Original Sinn

WRITTEN FOR THE TWO BROOMSTICKS FIC-A-THON

Summary: Harry and Draco had a mission. It was simple. Find out who stole the artefact, and get it back from the Muggle fencing it. Not as simple as it sounds, when you both hate each other with a passion, and the Muggle starts falling for your straight partner, who you need to help handle the Muggle Gay Scene. And what happens when you start falling for him too?

Warnings: Some swearing, and fairly graphic sex (posted off-site). There will be pre-chapter warnings when the time arises. Post-HPB. Multi-chapter...around seven or so.

Prompt: HP/DM. "Everything is working out according to the plan and that IS the effing problem!!" Post-war. Harry and Draco are Aurors/cops and have to work on a mission together. Part of said mission consists in catching some bad guy to get something from him. In order to do so, it is decided that Harry would seduce him and gain his trust. The guy starts falling for Harry, but he's not the only one... Draco does too. How will he deal with the newfound attraction?

~~~~~

Chapter I - Pride

~~~~~

"You're joking, right, McGuire?"

"I'm afraid not, Harry. I do wish it could be another way, but he's the only one available. Besides, his...preferences might come in handy," Harry's superior in the Auror offices, Patterson McGuire, informed him, giving Harry a sympathetic but stern look.

Harry closed his eyes as if in pain, his brow furrowing. "But Patt, please, you know how well we don't get on. We never have. This assignment's going to be a disaster if you put the two of us together for however long it'll take to get this artefact back."

Patterson, who was nary five years Harry's senior cast a fatherly look at his most accomplished Auror. He'd been working with Harry for almost four years now, and while Harry was certainly not a teenager anymore, and he was more than capable in the field, Patterson still felt as if he had to conduct parts of his office as if he were watching a playpen full of five-year olds.

"Harry, don't you think it's time to move past your history with him?"

Harry sighed heavily, and tilted his head back in the armchair he was sitting in. "Well, yes, I do. But it's not anything specific, Patt. Really. We just rub each other the wrong way. I accept him now; as one of us. I get it, and I believe him. After sixth year..." Harry waved a hand in a lazy, all-encompassing motion, "I've seen him differently. But still...that doesn't change the fact that's he's an overbearing, pompous, self-absorbed, poncy git."

"How am I pompous and self-absorbed, Potter? I'm not the one that struts around this office, claiming even more spectacular feats everyday. I just do my job; you get favours."

Harry stood and spun around quickly. "Do I need to remind you of how many times I've nearly died, Malfoy? And I noticed that you didn't refute the allegations that you're overbearing and poncy," he added with a curling of his lip.

Draco Malfoy stood in Patterson's doorway and sneered. He opened his mouth to reply but Patterson cut him off.

"Gentlemen, stop. Sit down. I still need to give you both the particulars."

With hard glares at each other, Draco moved forward and took the second armchair, while Harry resumed his seat, crossing his arms quite petulantly.

Patterson huffed and shut his door firmly with a swish of his wand. "You two are like bloody children."

Harry's glare softened slightly, and he relaxed into a professional demeanour, sitting up straighter to better pay attention to McGuire. Malfoy's slouch also straightened, and both men listened intently as their boss laid out their newest assignment.

"Okay guys, here's the deal. Someone, most definitely from the inside, has stolen a very sensitive artefact from the Department of Mysteries. Unfortunately, we don't know who. However, we know that a Muggle by the name of Sameson James that has been fencing the artefact; but has been unable to fetch a price for it. We don't know how this artefact got into his possession, nor do we know if he knows what it truly does. I need you two to interrogate this guy without suspicion. And we need to know who gave it to him; we most likely have a mole, and rather than start interrogating the whole department, we'd rather lay low and see if we can't catch this guy before he takes off and goes into hiding and we can't track him. Catch him off-guard in other words."

"What's the artefact?" Malfoy asked. "I'm assuming we need to get the artefact back if it's this sensitive an object."

McGuire nodded his assent. "Yes, you need to get the artefact back as well. To avoid alerting the perpetrator, I have no documentation on the object. But the verbal description is this: a small spherical object made of mixed metals and gems. Changes colour constantly."

"That's it?" Harry asked. "That's all we have to go on?"

"Yes. But you guys will know it when you see it. It apparently has more magical energy than most wizards." Patterson leaned forward. "I can't stress how important and sensitive this object is. You must get it back."

"What does it do?"

Patterson seemed to measure his words before replying: "With the right commands, it steals the Earth's natural magic and makes a Muggle a magical being."

There was a heavy silence for a moment, until Malfoy blurted out, "It turns Muggles into Wizards?"

"That is correct. And vice versa if a Wizard has a nasty vendetta against you."

"Jesus..." Harry breathed.

"Your Muggle God won't save you on this one, Potter."

"I'm not religious, Malfoy. It's a fucking expression."

"Whatever."

"You mentioned Malfoy's...preferences, Patterson," Harry said with a dubious glare in the blonde's direction.

"Do you have a problem with my 'preferences', Potter?" Malfoy asked with a sneer.

"No," he replied. "I'm just wondering what it has to do with this particular case."

"The Muggle, James, was seen walking into a gay bar by the same person he tried to fence the artefact to."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Was this person Mundungus Fletcher?"

Patterson smirked. "Indeed. Thankfully, Mundungus knew we were looking to find out who gave it to him, and rather than buy it, he followed him. He actually approached James about any goods he had, just to make sure he still had it. Anyhow, Mr. Malfoy's take on things might come in useful. There might be an in there."

"We'll see," Harry muttered, which earned him a glare.

"I don't want to be in the situation any more than you, Potter, so shove it."

"Stop being such a pansy."

"Boys!" Patterson barked. When both men sat back and weren't glaring at one another, Patterson continued. "I expect you both to work together on this one, regardless of your animosities. I mean it. You two are in the top five, and I can't have this assignment botched, do you understand?" He waited until they both nodded their understanding. "The balance of the Earth's magic rests on this. You'll find folders with the details of his whereabouts on your desks. You are dismissed. Good day."

"Good day, Patt," said Harry.

"Goodbye, sir," Malfoy murmured.

Both men left the office, shutting the door behind them.

"I hate you, Potter."

"Likewise, Malfoy."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning. Early," Malfoy said as he walked towards his desk.

Harry rolled his eyes. "At your command, Master Malfoy." And then he worked his way to his own desk on the other side of the office.

~~~~~

Today was not a good day for Harry Potter.

In fact, he was pretty sure that because he was Harry Potter, he was meant to have a bad day. Perhaps if he had been someone else, he could have had a normal day. Even a good one.

But fate had landed him here, stuck in a Muggle hotel room with Draco Malfoy, the person most likely to annoy him for all eternity.

"Potter, this is my bed, you got it? I don't want you touching my things."

"Jesus Christ, Malfoy. Get a grip. I don't want to touch your things."

"And I get the first shower. Every morning."

"Whatever."

"You don't snore, do you?" Malfoy eyed Harry suspiciously, as if he'd fall into a snoring comatose any second.

"No. Do you?"

Malfoy scoffed. "Of course not. I am quite a bit more dignified than you. Malfoys don't snore."

"I doubt that."

"Shut up, Potter."

"I will if you will, Malfoy."

"I told you to first."

Oh, this was going to be a long couple of weeks.

~~~~~

"There's our guy."

"How do you know?"

"I just do, Potter, stop arguing with me."

Harry sighed, and gazed back through his omnioculars to Sameson James, a man not much older than he, dressed in a thick black jacket and dark blue jeans. He had dark hair that was falling in his eyes but cropped close in the back, and a nose that was almost as sharp and pointy as Malfoy's, with a chin to match. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that the man's eyes were practically black, Harry would have thought he was staring at an older Malfoy, with dyed hair.

"He looks like you," Harry muttered unconsciously.

"What?" Malfoy snapped. "Are you comparing me to a Muggle, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Not really. You just have the same kind of poke-your-eyes-out kind of face."

"Fuck you, Potter," Malfoy spat, standing from his crouch on the roof next to Harry and walking back to the propped open roof access door, only to let it fall completely shut behind him.

Harry sighed again, and turned back to watching their man. He was talking on a mobile, standing in front of a flower shop on the corner, and generally glaring at everything around him. He didn't seem to be carrying anything spherical, Harry thought, but then again, Harry still didn't know how big this thing was. "Small" could mean that it was the size of a pin-head or it could mean it wasn't so big you couldn't pick it up. Harry watched as Sameson pulled a pack of fags out of his inside jacket pocket and lit one, pulling in a long drag before barking something to whoever he was talking to and snapping his mobile closed.

He seemed like a lovely chap.

Harry put his omnioculars away and left the roof, smirking at Malfoy's obvious but sorry attempt to keep him up on the roof. It probably had more to do with the symbolism of locking him up there rather than actually doing it, Harry mused as he charmed the door unlocked and went down the stairs in search for his...ugh, partner.

~~~~~

"I think we should go."

"We? Why we?"

"Well, why are there two of us at all, Potter? Because I certainly have no problems with trying to navigate the Muggle Gay Scene. But poor, innocent, straight you...yes, you might be gobbled up by some bear with a bondage fetish. That's what you're afraid of, isn't it?"

"It is not!" Harry exclaimed quickly.

"Ah...so quick to answer.... I'd rather like to think you are."

"Oh, shove off, Malfoy."

Malfoy sat down on his own bed, across from Harry. They had been staking out their man for two days, and had used some Extendable Ears to find out that he was going to a club called "Original Sinn" that evening, and Malfoy was now trying to talk Harry into going.

"Look, Potter. The reason there's two of us is in case something goes wrong. We don't know what this guy might be capable of, and I'd prefer some back-up in case he thinks he can just pick me up and walk all over me."

"Wow, Malfoy, asking for help? For Merlin sakes, you're a wizard; you can defend yourself."

"Not from bullets, Potter."

That made Harry pause for a moment. "Okay. Fine. But I'm not dressing up all..." He made a vague gesture which Malfoy took to mean "flamboyant".

"Fine then. You can come as my straight friend who has nothing better to do on a Friday night but hang out with the gay boys at the gay clubs. Or, you can be the awkward twink in the corner who's just come out." Harry watched as Malfoy stood and moved towards his chest of drawers and started pulling out garments and inspecting them.

"Being your 'friend' will have to suffice, I guess."

"Hm."

"Hey Malfoy?" Harry asked as the blond moved to the bathroom.

"What?"

"How is it you know so much about Muggle gay culture? I thought you hated Muggles."

"I do, Potter. But if I want a nameless and easy fuck, it's better to find a Muggle. They're gullible and stupid. Not to mention that there really isn't a gay scene in the Wizarding World at all."

"Oh." Pause. "Hey Malfoy?"

"What is it, Potter?"

"If you hate Muggles, why do you have sex with them?"

There was a long suffering sigh. "Because, Potter, they're easy, and not all of them are horrible looking or bad in bed."

"Are there any wizards you haven't slept with yet?"

Malfoy poked his head out of the door. "Potter, are you dim, stupid, or just so full of yourself you can't see what's around you?"

"Er..."

"There isn't a gay Wizarding scene. Being gay isn't accepted there. And thank Merlin my father and mother are dead, because he'd have killed me, and her broken heart would have killed her. Now, are you finished with your asinine questions, so I can get ready?"

"Er, yeah. Go ahead."

Harry sat there and mused on the information that Malfoy had given him. It seemed rather odd that Malfoy would talk about his parents at all; especially to Harry, but now Harry knew why Malfoy seemed to know so much about the gay Muggle scene.

What seemed like hours later, Malfoy finally came out of the bathroom, a creamy hotel towel around his waist and another wrapped around his head. Harry cocked an eyebrow at him, thinking that the blond hadn't much more hair than him, and that he hardly needed to put his hair up like a girl.

"Your turn, Potter. Don't take too long. I still need to do my hair and set up our com spell."

"Com spell?"

"Yeah. The spell I created that allows us to communicate without the use of those Muggle contraptions that go in our ears."

"You mean, the standard com spell? You created that?"

"Yes, of course. Now stop wasting time. Go clean yourself."

Harry huffed. "It's not like I'm dirty."

"You might as well be. I'm going through your stuff to find you something to wear," Malfoy called as Harry shut the door. The brunet opened the door back up and asked flatly,

"What."

"I'm going to try and find something suitable for you to wear tonight," Malfoy said with a tone that said that it most likely that Harry would have to go naked, for nothing the man would own would ever be up to Malfoy's standards.

Harry's eyes flicked down to the silvery scar marring Malfoy's chest. "Fine," he bit out. "Just...don't throw anything away."

"I'll try my hardest not to touch your undies, Potter, don't worry."

With one final glare, Harry went back into the bathroom and emerged fifteen minutes later to a disaster area of clothes.

"Malfoy, what-"

"Don't move, Potter! You're about to upset my sorting!"

"Your--what?"

"My sorted piles. You're practically standing on 'Completely and Utterly Disgusting'."

"And that pile over there?" Harry asked, pointing to a heap on his bed with the hand that wasn't holding up his dirty clothes along with the towel around his waist.

"Not Suitable Even for Disposal."

"Jesus, Malfoy. You are a Complete and Utter Prat."

"Ha, Potter." Malfoy, who was still dressed in only a towel, gestured to the piles around the room. "I think I may need to pick something and modify it. Easier than conjuring at any rate." He picked at a grey t-shirt of Harry's. "I think...something with a collar...and a bit shinier..." As he said the words, he waved his wand over the garment and the shirt gained a collar and a silver sheen. "Oh, and I can't forget the buttons." And shiny buttons appeared along the front and it split down the middle.

"Here," Malfoy said, thrusting the now improved shirt in Harry's direction, "put this on. Wear that black t-shirt under it, with those black jeans I put on your pillow, and...this belt." Malfoy tossed a black belt with a silver Union Jack buckle at Harry, who caught it, but wound up dropping the clothes he was trying to keep a hold of. "Be careful with that belt, Potter. It's mine, and I am only letting you borrow it because your wardrobe is ridiculously pathetic."

"Yes, Malfoy," Harry replied with a condescending tone.

Malfoy grabbed a few garments of his own and disappeared into the bathroom, emerging fifteen minutes later with his hair dried, and wearing what could only be described in Harry's mind as "whoa".

Malfoy had on black jeans, similar to Harry's own - a little baggy but straight legged - and a tight, sleeveless black shirt, that shimmered blue when he turned in the light. His hair was loose in his eyes, and swung above his ears, accenting his grey eyes and his sharp eyebrows. He had on no belt, and it was easy to see that he had on no underwear either.

"Whoa, Malfoy," Harry said, reflecting his thoughts. "I don't think I've ever seen you in anything but baggy robes..."

"Yes, Potter, I'm hot. I know this. Stop ogling me."

Harry frowned. "Just trying to pay a compliment..."

Malfoy remained silent.

"Malfoy, are you ready to go?"

Malfoy turned and glared, then pointed his wand at Harry's head and whispered the spell to activate the two-way com, before connecting the spell back to himself.

"You've seen me in Muggle's clothes before, Potter," Malfoy said as he grabbed a leather jacket and made for the door.

"Well, yeah, but only these past few days. And you've been wearing slacks and dress shirts. Hardly close to what you're wearing now."

"I expect to turn some heads tonight, Potter. Let's go."

Harry grabbed his own jacket, and they left their hotel room and caught a cab to the club.

When they got there, there was an obvious line to get in. The neon blue sign stating "Original Sinn" was shining dull light over everyone, turning their skin an icy shade. Malfoy got out the cab, waited for Harry to pay the fare, then marched right past the line and to the large black bouncer at the front.

"Evening," he said, with all the air of someone who was used to getting what he wanted. Which, he probably was.

The bouncer looked at him and said in a deep baritone, "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Malfoy said, and he shifted his arm. "We'd like to be let in. Now."

The large man looked as though he was about to protest, but then he blinked and said, "Yes, sirs. Please, go ahead."

Malfoy smiled charmingly, and Harry followed behind, looking shocked.

"You used Imperius on him!" Harry whispered hotly as they shoved their way inside amongst angry shouts from the line behind them.

"Anything to get the job done, Potter. If I hadn't, we'd've been outside for hours, and probably would have missed our man."

"Who says he's already in here?" Harry yelled over the thumping music.

"Because he's sitting at the bar. Just over there." And Malfoy pointed as he checked his jacket in. Harry followed suit, and looked over to where James was sitting.

He was dressed in all black - as always, it seemed over the past few days - and was at the bar, nursing a beer. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to the people around him. Which, also seemed to be the usual.

Harry and Malfoy stood at the top of a short set of stairs, leading down into the dance floor. Straight next to them, the bar stretched out, circling half the dance floor, with the same three steps leading down. Far in the back, on the opposite side, Harry saw booths and small tables filled with people, laughing, and drinking, and watching the dancers. The place was dark, but there were splashes of coloured light moving all over the walls and ceiling, and the same neon blue from outside was lighting the steps.

Harry looked around the club, and it was full to the brim already with people of all kinds. Mainly scantily clad young men, writhing around and up against each other; and a few men in tasteful drag, talking up the lesbians and the pretty boys hanging around them. The rest were lurkers, Harry thought, dark people hiding in the shadows, watching the happenings with detached or lustful eyes, and Harry avoided looking at them for too long.

Malfoy cocked his head towards the back of the club. "Go catch us a table. I'm going to get drinks." And he sauntered off towards the bar.

"Malfoy! Wait, Malfoy! Are you going to talk to him? Hey Malfoy!" But Malfoy kept walking as if he didn't hear him. "Do you even know what I like to drink?" Harry yelled, huffing. Glaring at the blonde's back, he stepped down into the dancing area, manoeuvring around the edge to the tables in the back. Luckily (very, it seemed), there was a tall pub table with two chairs waiting to be occupied, with a few left over drinks abandoned for the dance floor. Harry pushed the glasses to one side, and sat down, leaning on the table and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Now that Harry was sitting down and no longer trying to follow Malfoy, he noticed just how uncomfortable he was. Harry didn't know anyone who was gay besides Malfoy, and hadn't the slightest idea of how to act in a gay bar, or around so many gay people. A few of which were eyeing him as if he were fresh meat. There was a particularly ugly-looking bloke, who was obviously a lurker, an older guy, who, by Harry's guess, probably got his jollies by watching the young and beautiful gyrate on the floor, all sweaty and slick. The thought of being watched by him made Harry shudder in revulsion.

Harry couldn't see over the crowd of people dancing, so he was a little surprised when Draco suddenly plopped down next to him with a beer and a Cosmopolitan. He placed the beer in front of Harry, and took a gulp of his Cosmo.

"Aren't those expensive, froo-froo, fairy drinks?" Harry asked, taking a swig of his off-brand beer, wincing at the bitter taste. He wasn't the biggest fan of beer, but this beer really was quite terrible. He'd prefer a nice, smooth, honeyed mead.

"Potter, have you forgotten that I am an expensive, froo-froo fairy?"

"I just expected you to be more of a hard liquor kind of guy."

"I am. I just felt like a froo-froo drink tonight, alright? Just shut up, Potter. You're more useful when you're quiet and you do what I tell you to."

"I'm not just someone you can walk all over, Malfoy."

"Finish your beer, Potter. Then we're going to dance."

"Excuse me?"

Malfoy gulped down the other half of his drink. "We need to get closer to our man. He isn't moving."

"Did you talk to him?"

"No. Tonight I'm just going to observe. See what he drinks, what kinds of guys go up to him, and which ones he responds to. What he's into."

"And I have to go with you why?"

"Because I need you to keep the stalkers at bay."

"The what?"

"The stalkers. The guys who follow you around and try and dance with you regardless of your protests. You, are going to dance with me, and inadvertently fend off the 'stalkers'."

"Dance? Are you crazy? Malfoy, I am not dancing with you."

"Oh, piffle, Potter. You are dancing with me. So deal with it." He grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him off the stool. "But tell me, you can dance, can't you? I do remember that you were absolutely atrocious in fourth year at the Yule Ball."

Harry tried to yank his hand away and wound up grabbing onto Malfoy's wrist so as not to get torn away from him as they squeezed through all the people dancing. "Malfoy! Wait! I'm not - I can't-"

Malfoy pulled hard on Harry's wrist, swinging him around until he was in front of the blond, and then wrapped his arms around Harry's neck. Harry jerked away, saying, "Malfoy, it's called personal space."

"I don't want to hear it, Potter. Just grab onto my waist and let me lead."

"We're not ballroom dancing, Malfoy."

"No. We're not." Malfoy said, then leaned forward and put his head next to Harry's. "I'm not going to get hard over you, Potter. Now, turn."

"What?"

"Turn, Potter." And Malfoy pushed his elbow against Harry's shoulder to get him to turn so Malfoy could look over his shoulder.

Harry as good as growled in Malfoy's ear and tentatively put his hands on Malfoy's hips. "You're taller than me, you know. This looks odd."

"Fine. You wanna be the girl? Here," Then Malfoy shoved his arms underneath Harry's and pushed them up to his shoulders, then wrapped his arms around Harry's waist.

"Ack! Malfoy! That wasn't what I meant!" Harry exclaimed as Malfoy moved them with the rhythm of the song's fast beat.

"Look, Potter, I'm trying to watch our guy while pretending to not look like I'm watching him. So just shut up and do as I tell you. Or, you can go back to the hotel."

Harry glared up at the annoying blond prat. "I think I will." Then Harry pulled himself out of Malfoy's arms and left the club, getting his jacket on the way out.

~~~~~

Once outside in the fresh air, Harry was immediately overcome with a sense of nausea, and ducked into the closest alley, leaning against the dank wall to steady himself. Taking deep lungfuls of air, he pushed the nausea down and tried not to scream in frustration.

What was wrong with him? Why was he letting the situation get to him? And why oh why was he letting Malfoy of all people push him around?

He thought about the club - all the men looking at him, and the way Malfoy just assumed that he'd be okay being there, dancing with him - he was straight, and he didn't know that many gay people, and he'd never been around that many...

The nausea took over and Harry found himself being sick behind the closest dumpster.

Wiping his chin, he Apparated back to the hotel room, intent on washing every uncomfortable thing away with a hot shower.

~~~~~

"Potter. Hey, Potter. Are you still on com? You'd better be listening, because I'm only going to say this once."

Harry jumped when Malfoy's voice spoke calmly into his ear as he was rinsing the shampoo out of his hair in the shower a few minutes later.

"Well, fine. I realise you probably don't want to talk. I'm not the talking sort myself. But, well, I apologise. For dragging you into a situation you probably weren't very keen on being in."

Harry took a deep breath as he listened, standing idle under the hot spray.

"I...I remember coming out to my friends just after the war. I thought maybe that I would marry Pansy Parkinson. Do you remember her? But something happened. Something changed. I won't tell you what. But I had to tell people. That was uncomfortable. And I'm sure you know I don't like being uncomfortable. I tend to lash out. So. I'm sorry for making you feel anywhere near as uncomfortable as I had to be when I realised I was gay."

Biting his lip, Harry reached for his conditioner.

"There. Don't expect me to like you any greater than I already don't. And don't mention this conversation to me. Unless I start it. I'll see you later."

There was a little 'pop', and Harry heard Malfoy end the com spell from his side. Harry wondered why Malfoy was still at the club at all, because he could hear the thump of the music in the background. Probably found some "twink", as he put it, to de-virginize then leave memory-less. Bloody, blond bastard.

~~~~~

Harry was lying in bed trying unsuccessfully to sleep when the key-card to the room clicked and the door opened quietly, and then there was a bright sliver of light before it shut just as quietly.

Harry lay there, stiff as a board, breathing shallowly as he listened to Malfoy stripping off his clothes and going into the bathroom to take a shower.

Much later, Malfoy emerged, steam billowing into the room, before the light went off and Harry heard Malfoy crawl into the bed next to him.

"Thank you," he whispered.

He heard Malfoy pause in his shifting. "You're welcome, Potter."

Harry finally closed his eyes, feeling that resisting sleep finally come to him.

"But I told you not to bring it up."

Harry chuckled under his breath. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

"Yeah. 'Night, Potter."

~~~~~

"I'm going to Sinn again. Yeah, tonight. And no, I haven't fetched a price. I'll get one, I swear. People are just wary, you know? They don't know what it is, and they don't really believe me. Yes, I had to tell them. Look, I'm putting my rep on the line, here! If you want out of whatever the hell you want to call yourself, and you want the real money to do it, then you have to go through me, and we're doing it my way. Got it?"

Sameson James flipped his mobile closed and shoved it in his pocket. It was two days later on a Saturday night and he was sitting in Ed's Easy American-themed diner in Soho, a few booths away from the Auror pair, waiting for a burger with cheesy fries and sipping on a thick strawberry shake.

Draco sipped on his own chocolate shake and nodded past Potter's shoulder to James. "You heard that, right? He's going to Sinn again. Should I fly solo?"

Potter finished off his burger. "No. I'll - I'll go. Just...let me actually be the straight friend this time, okay? No leaving me to fend for myself, and no dancing."

"Yes, Potter. I'll keep your sorry little straight virginity intact."

Potter glared. "Why must you be such an ass, Malfoy?"

Draco smiled around the chocolaty goodness in his mouth. "You like me being an ass."

"I'm used to you being an ass." He finished off his coke and grabbed the ticket. "Let's go. I'll pay."

"I'll not have you paying my bills, Potter."

"You can spot me for drinks tonight. And get me a better beer this time. Or better yet, one of your expensive, froo-froo, fairy drinks."

"Ha, ha. You are your own brand of fairy, you know that?"

"Shove off, Malfoy."

"I do wish I could, Potter. I really wish I could."

"Me too, Malfoy."

~~~~~

Draco checked himself in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Yep, he looked hot. Hot enough to snag the dark-haired, black-wearing psychopath that he and Potter were tracking. So hot that Harry-Fucking-Potter was ogling him again when he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Tongue in your mouth, Potter. You're drooling."

Potter's mouth snapped shut. "Whatever, Malfoy. You wish I was looking at you."

"Are we back to twelve-year-old comebacks? Because I can pull one out, if your tiny brain requires it."

"Really, Malfoy. Shut up. You think after almost a week we could get along just a bit better. I mean, the other night, you were actually apologising to me. I was shocked. I was also naked. In the shower. And no, that doesn't give you the right to have mental pictures."

"Ooh, much better comeback, Potter. And thanks for the warning. I really didn't want the mental images anyway. And I told you not to mention that. Ever. So don't."

"Right-o Captain." Potter saluted him in mockery.

"I am not one of the Village People, Potter. Get over it."

"Ha. Let's go."

"Not so fast. Let me check your outfit."

Potter rolled his eyes and stood there, waiting for the 'okay' from Draco. He was wearing an ensemble similar to his last, but with a matte black over shirt and a green under. His belt was changed out for a simple black leather, and his hair actually managed some semblance to "sexily tousled"; assuming Potter had ever lost his cherry.

Draco nodded his approval. "Alright. You look the same as you did last time. But that's fine. You're not going to impress anybody. Ready for com?"

With another roll of his eyes, Potter nodded. "Yeah, sure. I'm just going to watch from the background, alright? Just don't...go into the bathroom with him or whatever."

"Hey - that might be his thing, not mine. I might not even be able to get an in here, okay? I may have to switch tracks and pose as a buyer real quick. Though I'd rather do that and just catch the loser before I have to shag him to get the information, but nothing's ever easy, is it?"

"Certainly not this assignment."

"But look at it this way, Potter. At least you won't almost die," Draco said with a sweet smile as he pointed his wand at Harry's head.

"Oh, yes. Dodge death for the millionth time or go to gay clubs with you. Wonderful choice in options."

"You have gotten much too cocky in your old age, Potter."

"Old? You're almost two months older than me. What does that make you?"

"Just shut up."

~~~~~

The club was thumbing and much more crowded than Thursday night, and Harry felt obligated to turn his head when Malfoy charmed the bouncer again. He was surprised that the blond didn't just use Veritaserum on James to get him to talk. It wouldn't be hard to slip it into a drink when he wasn't looking. Probably wanted to get laid by whoever he could, thought Harry.

They found James sitting at the bar again, on the far side near the other tables and booths. Harry made Malfoy pay for his beer before snagging a short table at the edge of the crowd, so he could watch Malfoy's progress. Malfoy circled through the bar, making his way down to their man. When he reached him, he got a strange, predatory look in his eye, and to Harry, it definitely looked strange.

At least now I know what he looks like in case he ever starts cruising me.

"Hi. Can I buy you another beer?" Harry heard Malfoy say through the com spell, as he leaned on the bar next to James.

"You could, but it won't do you much good."

"Oh? Do you have a boyfriend or something?"

"No, but you're not my type."

"How do you know that? I could be the man of your dreams. Your soulmate even."

Oh, Malfoy, don't make me gag. Soulmate? Please.

"No, I really don't think so. I don't like blonds."

Ouch.

"Would you like to dance?"

"Huh?"

Harry looked up to see a rather charming topless boy standing in front of him holding out his hand.

"Oh, er...no thanks. I'm straight."

The boy looked at him with quite a bit of confusion. "Then why are you in a gay bar?"

"My friend. He's gay. He went to go get himself a drink."

"Really? Because I saw you sit down, and you've been all alone this whole time. This your first time coming here?"

"No! I mean...He's taken me here before. Really. He's at the bar. I think he got lost. He's that blond, right over there." Harry pointed out Malfoy, who, if he caught the last bit of conversation correctly, was trying unsuccessfully to get James to dance with him. Ugh. "He's a horrible flirter," Harry said, thinking he was probably telling the truth. "I think he brings me here to torture me and turn me gay or something." Well, that was definitely telling the truth.

The boy shrugged. "Well, I'm sorry to hear you're not one of us. You're awfully cute." He put his arms on the table and leaned in close. "Especially with those bookish glasses." He cocked his head in an endearing way then straightened. "If you change your mind...I'll be right over there." And he nodded towards a table on the other side of the dance floor.

"Er...yeah. I will. I mean, if I do." Holy crap! I was just hit on by a boy! I'm definitely not telling Malfoy. He'll never let me live it down.

"Are you sure I can't die my hair and change your mind?" Harry heard Malfoy say once he'd tuned back in.

James chuckled. "No, I'm sure. Besides, you look good as a blond. You're just not my type."

"Well, you can't say I didn't try. And don't worry, you can keep the beer." Harry glanced over and saw Draco leave James with a smile, heading in the opposite direction towards the front of the club.

"Potter," Harry heard in his ear. "Meet me in the loo in two minutes. I need to talk to you."

"You're talking to me now, Malfoy," Harry whispered, taking a swig of his beer to cover it up.

"In person. Now."

"I'm not going into the loo with you."

"I'm not playing, Potter. You missed something. Don't think I didn't hear your own little exchange with that topless twink."

Damn.

"Okay. Fine. I'll be there in a minute."

Harry stood and made his way to the toilet, shoving past people, and passing his topless encounter standing next to a booth full of other topless twinks, and felt the boy's eyes follow him all the way to the loo.

Nervously, he dodged two men coming out and slipped inside, his stomach dropping as he heard a few sighs and heady moans coming from the stalls. Oh, he was going to be sick.

"I'm in the last stall."

Harry moved to the last stall in the row and knocked hesitantly on the door. It opened, and Harry saw Malfoy's face and gratefully ducked inside.

Malfoy waved his arm and provided an Imperturbable charm to their stall. No one would hear, and no one could get in.

"You have to do it, Potter."

"Excuse me? Do what?"

"Get in with James."

Harry stared at Malfoy. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"You didn't hear him, Potter. He likes brunets. He's going to recognise me if I die my hair. Besides the fact that I already asked if I should."

"You could use some glamour charms, Malfoy."

"No, Potter, I can't. You know as well as I do that glamour charms only work for so long, and they're dependent on the caster's strength and ability. I can't keep that many spells up that long, and you're crap at charms."

"I am not."

"Even so. If James already knows Wizards exists, it's not going to be that hard to for him to see through it. And Polyjuice only lasts an hour at a time. We both need to be alert. We can't be constantly using charms. They'll drain us and we need to focus on getting the information and the artefact back fast. I'll talk you through everything. Tell you what to say. What to do. I promise."

"Malfoy, I'm not going to play gay for you. We can use Muggle methods. We can get some hair dye, and maybe some prosthetics-"

"Potter, you're not listening to me. Do you know how to use that stuff? Let's just do this my way, okay?"

"No, Malfoy, I don't think you're listening to me. I can't do this. I won't. I. Am. Not. Gay. And I will not be gay, even for this case."

"Potter, please. It's just pretending. You...could be a prude. I'm not asking you to have sex with him. Just...I don't know, get to know him, be his friend. If he hits on you, let him kiss you. That's it. Do only what you feel comfortable with. That's a given, even for me."

Harry stared, or rather, glared at Malfoy. For a very long time.

"Potter, I don't mean to break this special eye-lock thing we've got going on here, but we're wasting time. We have to start this tonight."

Harry closed his eyes. "I really hate you."

"I'll help you with everything. I'll be in your ear the whole time."

"Oh, yes. That gives me so much comfort."

"Oh, hush. Just think - you can catch all the glory for this one too."

"And go down as the man Draco Malfoy could make gay. Don't you ever think that maybe I don't like getting the so-called glory for every case I'm on? Argh! You're just so infuriating."

Malfoy sighed. "But you'll do it?"

"Yes, fine! Let's just get this over with." Harry turned to leave the grungy stall.

"Wait a minute. We still have to cover your scar."

"Why? I thought you said no glamours?"

"I'll use a small one. One I can control so you don't have to. It'll be small enough that I can keep it up whenever you're in his company."

"Just do it."

~~~~~

Draco practically had to shove Potter out of the loo. He could see that his hands were sweating, and he was sure he was going to hyperventilate any second.

"Breathe, Potter. Relax. You have to be at least semi-comfortable, here."

"There's nothing comfortable about this, Malfoy."

"Look, I gave you the money. When you get to him, sit down on the stool next to him, and offer to buy him a drink."

"How do I do that?"

"Did you listen to me earlier?" Draco sighed heavily as he made his way to a dark corner to watch, putting up an Imperturbable charm just so he wouldn't be bothered, but so he could still watch Potter and James. "Say, 'Hello, could I buy you a drink?' It's that simple. Strike up small talk like you would with any other guy. Find a common interest. Maybe that Muggle Football thing?"

"Okay, okay. I gotcha. If you keep yakking in my ear, I might not be able to do this."

"You wanted my help, Potter."

"No, I think you wanted mine."

"Whatever."

Draco watched Harry edge towards his target. Merlin, he was really nervous.

"Potter, wipe your hands on your jeans. You don't want to be all sweaty."

"Shove off, Malfoy."

"Again, helping here."

He heard Potter sigh, and then saw him approach his subject. He was lucky; as he walked up, two women left the bar with drinks, providing Potter with a perfect spot to sit down next to the unmoving man in black. Why was James even here?

Potter cleared his throat. "Um...could I - could I buy you a drink?"

James turned and looked over at Potter, who blushed, looked down at his fidgeting hands, and glanced back up. Nice, Potter, if he likes the insecure type. Maybe I was too cocky. Possibly. Not really. Never.

"You're the second guy tonight," James replied.

"Am I? Well...er...I'm sorry to bother you then..." Potter started to stand.

"Don't you dare stand up, Potter, or I will publicly boil your blood with my favourite curse from the war," Draco whispered ferociously into Potter's ear.

But it seemed he needn't have worried. James stopped Potter with a hand on his arm.

"No, it's okay. That guy wasn't my type."

Potter blushed darker. "Oh. And I am, I take it?"

James smiled. "Sameson James. What's your name?"

"Harry Potter."

"Well, Harry. Feel free to buy away. I tend to stay a while."

"How long is 'a while'?"

James smiled. "Until I find something I like."

~~~~~