He woke early again and glared at the sun shining through the large window. The shop was already getting ready to open as he came downstairs, employees he had never met were stocking shelves and arranging displays.

George, when Draco spotted him, had his arms loaded with crates stacked well above his head that wobbled as he walked. "Ron!" He dropped the boxes in front of an empty table, "Brother dearest, where the fuck are you?!"

"Working? What do you think I'm doing?" Ron called from the second floor.

"Well, you should be halfway to Gringott's unless you expect every customer to pay with exact change!" George shouted.

Ron came around the bannister, "Since when? You always do the Gringott's run!"

"Gotta set up this dung bomb display," George said. He waggled his eyebrows, "Wanna trade?"

"Nah," Ron said, skipping down the stairs, "Anyone free to go to the bank?"

No one answered him.

George frowned looking around, "Killian could- no she's watching cauldrons. Penelope is- no she's busy... Thomas could be spared maybe?"

"Draco!" Ron waved, "Be a mate and walk with me to Gringott's, it'll only be ten minutes."

"Ron. He doesn't work for us you can't ask him-"

"It's fine." Draco said, "I wanted to ask you something anyway."

"See! It's fine!" Ron said, hurrying outside before George could stop him.

Draco hurried to join Ron.

"Thanks," Ron said, "We're a bit swamped right now restocking after the holidays."

Draco nodded.

"So what did you want to ask?"

Draco glanced over at him, "I just wanted to know when you locked up for the night."

"The shop closes at eight. We don't really hang around long after that, do most of the cleaning and paperwork in the morning," Ron said.

"Okay, thank you," Draco said.

"That's it?" Ron asked, raising a good-natured eyebrow.

Draco nodded.

"You could have got that from the hours posted on the door, you know," Ron said.

Draco winced, "Oh. Sorry to bother you."

"No mate, it's fine. You can ask more is all." Ron said, "I told George he should get you a key so you can come and go whenever, but he wants to wait a while to make sure you aren't barmey."

"That's probably wise," Draco said.

Ron sighed, his breath coming out in a cloud, "No, it's stingy. You'd think he'd remember what it was like having nothing. He and Fred were only able to open the shop because Harry gave them the money. With no strings and no questions."

Draco tucked his chin down into the folds of his cloak, thinking that this must be what it was like to be friends with Ron Weasley. It was no wonder Potter had chosen Ron over and over again.

"Did you get the new name?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Draco said and added hesitantly, "It took all day."

"The Ministry never does anything by half, and everything they do requires a mountain of paperwork," Ron said, shaking his head.

Draco smiled faintly, "I planned to look for a job today, though I have no qualifications."

"That's alright. Lots of people our age never got NEWT's, you don't have to tell them you weren't in the war. They'll probably give you a shot."

Draco hunched his shoulders, dropping further into himself.

"And if not, you can always take the NEWT's in the summer. Most jobs only really look for one or two if any," Ron said.

"Right," Draco said quietly.

"It'll be alright. You're fit enough and have a posh voice, that'll get you farther than you'd think. And if that doesn't work out for you, I'm sure we can get you some part-time work in the shop." Ron said.

Draco smiled faintly.

Ron saw his expression and grinned back, nudging Draco with his elbow. They went into the bank, and Draco waited in the lobby while Ron talked with the goblins. When Ron came out the money for the till was already hidden away out of sight.

"I've thought of another question for you, if you don't mind," Draco said.

"Don't mind at all," Ron said.

Draco looked down at the cobblestones as they walked, choking down his pride to ask, "I need to buy...everything, and I don't really know where to go to- to not spend all my savings."

Ron nodded, "Yeah, yeah. No, muggle shops are the way to go. They have cheaper stuff and more stuff and good second-hand shops."

"Okay," Draco said, unwilling to admit that the idea of going into a muggle shop terrified him, "Thank you for the advice."

"You don't have to thank me all the time," Ron said.

Draco shrugged, "You were the first person to be kind to me after... everything, I'd rather be overly polite than risk upsetting you."

"You're alright, mate. You don't have to worry so much," Ron said. They paused in front of the shop and Ron gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder, "See you later. Good luck with the job hunt."

Draco nodded goodbye, his feet stuck to the ground for a second before pushing himself to move. After getting breakfast he went to the closest apothecary.

But they weren't hiring. Draco went to the smaller apothecary on Diagon that mostly did owl order had just hired on a new brewer. The last apothecary he knew of was in Hogsmeade, Pippin's Potions.

It was bigger than the shops in Diagon and nearly empty in the middle of the day with school in session.

"Can I help you, sir?" the man at the counter asked.

"Are you hiring?" Draco asked, "I'm good at brewing-"

The man waved a hand to stop him before he could go on, "No, No. I have two good brewers. I don't need another."

"I see," Draco ducked his head, "Thank you, I'll-"

"Wait, don't run away, lad. I've heard St. Mungo's needs someone to brew for them. If you're any good, go ask them."

A knot of dread caught in Draco's throat, he had applied to work at St. Mungo's after his trials, but even with his Outstanding NEWT in Potions they turned him away. He had sought a Mastership in Potions, but no one would agree to take him on as an apprentice. He would have had to move to another continent to find someone who didn't know his name, and he hadn't been willing to leave his mother behind.

But he had nothing to lose by trying again.

Draco thanked the man at the counter and apparated to the hospital, approaching the front desk with trepidation.

"Emergency?" The front desk wizard asked, his name tag read Uri.

"No-"

Uri slapped a clipboard on the desk, it had about twenty forms on it, "Fill this out. Once you're done, bring it back to me, and we'll see you as soon as we can."

"I'm not here for treatment," Draco said.

Uri raised an eyebrow, "Then why are you wasting my time?"

Draco blinked, impressed despite himself, "I heard you're hiring potion brewers."

Uri grabbed a speaking tube hanging from the wall and tapped it with his wand before speaking into it, "Flo, brewing applicant at the desk."

Draco thought he heard someone shout, "Finally!" before Uri hung the tube back on its hook.

"Flo will be right with you, please wait over here," Uri said, pointing to a seat near the desk. He smiled briefly and utterly falsely before turning to the next person in line who did get the clipboard and pile of forms.

Draco was too nervous to sit, standing in front of the chair until a harried older woman showed up, Uri pointing her over to Draco.

"Florence Waters, head of Administration, you can brew potions?" Florence said as soon as she was close enough to be heard. She had short curly hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose that looked like they were from the fifties.

Draco nodded, "Yes-"

"Even if you can't, at this point I'll take anyone who wants to learn," Florence said and waved impatiently for him to follow her, "This way, this way. I'd hire you on the spot, but technically Hubert has to give the okay as the head of the Potion Department," she sighed heavily at this.

They walked deeper into the hospital, past busy spell wards and loud maternity rooms, the noise dropping and the hallways becoming less and less crowded as they went. Until they reached a long stretch of empty hallway where the sharp herbal smell of Hubert's lab announced itself long before they came to the open door.

Florence knocked on the door frame, sticking her head inside and calling, "Hubert! I found you an assistant!"

Hubert was a thin man but tilted to the side like a he was perpetually off-balance. His brown hair streaked was with grey and was thinning on top. Hubert had been very carefully combed long strands of his hair over the bald patch. It somehow was the perfect compliment to his bristly moustache that entirely hid his upper lip.

"I don't need an assistant!" Hubert snapped back.

Florence looked around the lab, which was in a state of utter chaos, with piles of paperwork and jars of ingredients covering every surface and only one of the three large cauldrons bubbling with something inside. She gestured to the whole room with both hands, gave Hubert a stern look and then put her hands on her hips.

"I manage just fine!" Hubert said, moving one listing stack of paper onto another and clearing a single square of space.

"You manage until there's an emergency and you lose a day to brewing something for a patient and then never make it up!" Florence said.

"I will make it up, eventually," Hubert said stubbornly.

"Hire him," Florence said, pointing at Draco.

"Pah, probably useless just like all the others you've brought," Hubert said.

Florence threw up her hands, "I. Don't. Care! Hubert! Even if he can't brew he can clean this mess, help organise! Something!"

"You think you can brew, boy?" Hubert asked.

"Yes," Draco said.

"Brew if peoples lives depend on it?" Hubert pressed.

"No-"

"Hah!" Hubert laughed.

"-because as your junior I wouldn't be in charge of brewing anything of that level," Draco finished.

Florence crossed her arms over her chest, looking smug.

"At least, not without being thoroughly vetted and tested," Draco said, "The reason I wanted to work here was because it's where the most important brewing work is done in this country." he tried not to look around the lab with disappointment.

Hubert caught his mood anyway, a frown pulling his moustache down. He picked up a jar seemingly at random from a crowded workbench, "What's this?"

Draco took it, peering at the crushed plants inside, "Belladonna, leaves and stems."

Hubert grabbed the jar and pushed a different jar of green powder in his hands, "And this?"

"May I open it?" Draco asked.

Hubert nodded, and Draco pulled off the stopper and sniffed, "Powdered chinese chomping cabbage but from the pale colour I would wager its the ones grown in the south of Italy, they're never as potent as the imported ones from South America."

Hubert's frown faded, and he looked around himself, finding a larger jar of something dark and liquid, "Here."

Draco didn't bother peering through the murky liquid, a lot of animal parts preserved in alcohol looked much like this after a few months. He cracked the lid and caught the faintest of smells, quickly screwing it back on as he tried not to gag, "....Dragon liver but I think it's gone off. I wouldn't try brewing with it."

Hubert tried sniffing it himself, coughed hoarsely and quickly vanished the jar and its contents.

"Do you have any idea how much dragon liver costs!" Florence said in dismay.

"Need it for burn cures and-"

"Hubert! The young man obviously knows how to make a potion! So just-"

"No," Hubert said stubbornly, "He knows about potion ingredients."

Florence sighed.

"But... it's a good start," Hubert said, "I'll take him on. He might have some potential, I suppose."

"Thank you!" Florence said with utter relief. "Well, let's get the hiring paperwork done, Mr-"

"Draco," Draco said.

"When can you start?" Hubert asked.

"Tomorrow?" Draco said.

"Eight sharp, you can start by cleaning," Hubert said.

Draco nodded and followed Florence back to her office to fill out yet more paperwork.

Two hours later, Draco finally made his way back out to the front waiting room. The lights were dimmer in Florence's small office, and he found himself wincing and blinking in the large bright room.

"Draco? Draco! Hey, uh-"

Draco turned and found Potter. His auror uniform had a large gash on the arm through which blood had seeped into the fabric and was starting to stain a sling supporting his injured arm.

"You're bleeding," Draco said.

"Not much," Potter said.

"Mr Potter," a mediwitch followed on his heels with a stern frown, "We need to remove the curse so we can heal your shoulder."

"It's nearly stopped," Potter added, ignoring the mediwitch and trying to hide a wince of pain.

"You should get treated," Draco said.

"No. I mean, I will. Look I tried to owl you but the owl just, didn't fly? Like it didn't know how to find you?" Potter said.

"Oh," Draco said, a little mystified that even the owls had lost their memory of him. He wondered if they would be able to find him now that he was on the Ministry registers again. "I just moved here."

"Weird though isn't it? I thought all mail owls were enchanted to be able to find anyone," Potter said.

"Mr Potter, please, we need to heal your injury," The mediwitch said impatiently.

"I had to fill in some paperwork with the Ministry, it should be fine now," Draco said evasively. The mediwitch was calling over some other healers to help, "It looks like you're going to be stunned and treated whether you like it or not."

Potter spun to the mediwitch, "I just need a minute, please?"

Draco felt a little dismayed, but Potter had been this insistent before as well. "Will it take long to heal him?" he asked the mediwitch.

"Half an hour at most, if he would just come-" She said.

"Just give me a minute-!" Potter said.

"I'll wait," Draco said.

"What?" Potter spun back around to him.

"I'll wait for you. So go get your arm fixed and quit harassing the staff," Draco said.

"Promise?" Potter asked.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Yes, fine. I promise."

He watched the healers corral Potter into an exam room and then decided to try and find the cafeteria. He waited in line and got two styrofoam cups of hot water, putting teabags in and then adding a touch of sugar and just a splash of milk to both.

When he got back the waiting room, Potter had already been released and was looking around, a distraught expression on his face.

"Potter," Draco called, catching his attention.

"You're here," Potter said and smiled like Draco had given him a gift.

"I promised, didn't I?" Draco said, offering a cup, "I went to get tea."

Potter took the cup and tried to take a sip even though it was still far too hot and burned his tongue.

Draco smiled faintly, "The tea isn't going anywhere."

Potter grinned, "Yeah. I'm too impatient."

Draco would have said, 'just like always' but there was no always, not for Potter.

"Do you wanna take a walk or go somewhere?" Potter asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "You do realise your uniform is currently covered in blood, right?"

Potter looked down at himself, "Oh, right... err..."

Draco snorted in amusement.

Potter smiled sheepishly, "So what were you doing here? You weren't hurt, were you?"

"Unlike some people, no," Draco said, pleased to prompt a laugh from Potter. "I was applying for a job."

Potter blinked, "You're a healer?"

"Not quite that impressive. I'm going to be a potion brewer," Draco said.

"That sounds even more impressive to me, I was always pants at potions," Potter said.

There were yet more things Draco wanted to say, to tease him for blowing up cauldrons, for not always being bad at them in sixth year... Draco grimaced at the memory and raised his cup taking a sip of tea.

"Congrats on getting the job," Potter said.

"Thank you," Draco said.

Potter looked down at his cup, shifting his weight nervously, "So, uh... what do you say about going out for a drink to celebrate?"

"Me getting the job or you not bleeding to death?" Draco asked.

Potter laughed. "Both? I have the rest of the day off."

"Don't you have reports to write?" Draco asked.

"Tomorrow," Potter said, "We always get the rest of the day off after getting injured."

Draco hesitated, "Well... I need to go shopping."

"Oh," Potter's face fell.

"Because I've just moved," Draco said, "I need, everything..."

"Oh, yeah..." Potter said weakly, "Makes sense."

Draco frowned in confusion as he studied Potter's expression. "Would you like to come?" he didn't know why he offered. Perhaps pity, perhaps simply for the novelty of having Potter's attention.

Potter blinked, "You wouldn't mind?"

Draco shook his head, "I can't imagine why you would want to, but no, I wouldn't mind."

Potter grinned, "Alright, yeah, yeah, I'd love to come- to help, to- to, uh, chat..." he ducked his head, looking embarrassed.

"Smooth," Draco said.

Potter laughed awkwardly.

"Well, you need to change into something not covered in your own blood. And I need to stop by the bank. Shall we meet outside the Leaky in an hour?" Draco suggested.

Potter nodded, "Yeah! Sounds great! I'll see you there."