Robards stared at the paper in his hand.

Harry shifted his weight on the uncomfortable chair in front of Robards desk. There was a clock in the room somewhere. Harry had never been able to figure out where it was, but he could always hear the soft tick-tick in the office when things got quiet.

Aside from the wall with the door, the Head Auror's office walls were entirely built-in bookshelves. Harry could have imagined that once they would be filled with books, there still were some on the shelves up by the ceiling, but the lower shelves had been repurposed for other uses. There were stacks of newspapers, piles of loose paper and several shelves were filled with file folders. On different shelves, pushed behind various detritus, Harry also spotted seven different mugs, two pairs of shoes, a couple award plaques and a sock.

"What is this?" Robards asked, setting the paper down on his desk.

Harry managed to pull himself away from the chaotic interest of the walls, "Its for a one week transfer to The Liar's Department."

"I can read, Potter," Robards said, his patience already sounding strained, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Going to work for the Liar's Department for a week," Harry said, unfazed. He had been too worked up last night to sleep, so the sun was starting to rise by the time he finally drifted off. The lack of sleep was seriously hampering his ability to care.

"Think about how this will look," Robards said.

"It will look like the Aurors are helping a new department they are going to be working with regularly get on their feet. After all, we all want to do a good job," Harry said.

"Your...dedication to the aurors is commendable, Potter, but I'm going to have to reject the transfer," Robards said.

"You can't, actually," Harry said, "This is just a formality so that you know I haven't skipped work. I've already filed a copy with Interdepartmental Services."

"You're needed here-"

"I'm not. We aren't working on any urgent cases right now, and you have plenty of Aurors to take the strain if any new ones show up," Harry said.

Robards' jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth, "You can't be playing around like this. Your career-"

"Is doing great," Harry said with a smile fake as aspartame, "I'm the youngest Auror in the history of the department. Can't imagine what I did to earn it but the pay raise is nice."

"You've done plenty, you're a hero, a credit to the uniform," Robards said.

"Is that so," Harry said.

"This isn't like you, Potter. You're solid, dependable. You don't fly off the handle like this," Robards said.

Harry wanted to laugh, Robards really didn't know him very well. Then again, Harry really had been a model auror for the last couple years. He stood up, "I need to get going, or I'll be late for my new job. I'll be back in seven working days, sir."

Harry headed down to the back hallway but Malfoy's 'office' was just a storage closet again, filled with filing cabinets and no Malfoy to be found. He asked reception, but they also had no idea where the Liar's Department had been relocated to. Apparently, they hadn't been notified.

If Fart-taster thought he could hide the department, he was dead wrong. Harry went back down the narrow hallways, past the line of storage rooms and stopped in front of the door at the very end, knocking lightly and waiting until it was hesitantly opened and a house elf peeked out nervously.

"You're not in trouble," Harry said quickly, to head off any wailing and frantic apologies, "I need your help with something."

"Helping with what?" The house elf said meekly, gripping the front of their pillowcase tightly.

"I'm looking for the Liars Department. It's very new and has just been moved to a new office, but no one knows where it is."

The house elf's ears drooped, "Loopa doesn't know."

"Would you ask the others?" Harry said as gently as he could manage, "The new office would have needed a desk and chair... maybe a filing cabinet?"

"You will be waiting here, I will be asking," Loopa the elf said, nervously closing the door again.

A couple minutes later, the door creaked open again, and Loopa peeked out, "New office with Mr Malfoy?"

"Yeah," Harry said a little surprised, "You know him?"

Loopa nodded, "All house elves have been hearing of Mr Malfoy. Mr Malfoy has office on level seven in back corner past gobbystones and big big paper office. Do you need Loopa for other things?"

"Uh...No. Thank you," Harry said and headed to the stairs, going up one level to seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports.

Half the floor was taken up by the chaos of the Quidditch League Headquarters, a large open room filled with conference tables covered in different broom models and sets of quidditch balls. There were also four blackboards. Three of them were covered in little O's and X's moving along dotted lines in various quidditch plays. The other blackboard had the start of a meeting schedule, but it had been half scrubbed off for more game plans. Otherwise, the office was empty. Rumour was the Quidditch League Headquarters didn't start work until ten. But to be fair, they were usually still in their office late into the night arguing about rules and play regality and broom specs.

Harry walked past the tables to the offices in the back corner of the floor. Behind the door to the Official Gobstone Club, he could hear shouting, and mix of cursing and laughter as a game was played. The Ludicrous Patent Office had big glass windows that took up most of the wall and showed an office mostly taken over by paper, stacks and stacks of paper. There were six desks, and all of them were occupied by very serious looking people poring over various patent applications and then referencing older patents, history books and newspapers, occasionally frowning in thought.

It was no wonder Lewis was trying to transfer somewhere else. The idea of working in that sort of office, always doing paperwork, always hunched over a desk, for the rest of his life, made Harry shudder. It was just not for him.

In the corner of the room, just like the house elf had said it would be, was a door with the same piece of spellotaped parchment declaring it The Liars Department stuck onto it, looking a bit more crumpled from the move. Harry went to knock then decided not to, he was working here after all, and pushed open the door.

He caught a brief glimpse of Malfoy bent over something on his desk before he dragged a stack of magazines over it in a panic.

Then Malfoy looked up and instantly relaxed, "Oh. It's you."

A few pencils fell off the desk and rolled across the floor, Harry picked one up. It was blue, a blue coloured pencil. He gave Malfoy a curious look.

"I thought you were Suirup," Malfoy said by way of explanation. The way he said Fart-taster's name made it sound like syrup.

"He doesn't approve of colouring on Ministry time?" Harry asked.

"He doesn't approve of much of anything as far as I can tell," Malfoy said.

Harry put the blue pencil back on the desk and nodded, "That sounds about right."

Malfoy's new office was about twice the size of his last one, which was to say, still really fucking small, but at least you could open the door all the way. And Malfoy had got two more chairs, one in front of his desk and the other in front a much smaller desk in the corner.

Harry shifted his weight. He thought he probably ought to sit, but felt weirdly nervous about it.

"Move!"

Harry jumped to the side, nearly banging into the door frame. He looked back where he had been, then down at a house elf wearing what looked like a child's ballerina costume, including bright pink tutu. She gave Harry an absolutely scathing glare as she went over to the desk, cardboard drinks carrier in hand. There was a massive cup and a small one, which she gave to Malfoy, taking the cup the size of her head back to the little desk in the corner.

"Is that all coffee?" Malfoy asked, "You're going to throw up if you have that much."

"Then Asbestos will find somewhere interesting to throw up," the house elf-

Harry blinked, "Asbestos?"

Malfoy nodded, "She picked it out herself."

"As-bes-tos," Asbestos said carefully, "Nice to say. Feels nice."

Harry frowned, "But isn't that the-"

"It's a lovely name," Malfoy interrupted, his tone was light, but there was a warning look in his eye. "Asbestos, this is Auror Potter."

"Pah. Don't care," Asbestos said.

Harry blinked.

Malfoy snorted.

"So she- So Asi is one of your elves?" Harry asked.

"Asbestos. Not Asi," Asbestos said impatiently, "And Asbestos is not Mr Malfoy's."

Malfoy was grinning, which made Harry want to sigh.

"I took your comments to heart yesterday and hired Asbestos on as my secretary. She can side-along me to distant locations send me messages from the office while I'm out," Malfoy said, pleased as punch.

"I mean, hired is a bit much when you own her," Harry said sourly.

"Asbestos is own elf, Potter-man," Asbestos said sharply. "Not owned by anyone but self."

"...You're a free elf?" Harry asked.

"Asbestos is secretary elf, which is better than being house elf that has to clean dirty pants," Asbestos said.

Harry looked at Malfoy in the faintest chance he could explain what was going on.

"All the manor's house elves are free," Malfoy said.

"What?" Harry said, wobbling as the world shifted beneath his feet.

"Sit down, Auror Potter. Don't you know it's rude to loom about where everyone else is seated?" Malfoy said, "And it makes you look daft."

Harry sat, too bewildered to retort.

"Better," Malfoy said.

"You freed all your house elves?" Harry asked.

Malfoy nodded.

"Why?"

Malfoy shrugged offhandedly, "Oh well... you know, it made my father absolutely livid for one. That was a treat."

Asbestos scoffed loudly in the corner.

"He the one who had his wand destroyed and isn't allowed to ever use one again, you must have been thinking of him when you thought I didn't have a wand. Since he can't use magic he had to pass on ownership of the estate to me so we'd be able to access all of the grounds and rooms, some of them are bound by blood magic. Once the ritual was complete, I immediately freed them," Malfoy grinned widely, "The look on his face, Auror Potter. It's a memory I shall cherish. Do you have a pensieve? I'd be glad to share it."

"No. I've had enough of Lucius Malfoy for the rest of my life," Harry said.

"If only we could all be so lucky." Malfoy leaned forward, "Auror Potter, you must understand, the things the elves buy- it's wonderful, the clothes, the food, the toys and knick-knacks; there's no purer delight in the world than visiting them in the evenings and seeing what they've gotten up to."

Harry frowned, "...You just did it because it was fun?"

"No," Asbestos said before Malfoy could reply, "Old man was hurting elves. Old man was punishing and being cruel because he was angry. Now Old Man can't because free elves can hurt back."

Malfoy slumped back in his chair with a frown that was mostly pout, "But that's horrid and unfun and boring. No one cares about that."

Harry was pretty sure he did. Hermione had been campaigning for ages to get the old houses, the Ministry, and Hogwarts to free their house elves but despite all the claimed support and vague promises, none of them had freed a single elf. And yet the one house she never asked had freed them all.

"Stupid," Asbestos said.

"I am not," Malfoy said.

"Double stupid," Asbestos said.

"Well, you're rude," Malfoy said.

Asbestos grinned, "Asbestos is. Just as she likes. But not stupid like you."

"not stupid," Malfoy muttered under his breath.

Harry let out a surprised laugh.

Malfoy frowned at him, "Oh, go away. Don't you have work to do, Auror Potter? You're dreadfully late."

"I was only a bit late, having to find this place wasn't easy, you know. The receptionists weren't told your office had moved," Harry said.

Malfoy's brow furrowed.

And it occurred to Harry that without anyone knowing where the office was, they wouldn't be able to send him a notification that Harry had done the transfer.

"The Ministry has this thing where you can transfer to another department for a week to try it out," Harry said, "I transferred here. To work. For a week."

Malfoy stared at him.

Harry stared back.

"No. Not possible," Malfoy said.

"I'm pretty sure it is. I filled out the paperwork myself," Harry said.

Malfoy abruptly looked away, putting his hand over his mouth.

Harry watched as the tops of Malfoy's ears slowly turned red. He sat back in his chair, enjoying the sudden change. See how you like being unbalanced, Harry thought.

"stupid," Asbestos said under her breath.

Malfoy cleared his throat and ran a hand over his hair, "I certainly wasn't expecting that. It seems like... an unusual choice."

"Yeah, well, the department is being set up to fail, and it isn't right," Harry said.

"I can manage," Malfoy said stiffly.

Harry shifted in the chair, it squeaked under his weight, "Sorry to bruise your delicate ego, Malfoy, but it isn't about you. The auror's are going to look bad if a muggle exposure goes wrong and Suirup's set this whole thing up to make Hermione look stupid." And well, it might have been a bit about Malfoy, seeing as he was just trying to do his job. But Harry wasn't about to tell him that.

Malfoy's brow furrowed, "How is Granger involved in this?"

Harry nodded, "She wanted to do a research paper on the effect of obliviating muggles in case it was causing memory problems and Suirup's in charge of the committee to approve her proposals. He spun the whole thing into this department-"

"And set it up to fail so she would look foolish," Malfoy said. He sighed and let out a strange little laugh, "Of course. Here I thought it was about me, but it never is, is it? Always the pawn, never the player."

It was self-deprecating, Malfoy's laugh, that's why Harry couldn't place it before. He'd rarely heard Malfoy be anything other annoying confident.

"It's probably better this way," Malfoy said. He took a deep breath and put a smile on that didn't look genuine in the least, "Suirup used to be very vocal in his opinions about muggle-borns rising above their station before the war. I'm not surprised Granger is having trouble with him."

"He's a dick. I don't know how he managed to get a seat on the Wizengamont anyway," Harry said.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "Most of them are dicks, and I mean that literally. The majority of the seats are inherited or are filled by Ministry department heads. In fact, there are only a few seats that are elected. I'd have thought you'd know that, Auror Potter-"

"Just Potter. I'm not an auror right now," Harry pointed out.

Malfoy curled his lip in dismay, "No. I don't think so."

"I think so. Filled out the paperwork, remember?" Harry said.

"Ugh," Malfoy said, "I cannot call you- No."

"What?" Harry said grinning faintly, "You didn't have any problem calling me Pottah in school."

Malfoy winced, "That is exactly the problem. That name is full of baggage and horrid memories. I'm not interested in reminiscing."

"It's my name," Harry said.

"Enjoy. It's not mine, and I don't have to use it if I don't want to," Malfoy said.

Harry rolled his eyes, "You could always use my first name, you know. I do have one."

"No," Malfoy said flatly.

"In fact, it's Harry. You should try it sometime," Harry said.

"I'll be sure to use it at your funeral," Malfoy said.

"Come on, Malfoy-!"

"Ah!" Malfoy pointed at him, "You still use my last name."

Harry frowned at him, "That's just a habit."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows.

Harry frowned harder.

They stared at one another, stubbornness radiating off them like a bad fever.

"Fine," Harry said, "Draco."

Harry looked away at the same time Malfoy did, feeling really weirdly embarrassed by it all.

"double stupid," Asbestos muttered.

Harry cleared his throat, "Yeah, no, this is a bit ridiculous. What we ought to be doing is letting reception know where your office is so they can contact you if something happens."

"Yes..." Malfoy said thoughtfully, "Asbestos, can you do that?"

"Asbestos not stupid, so yes," Asbestos said standing up on her chair, her tutu crinkling as it brushed past her desk.

"What? I could do that. You could do it," Harry said.

"She's my secretary, it's her job. And we shall be going out," Malfoy said.

"We shall?" Harry said.

Malfoy waved him off, "Do you have the phone I gave you, Asbestos?"

"Yes, yes. Asbestos will contact you if there is memo or person needing you," Asbestos said dismissively. She snapped her fingers and apparated away.

"What phone? Muggle tec doesn't really work here, there's too much magic interference," Harry said.

Malfoy stood up and straightened his suit before reaching into his pocket and drawing out a slim black flip-phone. Or something that looked quite like a mirror. When Malfoy flipped it open, Harry saw that the small screen on top had been replaced with a mirror.

"Oh! It's like a two-way mirror?" Harry said, "Aren't they really rare?"

Malfoy snapped it shut and put it away, "Yes. It's because the spellwork required to make them permanently connected is extremely difficult. The spells to keep them temporarily connected are much easier. They should work for a year."

"I've never seen anything like that before," Harry said, "It's really clever."

"Thank you," Malfoy said with a truly smug smile, "It's a prototype. I still have to figure out how to get them to connect to other mirrors instead of just one."

"You made it?" Harry said, sounding more than a little doubtful.

"Of course. I'm very creative and clever, you know," Malfoy said.

"Sure you are," Harry said derisively.

Malfoy sighed at him, "Oh, fuck off."

"Hey-!"

"If you're done antagonizing me," Malfoy said.

"I- What? I wasn't!" Harry said.

Malfoy gave him a look that said that Harry was very much being a total twat and to which Harry didn't think he deserved in the least.

"Let's go. We need to get you a uniform," Malfoy said. He edged past the desk and then did his best to sweep past Harry out the door.

"Uniform? You don't mean a suit? I'm not wearing anything like that," Harry said, pointing at Malfoy's white suit.

Malfoy put his sunglasses, "I'm your boss, aren't I? So you'll wear whatever uniform I like."

Harry hesitated. It actually hadn't occurred to him that he would be working for Malfoy, and he suddenly felt a deep sense of foreboding for what was to come.

"Come along. We don't, in fact, have all day. I'm off at six," Malfoy said.

"So am I."

"No. You were late and will stay back a half an hour after to make up the time," Malfoy said, "And your suit will be black."

Harry stood up with a sigh and followed Malfoy.

They took the floo to Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron. Malfoy's white suit drew all eyes in the room, and instantly all conversation stopped. The expressions on most peoples faces went glacial. Harry narrowed his eyes and then pointedly cleared his throat, glaring around the room as people took notice of him.

"Quit posturing, Auror Potter, it won't help," Malfoy said, his eyes obscured by his sunglasses, and heading out the muggle street entrance.

He was gone before Harry could protest that it wasn't posturing.

"Are you going to arresting that criminal, Mr Potter, sir?" someone asked from behind him.

Harry spun around, looking for the question asker but everyone seemed to shrink away from him, "Malfoy is a Ministry employee."

Someone coughed faintly.

No one would meet Harry's eye.

"We're working together as colleagues," Harry said.

An older witch nodded absently and forced a polite smile.

Harry glared at the room again before stalking outside.

"We're working together as colleagues," Malfoy repeated in a nasally tone.

Harry spun towards him, still glaring.

Malfoy was leaning against the wall on one shoulder. "So scary," he said with a smirk.

"I wasn't trying to scare anyone," Harry said, "I just- It'd be better if people thought for a second before jumping to conclusions."

"Does that include you, Auror Potter?" Malfoy asked.

"Harry. And yes, of course."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Harry said.

"I recall that in our first encounter a few days ago, you seemed to jump to some very... strong opinions," Malfoy said.

"That's- That's different. I know you," Harry said.

"Knew," Malfoy corrected, "I like to think I've changed since then."

"...a bit, maybe," Harry said.

"maybe a bit," Malfoy muttered under his breath as he headed down the street to- Malfoy's car.

Harry stopped, "You're not expecting me to get in that thing, are you?"

"Afraid of cars? Weren't you raised with muggles?" Malfoy said, glancing over his shoulder.

"I not afraid of cars, I'm afraid of one driven by you," Harry said.

"I passed the theory and driving test," Malfoy said taking a licence from his inside pocket and holding it up between two fingers.

Harry took the card and looked at it. He had no idea what a drivers licence was meant to look like. "How do I know it's not fake?"

Malfoy shrugged, "I supposed you could request the record of my tests."

"You could falsify the documents," Harry said.

"It's all digital now. I wouldn't even know where to start," Malfoy said, starting to get annoyed.

"You could still alter peoples memories so that they could put false information into the computers," Harry said.

Malfoy turned back to him, lifting his sunglasses up and setting them on top his head, narrowing his eyes at Harry.

"What? It's possible."

"What a hypocrite. It'd be better if people thought before jumping to conclusions," Malfoy said mockingly.

Harry felt a pang of guilt and ignored it.

"Give me my licence back," Malfoy said, reaching for it.

Harry took a step back, "And this photo of you is awful."

Malfoy gave Harry his most affronted look, "That is not my fault! I've heard everyone takes a bad photo for these things."

"You look constipated," Harry said.

Malfoy tried to snatch his driver's licence, "Give. It. Back."

Harry took a step backwards with every frantic grab, reminding Harry of Malfoy's rather terrible luck catching the snitch. "And what happened to your hair?"

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and took a sudden step forward, to which Harry tried to back up just a quickly except the pavement ended, and he found himself falling instead, hitting the road hard enough to startle the breath out of him. A stinging throb of pain following soon after from his elbow and hip. Luckily the road was empty.

Malfoy leaned down and plucked his licence from Harry's fingers and stood over him as he put it away, "The woman told me to stand in front of the screen, and she was taking too long, and just as I was about to ask if she was going to take the damn thing, she did and I wasn't ready, and I asked to retake it, and she said I could in ten years. So it was not my fault."

Harry tried to laugh but was too winded to do more than wheeze.

"You know, I had almost forgotten what an asshole you are," Malfoy said.

"Am not," Harry said, "Help me up, would you?"

"No." Malfoy said flatly, heading back to his car, "And you're fired."

Harry stumbled to his feet and nearly ran after Malfoy, his aches and pain temporarily forgotten, "Fired? You can't-"

"Can. I'm your boss," Malfoy said.

"Technically, I'm just on loan, only Robbards can fire me," Harry said, catching up.

Malfoy stopped and gave him a positively icy stare, "...Fine. You can return to the office. You're Asbestos' under-secretary now."

"What?"

"Did I stutter?" Malfoy said, "Let me be more explicit then, I don't want to work with you anymore. I'm not interested in being bullied or toyed with. I'm not going to suffer for anyone's amusement ever again, but especially yours."

Malfoy turned and unlocked his car, fumbling with his keys slightly as he tried to get them in the lock. The engine roared to life, and the canvas roof began slowly rolling back on the convertible.

Harry realised that Malfoy was serious, and he was in real danger of being left behind with a house elf that might very well throw up on him for fun.

"Look! I'm- I'm sorry, alright? I was just- just teasing and went too far," Harry said.

Malfoy gripped the steering wheel, looking straight ahead.

"I mean it! I'll try not to- to be an asshole," Harry insisted leaning over the passenger side door.

Malfoy looked at him then, with a glare, "Off the car."

Harry leaned back, holding his hands up.

"Say it again," Malfoy said.

"What- which...part?" Harry said.

"The part where you apologised," Malfoy said, "I want to hear it again so I can properly enjoy it."

A part of himself that embarrassingly reminded Harry of a toddler having a tantrum was shouting about how he'd never apologise to the likes of Malfoy of all people. He had to remind himself that he had already apologised even if he had just sort of said it, and it wasn't any different to apologise again, even if it felt different.

Malfoy was watching him with interest, "Don't strain yourself."

"Shut up," Harry snapped automatically.

Malfoy shrugged and put his hand on the gear stick.

"Okay okay," Harry said and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Malfoy snorted, "That was awful."

"Hey-!"

"Get in, before I change my mind," Malfoy said.

The seats of Malfoy's car were pale grey and made that squeaky fart sound so particular to leather seats as Harry sat and pulled the door shut behind him, perhaps a little too hard by the way Malfoy's eye twitched.

"Seat belt on, Auror Potter," Malfoy said.

"Harry," Harry said, reaching over his shoulder and pulling the belt on.

Malfoy rolled his eyes before sliding his sunglasses back on and putting the car into gear, pulling out onto the street.

Harry clutched the seat with both hands in a death grip as Malfoy accelerated, holding his breath in anticipation of the worst. But Malfoy slowed as the light turned red at the next intersection and was smooth in accelerating once it went green again, his hand shifting from gear to gear like it was second nature. He liked to accelerate on any clear stretch, but he never misjudged how close the next car was or rushed yellow lights. Malfoy was a surprisingly a good driver.

"How long have you been driving?" Harry asked, prising his grip loose.

"Three years," Malfoy said.

That meant that Malfoy would have been driving while Harry had still been in training. "How did you learn? Did you take a class?" Harry asked.

"I hired a tutor," Malfoy said.

Harry grinned, "A tutor?"

"All of my education outside of Hogwarts has been from tutors. It seemed logical enough to me." Malfoy said.

Harry let himself relax back into the seat, the wind ruffling his hair, "And they have driving tutors?"

"I found someone willing."

"Oh, yeah? Who?"

"University student," Malfoy said.

"University's a bit strange for a first name," Harry said.

Malfoy glanced over at him then back at the road, "I hardly see how it matters, but his name's Trev."

"Trev. Was he a lad? With that sort of name he sounds like a lad," Harry said.

Malfoy sighed at him.

"You know the type, always going to the pub to watch footie on the tv with his mates," Harry said.

"And you don't go to the pub to listen to quidditch broadcasts?" Malfoy asked.

"Well, yeah... but I'm not a lad. Not a lad lad," Harry said.

Malfoy snorted at him.

"It's a thing, like a distinct thing," Harry insisted.

"Well, since you're the one defining it, you'll excuse me if I don't entirely believe you," Malfoy said. He shifted down, the car slowing as he pulled half onto the pavement, his car parked right over the bright yellow line.

"You can't park here," Harry said, "The yellow line means-"

"I know," Malfoy opened the glovebox and taking out a paper wrapped in a yellow plastic that read PENALTY CHARGE NOTICE, which he put under the wiper blade after getting out.

Harry scrambled out of the car, "That's- You can't do that!"

Malfoy smirked at him as he walked around the car, "Oh, but I must, Auror Potter. Don't you know in order to own and use any muggle object that might conceivably be also touched or used by a muggle that the object must be carefully warded with muggle repelling charms?"

"So?"

"I'm not allowed to alter or bespell the car in case it's sold back to a muggle. So, that," Malfoy said with an elegant gesture that somehow contrived to be mocking, "is my muggle repelling object. I registered it with the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."

"They let you register that-" Harry pointed accusingly at the parking ticket.

"Oh, yes, its all perfectly legal. I have the papers back at my office if you want to check them," Malfoy said.

"They have no idea what that even means do they?" Harry said.

Malfoy smiled with delight, "Not the faintest clue."

"Is it even charmed, or is it just a parking ticket?" Harry asked.

Malfoy's smile grew, "Not telling."

"What are you, five?"

"What are you? Fifty? You sound like an old man," Malfoy said.

Harry frowned at him, "We're the same age, and two months difference doesn't make me an old man."

Malfoy laughed and took his sunglasses off, which felt like a victory to Harry.

"One, I was referring to your state of mind," Malfoy said, "Two, why do you know when my birthday is?"

"What? It's just- you know, you always got a lot of presents, and the house elves always made a little cake if it was someone's birthday," Harry said, feeling embarrassed. Trying to shake the feeling off he said, "Besides I bet you know when mine is, it's not that odd."

"Your birthday is practically a national holiday. I don't think they compare," Malfoy said, "To think, I might have been flattered by that once. Now I just find it slightly concerning."

"What? What do you mean-"

"Quit dawdling. You need to get fitted so they can finish the alterations for tomorrow," Malfoy said, waving for Harry to follow him.

Harry hesitated, the shop was fronted in dark stained wood, the only sign were the names, Pyne and Baley, over the door in modest gold lettering. The windows were narrow and held no window displays or signs. There were no listed hours. There was no indication, in fact, that it was a shop at all.

Harry wanted to protest again, but Malfoy was already inside, the door swinging shut silently behind him. Harry wasn't going to stand on the street by himself, so he went in.

As soon as the door shut behind him all sound from the street vanished. The air in the shop felt like crushed velvet and smelled very faintly of an earthy, expensive cologne.

The front room was small, with wine coloured carpet and matching heavy drapes hanging around the windows. The walls were covered in old fashioned ornate wallpaper, the light fixtures were brightly polished brass.

"It's only a week," Harry hissed under his breath, feeling utterly unnerved by the silence and privilege the room exuded.

There weren't even any suits displayed, just a few chairs and small couch upholstered in black fabric so matte the shapes and shadow of the furniture were lost.

Malfoy glanced at him, unmoved.

"I have a suit I can wear," Harry said.

The corner of Malfoy's mouth twitched up.

"Malfoy," Harry said, nearly- probably pleading.

Instead, Malfoy called out, "Mr Pyne? Mr Baley?"

His words were absorbed back into silence almost immediately, and there were a few nerve-wracking seconds before a door at the back of the room was opened, even more silently than the front door, followed by an equally quiet man. He was older with grey hair and a moustache neatly trimmed who exuded a perfect calm composure that Harry envied. He stared at Malfoy for a second before dipping his head in recognition, "Mr Malfoy, it's a pleasure to have your custom once again."

"For you and your partner's skill, I would cross oceans, Mr Payne," Malfoy said.

Mr Payne put on the faintest of smiles, "Your compliments would be better served in the ears of others. At sixty, We have heard them all."

"They are well earned," Malfoy said.

Malfoy stood differently in this place. He was always straight-backed, head held high and generally full of himself, but here, instead of looking stiff and formal, he fit. He felt easier in the way he talked and stood, even his expressions seemed smoother.

And Harry couldn't have felt more out of place if he tried.

"I need a suit for my new associate," Malfoy said, "In the same cut and style as mine but black to my white."

"Yin to your yang," Mr Payne said. His voice held no hint of meaning or implication, but there was a look in his eye that made Malfoy go still.

"I'm helping Malfoy's new department get off the ground," Harry clarified.

"Hmm," Mr Payne said under his breath, looking from Malfoy to Harry.

Malfoy cleared his throat, "I'll need it ready by tomorrow, I'm willing to pay for the rush."

"Let me check our stock and see if we have anything we can alter," Mr Pyne said and returned to the backroom.

"Just so you know, I'm going to look ridiculous," Harry said once he was gone.

"I doubt that," Malfoy said, "Everyone looks good in a suit and I mean everyone."

"Well, you're wrong because I look like a berk in one," Harry muttered.

Malfoy turned and looked at him. The room was so small and quiet, it felt more than a little unnerving to be stared at so intently.

"Probably because it was one size too big, if not more," Malfoy said, "Just like your uniform and everything else you wear."

"I- I just don't like tight-fitting clothing," Harry said, feeling defensive,

"Clothes that fit correctly aren't tight, unless you want them to be," Malfoy said, "Did your uniform at school bother you?"

"What?" And it took a moment to remember they were in a muggle shop so of course Malfoy wouldn't bring up robes. "They were fine, I guess, I never noticed one way or the other."

"Those were tailored. Most of the clothes made in for us are. You'd know that if bought any of them," Malfoy said.

"Yeah, well, I'm not really a fan of wiz- um, strange fashions," Harry said.

"The point being," Malfoy went on, "that bespoke tailoring won't feel constricting because it's made for you. And it's your uniform, so your opinion really doesn't matter."

Mr Payne returned and hung several suits up on the wall, brushing his hands over the black fabric and stepping back, "I have these available for such short notice."

Malfoy left, going over to Mr Payne, his voice dropping as he talked quietly and with avid interest about the different suits. They all looked the same to Harry.

Harry didn't care what they were talking about. He was too preoccupied with the strange feeling his chest that had catapulted him back to sixth year like a sucker-punch to the face. It was a twisting, gnawing, why aren't you looking at me? Feeling, right in the pit of his stomach. Except that this time Malfoy wasn't up to something, unless Harry counted Malfoy being a general pain the ass to everyone he met for his own amusement. But Harry didn't understand why he was feeling it now. Malfoy was just talking about suits. It just- it didn't make sense.

"-tter! I told you he wasn't listening," Malfoy said, "He's completely bull-headed."

"My Oliver is the same way," Mr Payne said, "Very single minded."

"I am not," Harry said.

"How is Mr Baley doing?" Malfoy asked.

"Quite well," Mr Payne said.

"Was there-? Why were you calling me?" Harry asked.

"I need to take your measurements," Mr Payne said patiently. He took a cloth tape measure from his pocket, "You will likely need to take off your jacket and trousers as they are quite bulky. Although I can try to get an accurate measurement with them on if you're more comfortable that way-"

Harry saw Malfoy smirk.

"-we also have a small room in back for changing if you would prefer," Mr Payne said.

Harry glared back at Malfoy, "No, that's fine," he said stiffly and shrugged off his jacket, dropping it over the back of one of the chairs. He was suddenly relieved he had put on his good pants that morning, if he had worn one of his older pairs Malfoy would have never let him live it down.

Malfoy draped himself onto the couch and proceeded to watch with apparent interest as Harry got measured and then fitted into the suit he had choosen. Harry had to assume Malfoy enjoyed watching him squirm.

Then they went to lunch. Which involved Malfoy randomly walking down the street in whichever direction he fancied until they came upon a restaurant and ordering whatever sounded interesting for the both of them. Though, because they argued and bickered through the entire meal, Harry couldn't actually recall what they ate. But it didn't make him sick, so it couldn't have been that bad.

And before Harry knew it, it was nearly six, and they went back to the office.

While they were gone, Asbestos had filled the underneath of her desk with pillows and fluffy blankets, one of which she was wrapped up in as she read her way through a book nearly half her size. She carefully marked her spot in the book before getting up and brushing off her tutu.

"Enjoy watching the office for another half an hour," Malfoy said.

Harry turned around, "What? Why did you come back if you were just going to leave again?"

"To pick up Asbestos," Malfoy said, waving for Asbestos to join him, "See you tomorrow, Auror Potter."

"Harry," Harry corrected even as Malfoy shut the door in his face, leaving him alone in the small office.

Harry waited for about a minute to make sure Malfoy was gone then sat behind the desk, pulling open all the drawers but they were empty. He turned his attention to the mess across the desktop. The only neat stack on paper was copies of form AD 45-O in one corner. There were a lot of blank sheets of paper, a few covered in doodles and random notes that made no sense to Harry and coloured pencils and a few pens. The only interesting things were a bunch of cheap-looking magazines with unmoving muggle covers.

Harry picked up the top magazine titled, The Complete Guide To The Supernatural: Unexplained, Frightening, Otherworldly. There was a picture of a ufo on the cover apparently abducting a small figure below. The smaller print promised: Mysteries of the Unknown Revealed! Alien Abductions, Magic and Witchcraft, Ghosts and Spirits!

Harry flipped it open, skimming some of the articles. They seemed to be mostly large pictures and small, poorly written stories presented as truth. He looked over the other magazines, one about secret societies, another about the most haunted places in the world. They all looked like they'd been read, Malfoy had even earmarked some of the pages.

Harry dropped the magazines to the side and sat back, almost instantly bored. He sat forward, grabbing a blank sheet of paper and pen. He thought for a moment, then wrote, doing his best upper management impression;

Sir Salas Suirup, if you're going to move the location of an office, you need to notify the front desk so that any memos or assignments can be delivered. Failure to do so can interfere with the smooth operations of both the Auror's Department and The Liars Department. If you have any issues regarding these standard procedures, please speak with Interdepartmental Services on level eight.

-Auror Harry Potter

Harry tapped his wand on the sheet of paper, murmuring a quick charm, which folded it into a paper aeroplane and sent it sailing through the air. It stopped in front of the closed door, which Harry opened for it, watching it glide across the open offices to the lift.

He remembered too late that he had been pretending not to know who ran The Liars Department the last time he met Suirup. Then again, he said he was going to look into it, so it sort of made sense that he'd know everything by now.

Harry considered waiting another, he checked his watch, twenty-five minutes, but decided since no one was watching, he could just leave. If he was quick, he might still catch Ron before he left for the day.

Harry took the lift up to the auror's floor, and headed to Ron's cubicle, running into him as was he gathering up his things to leave.

"Hey, mate!" Ron said, "Where have you been all day? Thought maybe you were sick since you didn't have a Senior assignment."

Harry shook his head, "Nah, you heading out?"

Ron nodded, "I was gonna go to the pub for a bit till Hermione's off."

"I'll come with," Harry said, walking with Ron back to the lift.

"You still haven't said where you were? Is it a secret mission?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head, "...I'll tell you once we're out of the Ministry."

They took floo to Diagon Alley and headed toward The Hopping Pot.

"...So-," Ron prompted as they navigated the end of day crowds.

"Well, um, I'm gonna help out the Liars Department for a week," Harry said.

"What? Who bright idea was that?" Ron said in dismay.

"Err...mine?" Harry said.

Ron grimaced, "That's, uh..."

They had to walk around a pair of older witches so caught up in conversation they were apparently unaware they were blocking the middle of the street.

"Will Hermione be mad?" Harry asked, as the idea somewhat, very, belatedly occurred to him.

Ron absently scratched his chin, "Not mad per se... but if like something goes wrong and you get in trouble or something she's definitely going to blame herself for getting you involved."

"She didn't get me involved, it was my idea," Harry said.

"But that's not how she's gonna see it," Ron said.

They edged around a crowd at the front of the Quidditch supply shop.

"The new Firebolt is still drawing a lot of attention," Ron said.

Harry nodded, "I've heard it's got some balance issues."

"It's a racing model, it's meant for professionals. Those berks reviewing it in the Quidditch Weekly don't know how to ride a good broom," Ron said.

"If they're selling it in shops for anyone to buy, anyone ought to be able to ride it," Harry said.

"That's what Cleansweeps are for! A racing broom is for racing!" Ron said.

"Alright, alright," Harry conceded, pulling open the pub door.

They grabbed stools at the end of the bar and ordered a couple pints.

"Should I tell her, do you think?" Harry asked.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Should I tell Hermione I'm working with the Liars Department?" Harry said.

Ron took a swallow of beer and let out a huge sigh before answering, "That's up to you, mate."

"What would you do?" Harry asked.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged, "Tell her."

Harry sighed.

"Or well... that's the smart thing to do. I'd probably not tell her and then let it slip on accident and then get shouted at," Ron thought about it and nodded, "Yup. That sounds more like it."

Harry sipped at his beer as a couple guys came into the pub and their friends greeted them with loud shouts of Hey! And Took you long enough!.

"How's your work going with the whole, potion smuggling thing?" Harry asked.

Ron swivelled on his stool toward Harry, casting a muffliato around them, "Actually, I learned something interesting-"

"Yeah?"

"You know how Hogwarts has that book that knows whenever a magical kid is born so that they can keep track of them and send them a letter at elven and what-not?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, to get a business licence from the Ministry, you have to register in a ledger that's linked to your shop, and it records every sale and purchase as it happens. That way, the Ministry knows exactly how much tax you owe. So the ledgers I've been working out of aren't the shop's books, they're the Ministry's copies," Ron said, "Neat, huh?"

"I suppose," Harry said, "but why would a shop that's smuggling potions-"

"Laundering galleons," Ron corrected.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Alright, laundering money then, why would they bother setting up a legit business? Wouldn't it be easier to run illegally or under the table or what have you?"

"No. The entire point of laundering money is to put illegally earned money into a 'real' business, and then it comes out looking like profits made legally," Ron said, "So the, whoever is behind this, 'buys potions' or gives the shop a bunch of money, and the shop makes a fake receipt for the 'potions' so there's a sale and then the money's been earned. The shops are just shells to move the money around. And they set up the shops as an owl-order only so no store or real customers to worry about."

"Wow, that's..."

"If the accountants in Admin hadn't noticed something was off and sent us the ledgers, no one would've even known it was happening," Ron said, "Senior Auror Leon says I've got a good head for this sort of thing. I'm hoping he'll put in a good word for my promotion."

"You'll have earned it," Harry said.

Ron finished his pint and slid it across the bar, "I'll buy the next round."

"This is plenty for me," Harry said, lifting his half-empty glass.

"Suit yourself," Ron said, waving to the barkeep for another.

Harry leaned his elbows on the bar, his mind drifting back to the day he had. He still didn't understand why Malfoy called him an asshole when Harry said he didn't think Malfoy was creative.

"Hey, would you say Malfoy's creative?" Harry asked offhandedly.

Ron distractedly fumbled a handful of coins out his pocket, "I dunno...he made that dumb dementor costume and the Weasley is our King song, that turned out alright. I mean, most of the dumb shit he thought up blew up in his face." He counted out the sickles and passed them over to the barman, "Not the Potter stinks badges but even a broken clock's right twice a day."

And Harry had to admit that lying was a creative sort of thing to do, in a Slytherin sort of way.

"Wait," Ron froze, "Wait. Where'd you see Malfoy?"

"What? I never said I saw him," Harry said.

Ron narrowed his eyes, "Its been years since you brought up the ferrety bastard, you saw him."

"Well..."

Ron's eyes narrowed further, "Where? Was he causing trouble?"

Harry thought frantically, he couldn't say Malfoy was The Liars Department, that would cause more trouble than Harry working there. And if he said Malfoy was part of an arrest, which wasn't strictly untrue, it would be well... Harry wouldn't feel right about it. Malfoy was... not the worst. He'd even freed his house elves, even if he was enabling them to be little horrors.

"He works for the Ministry," Harry said quickly to cover up for his pause.

Hermione tapped them on the shoulders, her words coming out muffled and strange through the spell.

Ron spun around, dispelling the muffliato, "Did you know Malfoy's working at the Ministry?"

Hermione stopped in her tracks and pointed a finger at Harry, "Leave Malfoy alone."

"What?" Harry said held up both hands, "I haven't-"

"You heard me, don't bother him," Hermione said.

"I haven't!" Harry said defensively.

"Has he been coming to you?" Hermione asked.

"Well, no-"

"Have you just run into one another accidentally?" Hermione asked.

"S-sort of, I mean, the first time-" Harry said.

"Or have you been hunting him down and bothering him?" Hermione said, her words cutting Harry to the quick.

"I thought you hated Malfoy, Mione," Ron said.

Hermione sighed, putting her hands on her hips, "I don't particularly like him, but I can still empathise with his situation."

Harry... had been bothering Malfoy? He just- wanted to help? Right?

Ron's brow furrowed which earned him a sigh from Hermione.

"He's a social pariah, and the only place he can even use magic in a house that used to be infested with death eaters and is currently infested with his parents under house arrest, of which Lucius can't use magic ever. It must be unbearable," Hermione said.

Harry frowned. He had tracked Malfoy down to his office after Malfoy's very first assignment...

"Besides, you saw him at the trials, I've never seen a more miserable human being, and there were a lot to compare him to," Hermione added.

Harry's frown deepened. Then he had charged onto an auror's scene he wasn't even involved with. It had looked like it was going badly but maybe it would have been fine, and Harry had just been forcing himself in where he wasn't needed-

Ron nodded, "Malfoy looked like a ghost, all skin and bones and dark circles."

And then he had signed up for the Liars Department without asking Malfoy or Hermione- Harry groaned and put his head in his hands.

Hermione huffed at him, "Just leave him alone, Harry. Malfoy has a right to- to try again, just like any of us."

"Let him live his miserable life," Ron said.

Harry sighed into his hands, it was too late for that.