Harry watched the bloke fumble through the stack of trays on his desk. Eventually, he found the right form and set it in front of himself. Overhead a faulty lumos spell occasionally flickered, shifting the shadows on the stone walls that, unlike the rest of the Ministry had no windows, false or otherwise.

The desk auror patted around his desk for a quill, flipping up the mess of parchment in search of an elusive pen.

"I swear if Brewster stole my quill again," The desk auror muttered, "You do a nice thing, lend 'em out for the signing, and they just walk away with 'em. Do I look like I'm made of quills?"

Harry fought down a yawn. Next to him, the two newest junior aurors were holding onto either side of the suspect, both standing impossible straight and trying very hard to look like they'd done this before. Harry had done it about a hundred times before and it was always entirely boring.

The desk auror opened drawer after drawer until finally pulling out a bedraggeled looking quill, "Got ya!"

He slid the form in front of Harry.

Harry didn't ask for the quill, he had concerns about what it had been through, instead pulling out the fancy fountain pen Hermione had given him when he had been promoted to regular Auror.

"I, Auror Harry Potter, do transfer this suspect to the custody of Auror..." Harry glanced at the name plaque sitting on the desk, "Smith." He signed his name and pushed the parchment back to Smithson.

"Right you are, and I Auror Henry Smith, accept the suspect into the custody of the Ministry cells until such time as his trial or bail," Smith said, signing the form with an well practised extravagant flourish.

Smith grabbed a heavy wooden stamper, the rubber greying and faintly cracked with age, smacked it into a very sad looking ink pad and then thumped it onto the form. All formality seen to, the form folded itself up into a paper aeroplane and sailed off to the filing department.

Harry turned to his charges, the juniors straightening up even further so they were in real danger of italicising themselves. The suspect was wobbling slightly, still off-kilter from the effects of a stunning spell administered when he wouldn't stop trying to bite the arresting auror, that being Harry, who rather wished he wasn't at the time.

"Alright, you two help Auror Smith take the suspect to his new home for the time being," Harry said.

"Sir! Uh, should we re-join you at the scene after we've- we've delivered him?" The brown-haired Junior asked. Harry thought her name might have started with K... but he wasn't willing to risk a guess. He had no idea about the other one. Harry would just keep avoiding calling them anything until he heard someone use their names. It had worked so far with most of his other fellow aurors, in that he found he hadn't really ever needed to use their names enough to learn them.

"No. Return to the office, and make sure you drop off your reports to Auror Shunter before the end of the day, or you'll never hear the end of it."

"Yes, sir, Mr Potter sir!" The junior said, looking about ready to salute him. Sometimes the muggleborns got it into their heads they ought to. This junior, thankfully, managed to hold back.

Harry gave him a polite, tight-lipped smile and a nod, leaving them to the waiting Smith and headed back to the apparition point.

-

-

Harry tapping the auror badge affixed to his robes with his wand as he walked, turning the maroon half-robe into a London bobby uniform with the black vest and the stupid cap. He loathed the cap with every fibre of his being.

He apparated back to the scene of the incident, sheathing his wand and stepping out of the temporarily warded alleyway. Senior Auror Shunter was waiting in front of the shop where the incident occurred. It was a small narrow shop on a narrow street filled with other small business. The window of the place declared it Dickson's Gold and Jewellery Exchange. The road itself was eerily quiet, the quick placements of muggle repelling charms and what looked like a swarm of police had convinced most of the other people working on the street to take the rest of the day off.

Two other junior aurors left as Harry approached, giving him a nod in acknowledgement as they passed, leaving only him and Auror Shunter.

"Auror Shunter, sir, suspect delivered to the holding cells for further questioning," Harry said, stopping next to her on the pavement.

Senior Auror Shunter was one of the most senior of the senior aurors. Her hair, always pulled back into a simple, no-nonsense bun, was streaked with grey and her face was starting to wrinkle, but she radiated the same kind of youthful vitality that a fifteen-year-old bloke does right before he puts his fist through a wall. Harry had never actually seen Shunter lose her temper. He didn't want to. He had a feeling it was the sort of thing you'd regret, a great deal.

Junior aurors were often passed around to whichever auror needed the most assistance, and Harry had ended up working under her quite a bit. He had been impatient with her at first, but he had come to admire her work. Shunter wasn't flashy or impulsive. She always went into a situation with a cool head, and because of that, she resolved things with less destruction and less death and injury on both sides. Rumour was she never fudged evidence or lied either unlike one or two other senior aurors.

Harry was sure she would make an amazing Head Auror when Robards retired. He couldn't think of anyone better suited for it.

Shunter sighed at him, "Took you long enough."

"Desk Auror couldn't find his quill," Harry said.

"All aurors should carry a pen or ever-inking quill on their person at all times for taking statements and notes," Shunter said more like a reflex than with any actual thinking involved.

"Yes, sir, I have my pen," Harry said, patting his pocket.

Shunter raised an eyebrow, "Then why didn't you lend it and get back here sooner?"

"Sorry, sir, I still wanted to have my pen afterwards," Harry said, "The man accounts for half the department's quill allowances."

Shunter nodded, "Point made, unofficially."

"Right," Harry said.

"I'd wonder how Smith keeps his job, but he does a stellar job holding that desk down," Shunter said.

Harry frowned in confusion.

"It's hard to find a good desk jockey in the auror's, we typically don't join up for the paperwork," Shunter said, "Course it's easier now with that new interdepartmental transfer program."

Harry nodded, "Orders, sir?"

"Got most of it wrapped up," Shunter said looking over her shoulder at the shop, "Damage repaired, statements taken, suspect secured, all that's left is waiting for the memory boys."

Harry grimaced, "That's where I come in."

Shunter nodded with a tired grin, "I like a quick auror, Potter. It's no wonder they ranked you so fast."

Harry blinked, "Ranked me so-?"

"Oh, That's right," Shunter said distractedly, "They're going to be sending the new department. From now on Obliviators are only to be sent for in cases of large scale magical misuse when there's a large exposure."

"Why?" Harry asked.

Shunter shrugged, "New policy, just got the memo. I'll read up on all the changes when I'm off."

"You read up on the new laws and policies during your time off?" Harry asked.

"Right before bed, nothing better for falling sleep than dull ministry stuff. I sleep like a baby," Shunter said with a wry grin. She looked at her watch with a frown, "Bugger. Alright, Potter, you're in charge of the scene. Our shopkeep is taking a nap behind the counter. Once the new department shows, you can get their paperwork, add it to ours and take down the wards. Got all that?" Shunter said, rolling her shoulders with new energy now that she was no longer the one who'd be babysitting an empty street.

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Send for backup if there are any issues, though I can't imagine it, and get your paperwork in by the end of the day," Shunter said and turned on her heel, hurrying to the alley.

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

It occurred to Harry far too late that he probably should have asked what the new department's name was or who was in it, or even, perhaps, what they did.

-

-

Once Shunter had apparated back to the ministry, Harry checked the wards along the perimeter before pulling a wad of blank mission report forms out of his pocket. He found the right one and shoved the rest back, holding the paper up against the window as he pulled the lid off his fountain pen with his teeth and quickly began filling it out.

Harry heard the car long before he realised it was coming up the street. It came up far too fast, and the tires squealed against the pavement as it slammed to a stop. Harry didn't know much about cars, but he could tell this one reeked of money. It was a white two-seat convertible and looked like the sort of car you saw in magazines, not on the road.

The door swung open, and a man in a white suit stepped out, straightening his jacket and impeccable tie. He was tall and lean and had a dark blue shirt and black tie under the pure white of the suit jacket. He pulled off a pair of sunglasses, slipping them into his pocket, as the sun glinted off his white-blond head and he gave Harry a perfectly calculated smirk.

The pen cap went loose in Harry's mouth, almost falling to the ground before he managed to clumsily catch it out of the air.

"Auror Potter. Of course," Draco Malfoy said with a sigh of exasperation, "I should have expected you. I have that sort of luck after all."

"Malfoy...?" Harry said.

"As opposed to?" Malfoy said, closing the door to his car and leaning his hip against it.

"Anyone else?" Harry said dumbfounded, "You're the- the new department?"

"I am," Malfoy said. He pulled a small notebook out of his breast pocket, "I might as well enjoy this while I can, I suppose."

"Enjoy-? Have you- Do you know what you're doing?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"No," Malfoy said flatly. He flipped open the notebook, "According to the briefing I received this was a single muggle exposure, correct?"

"I-yeah," Harry said.

"What happened?" Malfoy said

"I thought your wand was destroyed," Harry said.

Malfoy blinked. "Not quite," he said blandly, "I am not allowed to remove my wand or use it outside the wards of my home."

"Which isn't here," Harry said.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, almost looking amused with him, "No. I do not, in fact, live in the middle of the street, Auror Potter."

"Which means you can't use magic," Harry said.

"Yes? Is there a point to this? I am here to work you know," Malfoy said, sounding faintly amused.

Harry gestured back to the shop, "You can't obliviate someone without a wand."

"I'm not here to obliviate anyone," Malfoy said with the same sort of tone someone would say obviously.

"Then why are you here?" Harry said, suspicion mixing with impatience.

"If you'll assist me rather than interrogate me, I can show you," Malfoy said. He pushed himself away from the car with an unfair amount of grace.

"I don't see how you can do anything useful right now," Harry said.

Malfoy's smile grew, "Ah, you sound like father. Delightful."

Harry stared, taken aback.

Malfoy just chuckled and headed into the shop.

The bell over the door of Dickson's Gold and Jewellery Exchange clunked loudly, sounding more like a cowbell than a shop bell as Malfoy disappeared into the gloom.

Harry rushed after him, shoving his pen and paperwork back into his pocket. He wasn't going to let Malfoy just- leave without him.

Malfoy was looking at the glass case that ran along the length of the narrow shop. The glass was smudged with fingerprints, and the brass edge of the case was dull, inside the jewellery was mismatched and old-fashioned.

"Let me guess, someone tried to pawn some cursed jewellery?" Malfoy said.

Harry shook his head before he remembered he was supposed to be the one asking questions.

"No?...hmm," Malfoy said thoughtfully, "Robbery by wand point?"

"What? No," Harry said.

Malfoy shook his head, "Well... how about, they tried to buy something with galleons instead of pounds."

Harry didn't answer, but Malfoy smiled triumphantly anyway, "Ah! I'm on the right track-"

"I didn't say anything," Harry said, trying not to sound indignant.

Malfoy waved him off, tapping a finger against his lips in thought as he turned on his heel looking for more clues.

Harry sighed, "Malfoy, what are you-"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Are you always this boring?"

"What?" Harry frowned, "No, I- that's not the point-"

"Am I carrying a wand or a weapon?" Malfoy asked, holding his arms out.

Harry hesitated.

"Go on, check. You're being a nuisance. Check," Malfoy said.

Harry drew his wand and tried accioing Malfoy's wand, then accioed for knives, guns and, when absolutely nothing happened, tried weapons in general. There was a rattle as a baseball bat flew out from behind the counter. Malfoy just manged to duck as it sailed over where his head had been, and Harry grabbed it out of the air.

"Are you satisfied?" Malfoy asked as he stood and once again straightened his suit, looking annoyed even though Harry was certain Malfoy was the type to have had it absolutely covered it in charms so it never stained or wrinkled.

"No," Harry said setting the bat in the corner.

"Well, now you're just being irrational," Malfoy said.

He wasn't. Harry knew he wasn't. There was just no possible way Malfoy was some sort of not-obliviator and Harry hadn't seen him at the Ministry before. Or heard a rumour about him. Or Ron- Hermione definitely would have heard about Malfoy. There was no way Malfoy would be working at the Ministry, and Harry wouldn't have learned about it.

"Gold... Gold exchange! Was someone trying to sell gold here? But it would have to have magic involved, or the auror's wouldn't be here," Malfoy said, back to guessing. "A gold cauldron? No... galleons are involved-" his eyes widened, "No. They didn't try to sell galleons?"

Harry reluctantly nodded.

"Aren't they absolutely drenched in protective spells?" Malfoy said.

Harry nodded again.

"Why?" Malfoy said in dismay.

"The value of gold is higher than the value of a galleon right now," Harry said.

"Unless the difference is significant, the margin of profit wouldn't be worth the effort."

"Yeah, I don't think the suspect thought that far ahead," Harry said and then cleared his throat, "That's just speculation. Off the record speculation."

"Speculate all you like, I won't tell anyone, and you can rest assured no one would believe me if I did," Malfoy said.

Harry was pretty sure no one should have ever listened to Malfoy, but that hadn't stopped the Prophet from reporting the things Malfoy had told them in the past. Even now, they could call him an anonymous source, the paper was brimming with anonymous sources full of shite and photos taken entirely out of context.

"I'm surprised you have a suspect," Malfoy said, "it seems to me you would just sell the coins and move on."

"Muggles test the quality of gold with a drop of some sort of acid," Harry said.

Malfoy's eyebrows rose, "Ah. That would certainly activate the coins protective charms"

Harry watched Malfoy look around again, and realised that he was probably looking for the owner, Mr Dickson.

"He's behind the counter," Harry said.

Malfoy leaned over the counter to have a look, "So he is."

"You said you didn't know what you were doing and you don't have a wand, so why should I trust you to- to do anything?" Harry asked, standing in the doorway.

"It's my first..." Malfoy looked uncertain for the first time since he had arrived, "case? Is that what you'd call it, a case?"

"Yeah?"

"-So I have an idea of what I'm doing but no certainties." Malfoy went on, "I'm not going to lie to you, you're unhinged enough as it is without me adding to it."

"I'm not unhinged," Harry said, offended. Malfoy was the weird one here with his ridiculous suit and car and not even knowing what a case was.

"I haven't the faintest idea about trust. I'd probably need a time-turner to fix that." Malfoy said and sighed, "I know I'm supposed to fail, but I thought I'd be allowed to try."

"Supposed to fail?" Harry said.

"At least I'll have the suit, so it's not a complete waste," Malfoy said to himself, brushing an invisible speck of dust off the pristine white fabric.

"It's- Well..."Harry felt himself relenting and felt annoyed. "Fine. But I'll be watching you. If you try anything I'll-"

"Arrest me like the big scary auror you are," Malfoy finished sing-song mockingly.

Harry glared at him, but Malfoy was unmoved. Harry took his wand out and went to the counter, leaning over and aiming at the unconscious shopkeeper laying on the grimy carpet, "Enervate."

"Excellent," Malfoy said, looking chipper again, "Go stand by the door and try to look intimidating, would you?"

Harry was plenty intimidating, and he would have told Malfoy that but the eponymous Dickson was getting up so it would have to wait. He stood in front of the door again, keeping a close watch on Malfoy.

Malfoy's stood straighter, his shoulders rising with his chin. If Harry didn't know what a prat Malfoy was, he might have found him imposing, but only a bit.

"Wha-?" Mr Dickson groaned, pushing himself up with the counter. He was balding quite extensively on the top of his head, the long combed over hair he had tried to hide the bald patch was sticking straight up in the air, gently waving in the air when he moved like seaweed in an ocean current.

"Mr Dickson?" Malfoy asked.

"I- yeah-" Mr Dickson muttered, "What happened? There was a weird bloke in a bathrobe and then-"

"I'm pleased to see you up on your own feet, I can call an ambulance for you if you require further medical assistance," Malfoy said coolly.

"I don't need an ambulance. What the hell happened?" Mr Dickson demanded, rubbing his temple.

"I'm afraid there was a rather large gas leak," Malfoy said.

"A what?" Mr Dickson snapped, glaring up at Malfoy.

Malfoy didn't waver, "A gas leak. The gentleman who came to your shop had a bad reaction and lashed out at you-"

"Because of... a gas leak," Mr Dickson said suspicion lacing his voice.

"You needn't worry about him, he's in the holding of appropriate authorities. However, if you hit your head, I must strongly recommend you seek medical care," Malfoy said.

"I don't need a bloody ambulance!" Mr Dickson said, smacking his hand against the counter. He narrowed his eyes, "You got identification?"

That little faint smile of Malfoy's showed up again, "That won't be necessary, Mr Dickson."

Mr Dickson's glare narrowed into a squint, "I've heard of you government types, you won't trick me. He was probably barmy, escaped from one of your special hospitals," he tapped the side of his head, "Tryin' to cover it up, aren't you, tryin' to pretend it didn't happen."

"Delusions can be a sign of head injury," Malfoy said.

"It ain't a delusion, and you can't make me go to the hospital!" Mr Dickson said.

Malfoy tilted his head slightly, and there was something almost sinister about the look on his face, "If I suspected you might in danger of death or hurting yourself or someone else I would be obligated to make sure no harm came to you. Mr Dickson."

Mr Dickson stiffened and almost imperceptibly leaned back, his mouth pressing into a thin line, "...'m fine."

"Are you sure?" Malfoy asked again, and somehow the repeated question had gone from annoying to having the hint of threat.

"Never felt better," Mr Dickson frowned, his words a mutter, "Just a gas leak, fellow was taken care of, everything's fine."

Malfoy smiled, "I'm glad to hear it."

"Yeah, right," Mr Dickson said sourly, and waved for Malfoy to go away, "...I'm just gonna close up for the day. If that's all."

"It is," Malfoy's smile grew, looking very much like a cat that has just pushed something off a table and was incredibly pleased with itself, "Good day, Mr Dickson."

Malfoy turned on his heel, and Harry opened the door, letting Malfoy go through first. Harry could hear Mr Dickson mutter "I know what you're up to, you aren't going to fool me," under his breath as they stepped outside. He firmly closed the door, and almost immediately there was a loud thunk and rattle as what sounded like several locks were engaged behind them.

-

-

Harry blinked in the bright outside light, "What was that?"

"A job well done." Malfoy said with his pleased little smile, "Don't you think it went well?"

"All you did was tell him it was a gas leak, I could have done that!" Harry said.

Malfoy turned around so suddenly Harry nearly ran into him. Malfoy leaned close, "First you'd have to convince them you work for the government, not for a costume shop that ran out of police uniforms in your size," he flicked the brim of Harry's cap which slid back off his forehead.

"Don't-!"

Malfoy looked down, his finger following his eyes and curling around the edge of his black police vest, "This isn't bad," he tugged on the thick fabric with a faint smirk. "But that hat just does not suit at all."

Harry blinked rapidly, stepping back from Malfoy and nearly running into the shop door. "Nothing's wrong with the hat," he snapped, ignoring the fact that he hated the hat himself. He wiped his cheek on his shoulder, feeling unexpectedly warm.

Malfoy was laughing, but it was... weird, although Harry couldn't place why. It wasn't a laugh he had ever heard from Malfoy, and for some reason, it made him uncomfortable.

"It's not funny," Harry said.

"Isn't it? I find this whole thing is hilarious," Malfoy said.

Harry bristled, "It's not funny."

Malfoy sighed, his smiled fading. He turned away, pulling his sunglasses out of his breast pocket and opening them with the flick of his wrist. "You really are quite boring," he said as he put them on.

Harry's automatic retort didn't come out like he expected, seeing as it didn't come out at all. Malfoy putting on his glasses, something about it had made him feel profoundly uncertain. Everything was a bit off, and Harry just kept feeling more and more off balance.

"I wasn't laughing at you, obviously," Malfoy said, "I was amused at the situation. I was more laughing at myself than anything."

"What? Why?" Harry asked, genuinely confused.

"Why not?" Malfoy said. He turned away from Harry, looking up the street, "My life is a joke. People have been laughing at it for years, being good didn't stop them, being angry only made it worse. I might as well have a laugh myself. It really is quite funny when I look at it from an outside perspective."

Malfoy turned on his heel and walked over to his car, hand catching the door handle and pausing, "Strange isn't it that my laughing at it seems to make them all so mad." The door swung open, the car dipping for a second as Malfoy sat heavily.

It struck Harry that Malfoy was going to leave.

"Wait-!" Harry called, hurrying over to the edge of the pavement.

Malfoy took his hand off the key in the ignition, "Yes? Is there something else?" he said blandly.

"Uh, err..." Harry thought furiously, "Oh! Paperwork! I need um, the obliviators would fill out form AD 45-O. The case can't be closed out without it."

"And where would I find such a form?" Malfoy asked.

"Right, you wouldn't have your own form yet," Harry said, instead of the answer, which was Auror department main reception because, well... Malfoy couldn't leave yet. There was so much Harry didn't understand.

He patted his pockets and pulled out the folded stack of forms he always kept on him, "I think I have that one..."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes the obliviators would forget," Harry said defensively, "It's more efficient this way."

Harry couldn't read Malfoy's expression with the sunglasses, but the eyebrow had stayed up, so Harry gave him a surly frown.

He found the right page, charmed the creases out and cast a duplication spell, handing Malfoy a crisp new form.

Malfoy glanced over the page and then looked around his middle console, then opened the glovebox- He was looking for a pen, Harry realised, and found his hand half-way to his pocket before he was aware of what he was doing. He couldn't lend Malfoy his pen. He didn't even let Ron borrow it.

Malfoy found a cheap-looking plastic rollerball pen in the glove box and started filling out the form on the small centre of the steering wheel.
As Harry watched, he suddenly understood, everything felt wrong because Malfoy was so wrong, so muggle and slick and...different.

"You have a car," Harry said and immediately felt stupid.

Malfoy glanced up as Harry over the top of his sunglasses.

"I mean, of course you do, it's right here," Harry said, "I just meant, where did you get it?"

"At a place that was selling them," Malfoy said, looking back to his form.

"What kind is it?" Harry asked, feeling silly and yet still wanting to keep Malfoy from leaving as long as possible, so he understood, that was it. He just had so many questions.

"I don't know," Malfoy said, "It's the one I liked most, so I bought it."

That was the most Malfoy thing he had said all afternoon, and it very, very slightly righted the world in Harry's mind.

"It's nice, or well, it seems nice," Harry said.

Malfoy paused, his pen poised above the paper. He lifted his sunglasses up, resting them on top of his head so he could narrow his eyes at Harry, "Have you hit your head?"

"No. I was just talking, the way people do," Harry said.

Malfoy smiled faintly, "I like it a great deal."

"....Oh, the car! Right," Harry said.

"And the weather," Malfoy prompted.

"It's been- been nice lately," Harry said.

"Yes, it has been rather lovely out." Malfoy was back to smiling faintly.

Malfoy signed the bottom of the form and handed it back to Harry. He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands, looking through the windshield as he said, "I appreciate your cooperation, Auror Potter. I might even look forward to working with you again."

Before Harry could reply, Malfoy dropped his sunglasses back on his nose and took off, speeding down the street with little regard for the posted speed limits.

(see attached comment for link to an adorable picture snarkyships-drarrysides drew of Draco teasing the shit out of Harry😍)