Draco hurried back inside his apartment, kicking off his shoes and leaving the door open for Harry.

Harry stepped just inside, easing the door shut behind himself. He aimed a careful cleaning spell at his boots before following Draco. The wide plank floors were scattered with rugs that seemed to follow paths rather and aesthetic so someone who didn't want to put their feet on a cold floor wouldn't have to.

Draco was in a small kitchen, there were already a few mugs scattered across the counter, and Draco quickly charmed them into the sink with one hand, pulling open a cupboard with the other. He took out two large white mugs, setting them down, hesitating and then opening the cupboard again and picking up a smaller teacup from inside, glancing between it and the mug.

"The mug's fine," Harry said.

"No, I was-" Draco put the teacup back, slamming the cupboard so hurriedly he nearly caught his fingers, "....thinking." He hurriedly flicked his wand at the kettle, filling it with water and casting another charm to heat the water. He was wearing another jumper, a peachy sort of colour that was far too big for him, the sleeves trying to fall over his hands as he worked so sometimes only his wand stuck out, the bottom of the jumper hung half-way down to his thighs.

Draco had hardly finished casting when he hurried past Harry, distracting him from his starring, and started throwing cleaning charms around, a spell to make his rumpled bed in the corner of the room and to fold the large fluffy blankets that were scattered across everything.

Harry turned to watch in bemusement, mostly to see the things that Draco missed in his rush to tidy, like the multiple pairs of slippers and fluffy socks peeking out from under the furniture and the sheer number of books piled on every surface. He had three bookcases lining the inside wall, already very full, with books stacked in front of the shelved volumes and piled precariously on top.

"I see..." Harry said to himself.

"What?" Draco spun around, nerves tensing to fall into hostility, "I see what?"

"Oh, err, Esther said you didn't go out much so I wondered how you kept busy," Harry said, gesturing to the books offhandedly.

"I like reading," Draco said defensively.

Harry nodded, "It's pretty impressive."

Draco frowned at him.

"I'm friends with Hermione aren't I?" Harry said, "I wish I liked reading even half as much as her. Or you."

Draco glanced away tucking his hair behind his ear, "It's just reading."

The kettle whistled, and Draco was once again rushing past Harry and pulling open cupboards again.

"What sort of tea do you like? I have earl grey, darjeeling, assam-"

"Yorkshire?" Harry said.

Draco shot him a look that made him feel entirely too common in the face of all the other fancier teas, but it was quickly replaced with a thrill of delight when Draco took down a box of Yorkshire Gold and put a teabag in each cup.

"Fancy," Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes, filling one mug. "Do you take milk?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Draco nodded and filled the other mug, leaving space at the top. He put the kettle back and turned back around, leaning back against the counter, "What do you do with your free time then? Let me guess... quidditch. Pub nights. Definitely magazines."

Harry laughed, "Yeah a few magazines. The other two, not so much. Sometimes enough Weasleys will be over at the Burrow for a quick game but," he shrugged, "Doesn't happen often."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I have a telly and work," Harry said.

"What about Granger and Weasley, you lot were always attached at the hip."

Harry shuffled his feet, "Hermione and Ron have been in Australia with her parents for the last year. Hermione's parents had some... health problems. They've come back to visit a few times and they floo call sometimes but, yeah."

"Oh," Draco said. He opened his chill box and took out the milk, "Do you want sugar?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, milky and sweet please."

He expected to be teased for that, Ron always did, but Draco made his own tea the same way.

"Quit lurking about," Draco said, with a tone that almost could have been teasing.

Harry glanced around for somewhere to be more relaxed and less standing in the middle of the floor, Draco just rolled his eyes and passed him a hot mug of tea, waving for Harry to follow him.

There was a large couch and matching armchair in the centre of the room, Draco sat in the armchair, and Harry sat on the edge of the couch, or tried. It sank far more then he was expecting so he had to sit back, trying to keep his tea from spilling.

Draco grinned as he pulled his feet up onto his chair, he was pushed back in the corner and quite happy to be devoured by the too soft cushions.

"Are these cushions made of pudding?" Harry said a little breathlessly, trying to slide further back without falling over, "I think your couch is trying to eat me."

Draco laughed a small amused chuckle that filled Harry's stomach with butterflies.

Harry wished he could set his mug down, but the side table was filled with books. So he held his mug in both hands, nursing the sweet milky tea. "What are you reading now?" Harry asked.

"I doubt you'd be interested," Draco said.

"Well, you'd have to tell me first," Harry said.

Draco hesitated, "Don't you have to get back to work?"

Harry shrugged, "I have time."

Draco lifted his mug to obscure his smile, "It's called Jane Eyre-"

.

.

Harry underlined a section of his ARM book (Auror Regulations Manual) in pencil and added the definitions to his notebook.

"Took your sweet time," Auror Patterson said.

Harry looked up, "I just got back from lunch, sir."

"Any problems with Malfoy?"

Harry looked around for Draco's file, tugging it out from under his ARM book, "No-"

"Good," Patterson turned away.

"Wait. Sir," Harry said hurriedly, rising from his chair, "I wanted to speak with you about Draco Malfoy's file."

"I thought you said no problems, Potter," Patterson growled in annoyance as he stomped back to Harry's cubical.

"Not with Malfoy," Harry said, speaking quickly, "After his trial in July, he hasn't done anything other than missing an appointment with his parole officer. Since then he's been falsely accused seven times, of that three of the accusations are from one person, all unsubstantiated."

"Well?" Patterson prompted.

Harry stood a little straighter, "None of them were so much as reprimanded. Some of these accusations resulted in Malfoy being detained and interrogated with veritasium. The accusers should have been charged with Wasting Auror Time, Wizarding Law Act 1985. The repeat offender should have been charged with Perverting the Course of Justice for blatant show of malice. Am I wrong?"

Auror Patterson frowned, and held out his hand, "File."

Harry handed it over.

Patterson scratching his bristly unshaven chin as took his time reading through the file, the frown never leaving his face. He closed the file with a grunt, "...Merlin's fucking saggy bollocks..."

"Sir?"

"Veritasium on level one spell misuse? And interrogation, what a waste of time..." Patterson shook his head.

Harry held his breath.

Patterson tapped the file on the wall of Harry's cubicle, "Good work bringing this to my attention, Potter. I'll get this sorted out."

Harry couldn't help grinning, "Thank you, sir."

Patterson paused, looking back at his own desk, "This sort of thing," he cleared his throat, "It's a good effort, a sort of- a right sort of direction. Keep at it."

" Yes, sir. I will, sir," Harry said, feeling optimistic that maybe his days of only paperwork and running errands were at their end.

.

.

A few days later Patterson was back at Harry's desk, with a new report in hand, "Potter, I have a noise complaint, seems like it might be Malfoy again."

Harry took the complaint form from Patterson.

"You're the only one I know will follow procedure when it comes to Malfoy," Patterson said.

Harry nodded.

"You and Malfoy were at each other's throats all through school?" Patterson asked.

Harry frowned in confusion, "Yeah, but he hasn't done anything since then. Is this important, sir?"

"I asked around a bit to get a better feel for you, Potter. Heard a lot of crazy stories, but you and Malfoy impressed me. It's not easy to avoid personal bias as an auror. Wish it were. I try to drill it in these numskulls they've got to leave their opinions at home but-" Patterson sighed heavily and shook his head.

"I do my best, sir." Harry stood and gathered his auror jacket, "I'll be off then."

Paterson straightened and clapped his hand against the cubical wall, "See to it, Potter."

Harry knew he'd be facing the stairs of Draco's building, but he took the stairs at the Ministry anyway. He was going to get back into shape if it killed him and by the time he reached Draco's door he thought it might just. Harry leaned on the railing, catching his breath and trying to make out the music he could hear through the door. It was loud but not loud enough to bother anyone except perhaps the tenant below, who had owled in the complaint.

Harry went to knock on the door and stopped when the door clicked softly and slowly swung open on its own weight.

Draco was sitting on a chaise against the far wall. His arms were propped on the open window sill, a sweet spring breeze brushing through his hair and the white gossamer curtains, his eyes closed as if leaning into the wind's embrace.

Harry's heart squeezed in his chest, and he held his breath.

He really liked him.