've taken to calling it Odoranturmagus, to amuse myself."

Harry smiled suddenly as if it were pulled from him without warning, "To amuse yourself," he echoed quietly.

"One has to keep busy," Draco said dryly.

Harry nodded, his smile softening into something gentle.

Their main courses arrived and they both focused on the meal which was really too good not to. Draco reserved a bite on the side of his plate and offered it with a wordless gesture. Harry scooped up the bite of duck and replaced it with a slice of lamb. Draco glanced up to share a warm look with Harry that felt unbelievably comfortable.

"What have you been doing? For work. I mean, if you have to work at all." Harry said as he cut through the tender lamb.

"I would not have necessarily needed to work, no." Draco picked up his glass and sipped it absently, "The Malfoy's were stripped of all their property holdings except the Manor lands and half our liquid assets in war reparations. Mother and I could have lived off the rest, with care."

"So you are working?" Harry asked, "It's hard to imagine you with a job."

Draco narrowed his eyes and nudged Harry's leg sharply under the table, making him jump in surprise.

"As I was saying," Draco sniffed, "with Father in Azkaban for ten years it fell to me to take care of-" he huffed faintly, "-everything, really." He frowned slightly and took a bite to give himself time to organize his thoughts. "Just the Manor requires a lot of work. The lands ringed by the fence are a small fraction of the whole grounds. Much of the surrounding farmland is a part of the manor property, leased to farmers for centuries now. And only liquid assets were seized, all our investment funds and business partnerships needed managing. It was a case of learning while leaping."

"Not just lying around eating grapes on long fancy couches?" Harry joked.

Draco curled his lip, "I'm not overly fond of grapes."

"Apples then," Harry corrected.

Draco cocked a smile, "I'm flattered. I wasn't aware you knew."

Harry glanced away, looking flustered, "We spent a lot of time at school harassing one another. You probably know my favorite too."

"Treacle tarts," Draco said embarrassingly fast, "Unless it's changed since then."

"No. That's right," Harry shifted in his chair, biting his bottom lip absently.

Before he could get absorbed in staring at Harry's mouth, Draco continued, "I've improved enough in that last few years to make a few investments of my own. One I'm particularly excited about is a new experimental potions lab, called Panacea, that came up with a new wolfsbane potion."

Harry leaned forward in his chair with interest.

Draco wrapped his smile around the edge of his wine glass as he took a sip. "Without my funding, best case scenario they would sell the potion at such a high price few could have afforded it, especially not those who needed it most. Worst case scenario they would have folded entirely. I gave them the money they needed, provided the stipulation that they kept their prices at the bare minimum profit margin. There was some protest on that part," Draco said with disdain. "But low profits are not an issue when it comes to a stable customer base. It will take a lot longer to recoup losses but it's-" he hesitated, "-the right thing to do."

He was almost afraid to see Harry's expression. The last time he had said something like that, about trying to do the right thing, the man had laughed right in his face. It had been an auror. They still checked up on him twice a year like they were just waiting for him to slip into old habits. As if he had ever had the nerve to do anything more than follow orders, and badly at that.

"It's- good. Yeah. I've never thought about..." Harry's brow furrowed, "I do a lot of fundraising and charity work, and the auror stuff of course, but I've never thought about helping people like that."

"There are a lot of opportunities if you know where to look," Draco said.

Harry picked up his wine glass and took far too big a swallow. Draco wondered how he could even taste it like that.

"What's the new potion do? I know wolfsbane potion makes it so a werewolf doesn't lose it's human mind when it transforms," Harry said.

Draco started to answer and then paused until the server took their plates away. "It has the same effect. It's simply easier and cheaper to brew than the old one, requires less per dose and can be brewed up to two weeks ahead of time without the risk of spoiling." He tapped the side of his glass absently, "The original potion's main component is wolfsbane which is quite toxic even to non-werewolves thus it can only be brewed with the utmost care. Too much and you make a poison, too little and you simply have a sick angry werewolf. The new potion replaces most of the wolfsbane with a measured amount of colloidal silver. Muggles make the stuff and sell it as some sort of cure-all sham but it's actually quite fantastic for brewing. It's very stable.

"Panacea's main focus is exploring muggle substances like colloidal silver and seeing if they can be used in potions. Turmeric is showing a lot of promise as a component to healing potions."

"Wow," Harry said quietly.

"I do need to convince them to set up a separate apothecary branch to their lab. Splitting their attention between brewing and experimentation is ruining the efficiency and potential of both," Draco said absently.

"If you needed another investor-?" Harry said tentatively, "I mean, if I'm going to start somewhere that seems as good a place as any."

Draco blinked in surprise, "You want to invest in Panacea?"

"They sound like they're doing good work," Harry said with growing confidence, "I mean, Hermione's been working to repeal the werewolf legislation for years and hardly got anywhere with it. This new potion will actually help them right now. I don't know anything about investing but-"

"I could give you advice-?" Draco offered trying not to sound desperate but knowing his words came out too rushed.

"That'd be great," Harry said with an easy smile that made Draco's heart race.

He knew it was stupid to get his hopes up but even seeing Harry on a professional basis was more than he had ever dared to expect from this evening. Pansy would be furious.

Their server stopped in front of their table with a new small menu, "Would you care to order a dessert this evening?" she asked.

Draco took the menu, scanning down the selections with interest. He looked at Harry who shrugged. "All of them," Draco said looking up from the card.

"All of them?!" Harry choked through a laugh.

"Fine," he sighed in dismay, "Just the strawberry and mascarpone millefeuille, vanilla cream cheese mousse, and the milk chocolate and hazelnut panna cotta."

Harry laughed outright, "That's everything but the cheese plate and the sorbet!"

Draco had no interest in budging on the matter. He handed the menu back with a polite smile, "Those three will be fine, thank you."

The server nodded and hurriedly turned away, hiding a grin behind the collected menus.