Queer & There

Chapter Four
Real Estate And A Real Bastard

Despite having the very distinct urge to scream immediately after hearing the answer phone message on Dom Willick's machine, Draco had called up again some hours later and made an appointment with the man himself at four pm the next day. He hadn't yet spoken to Dom Willick, but Draco was almost certain he was going to be an utter bastard. A name like that certainly seemed to indicate high on the idiot meter, anyway.

Draco, however, was in desperate need of a place to stay, and as much as he might be a bastard or an idiot (or all the other things Draco had mentally assumed he probably was if he was in a relationship with Harry Potter), this seemed like his best bet to find a new flat.

His current flat was starting to do less and less for him now, Draco had noted, and when it did co-operate, it did so in a far less attentive and persistent way. Draco was starting to get very annoyed, as he kept finding his clothes creased in messy piles, or that his plates had cracks in them after being washed up. The fact that it was only Sunday and he had another six days of this did not do anything to make him feel better.

Fabos had been back that morning with an owl from his mother that simply said - Found a lovely apricot and cherry cake for this afternoon - will be over at about one. Draco had taken the note with much disinterest and as a result, been given both a sharp peck and the cold shoulder by the little brown owl, who was turning into as much of a brat as Narcissa herself. It more or less was acting like a stupid little girl, which Draco took an immediate dislike to, because Fabos was a boy.

Originally, Fabos was going to be his owl, and Draco did use him quite frequently to send messages, but instead of living with Draco at Peaceful Block, they had decided between them (well, as much as an owl really could give feedback on decisions) that Fabos would stay with Narcissa and simply visit everyday to see if Draco needed mail sent. This wasn't a very regular occasion, and so Fabos often grew bored. Draco would not have cared about or even noticed this if his mother didn't tell him on a regular basis, or if the owl didn't become more and more childish every time he dropped by.

After Fabos had suitably tried to peck out Draco's eyes, left the note and then made his best attempt at a dignified exit, Draco got dressed in his nicest clean cut white shirt and his 'responsible' dark grey trousers that made him look like both a good son and a good sort of person to lease an apartment to. It also gave the desired of effect of 'I'm sexier than you, Dom Willick, and I know it', which Draco for some reason found was an absolute necessity, but couldn't really pinpoint why.

He then styled his hair in the same way as he did every day, and as usual, this job alone took a good half an hour. Draco liked to get the front just perfect, and this was time consuming, as was his concern to get the sides and back just as flawless. In fact, Draco's hair was very important to him. Being gifted with very sexy hair was something he supposed he could thank his father for, but he didn't like to and so generally just concentrated on getting it to look utterly fantastic, which it always did.

So, dressed and styled and adorned with a chunky silver chain that was magically enhanced to feel weightless, Draco was surprised when the doorbell rang at 12.35. His mother had a horrible habit of coming earlier than he wanted her to, and today was no exception. At least he could be thankful that he would have to leave in about three hours to get to Dom Willick's office in Ravisham Walkway, which was just off Diagon Alley. Draco knew realistically that it would probably only take a further five minutes to reach it after Floo-ing to Diagon Alley, but he took great pleasure in the fact that his mother didn't.

Narcissa Malfoy was also dressed to the nines, and Draco couldn't help but smirk a bit, because everyday was a fashion parade for his mother, even if all she was doing was visiting her son. She was wearing a fitted cream suit that made her pale hair look even paler, and Draco couldn't help but think that somebody might be experiencing a very late mid-life crisis.

"Draco, darling, tuck your shirt in," was the first thing she said as she sauntered into the apartment in a way that was similar to Draco's, not that he would ever admit it, and she popped the large cake box she was carrying down on the counter in the kitchen. "Really, you look awful. Have you been sleeping properly?"

Draco closed the door behind Narcissa, and then took the moment to frown at her comment, because although he hadn't really been sleeping well, he most certainly did not look awful. "I'm sleeping fine," he lied, to which Narcissa immediately said,

"You are sleeping well, Draco. Honestly, what am I going to do with you?"

Narrowing his eyes a bit when her back was turned to take out the cake (which did look very appetising) Draco pouted and swiftly changed the subject. "I have an appointment today at four o'clock, mother, so I'm afraid we'll have to cut this short at about half three."

"What on earth do you have an appointment for?" Narcissa asked, pausing in her cake cutting to look over at her son with a curious frown. "Do you have a job interview?"

"No," Draco said, and then he remembered his mother didn't actually know that he had been asked to leave his apartment. He had a feeling this was going to be a very long afternoon, and considered throwing himself out of the window very seriously for a good few minutes, before finally adding, "It's with an estate agent, actually. I'm looking for a new apartment."

Narcissa looked bewildered. "Why on Earth would you want a new apartment, darling? This is a lovely place, very modern and spacious, with lovely, friendly neighbours-"

"Well, my lovely friendly neighbours aren't quite so lovely and friendly, actually," Draco started, causing his mother to look suddenly very aware of her son talking, which was more than a little bit off putting, but still he continued, "There was a petition thing, and they'd like me to move out. So really, all I can do is oblige or..."

"Or?" Narcissa's tone was biting, demanding and scary all at the same time.

"Or I'll be a bit homeless," Draco replied in a small voice finally, deciding this was as good a moment as any to seek homage in the living room, where he sat down on the sofa and looked around, wringing his hands nervously. "But it's not really my fault, mother, they're being very mean about it all. I haven't been that disruptive, and for them to say I come home at ridiculous hours every night isn't true either... it's not every night, and it's not really their business, is it?" Narcissa was silent from the kitchen, and so Draco felt he had to echo, "Is it?"

When Narcissa appeared with two generous slices of apricot cherry cake, Draco found himself looking at the clock. Ten minutes had passed, which seemed like no time at all, and it disheartened him impressively. Narcissa was shooting a death glare at the sun, which was apparently in her eyes, and Draco knew this did not bode well.

When she spoke, the voice was just as doom impending as the expression on her face. "I think we need to spend this afternoon having a very long chat, Draco Malfoy."

Because his mother had said it in that tone of voice, Draco knew that if that was what Narcissa thought, then that was what would probably happen, and unfortunately, they did just that.

* * *

Having finally managed to shake off his mother at a quarter to four, Draco had hurried his way to Ravisham Walkway and, after walking past many, many brothels and sex shops, Draco found Dom Willick's office. He was starting to realise why it was called 'Ravisham' Walkway, because apparently this area of Diagon Alley was the very bright red light district.

Draco did not understand exactly why there was an estate agent's office in the middle of a large array of whore houses, but he did not have time to think about it between being a bit late and having a grand total of eleven prostitutes approach him and ask if he was wanting a special service. Draco insisted that no such service was required, and they all walked away muttering something about homosexuality and 'one of Dom's clients', which again, did not go down very well with Draco.

If Dom Willick turned out to be a pimp, he would not be impressed.

And so he found himself rather pleasantly surprised when he walked into the small building with a subtle sign announcing "DW - Houses For You" in small bold black lettering. It seemed to be a nice place, after all (not at all whore-like), with a small front desk with a very polite house plant behind it that directed Draco in the way of Dom Willick's office.

There were plump purple seats outside the office, and everything was very modern and attractive. The walls were adorned with very understated artwork that Draco liked very, very much, and he was actually quite sad when he was called into the office by a gorgeous redhead girl who reminded him a bit of Ginny Weasley, except she was prettier and more approachable, and wearing a very sexy little brown leather skirt that would have matched Draco's trousers, had he been wearing them.

Unfortunately, with all things lovely must come something not so lovely, and Draco found that he was completely right about Dom Willick. He was a bastard, and a smarmy one at that. Draco was almost certain that he was being chatted up from the word go, when Dom stood up, shook his hand and said, "Mr Malfoy, is it? Very nice indeed." From this moment on, Draco could not let five minutes pass without wanting to take out a revolver and shoot either himself, or Dom Willick.

As Dom went on about housing schemes and insurance opportunities and everything else that Draco had no interest in, Draco found himself wondering what on Earth Harry Potter could possibly see in a bastard like this. He must be very good in bed, or very rich, or preferably both, because he was very average looking (if Draco had to make a judgment) and didn't appear to have any sorts of bulges in any of the right places.

"Mr Malfoy, you're looking for a new place, am I correct?" Dom was asking now, to which Draco resisted the urge to call him an utter twat and say that of course he was looking for a new place, otherwise he wouldn't be in an estate agent's office, would he?

Instead he opted for, "Mm hm, yes," and sat back in the seat, which was as comfortable as those that had been outside the office. Inside was just as fancy too, and Draco thought it would be a very nice place if it weren't for the super sized arsehole sitting behind the desk. "I was looking for somewhere nice, and quite big, and not too far from the other place - oh and I need it by the end of the week. Please."

Dom looked taken aback for a moment, but was clearly used to demanding men (Draco smirked inwardly at this thought), as he simply announced, "I have the perfect place. Give me five minutes and I'll be right back with your dream home."

He got up, left, missed seeing Draco give him the finger, and within a few moments, was back, a file in his hand as he sat back down at his desk. Opening the file, he spread out the paperwork inside, which showed off what looked to be a very attractive apartment, with a white, black and red theme. Draco wasn't terribly fond of the red, but decided he could always get rid of that later. The rest of the apartment looked very, very nice.

"This is from our newest group of flats," Dom was explaining, and Draco found he had to listen to him now, because he really was very interested. "It's situated in Park Place-" Draco raised an eyebrow at this. Park Place was a lovely area of London that Draco had visited a few times looking for open houses, but had never been in luck. "-and is available immediately. It's not too highly priced either, a lovely little place that I think you would really benefit from."

"Ah right," was all Draco said, thinking that it would be more beneficial if Dom dropped down unconscious so that he could point and laugh. "How many bedrooms?"

Dom smiled at this - again very annoying - and replied, "Two, both double beds and lots of storage space. The kitchen is fifteen feet by ten feet, and the house has a built in HomeHelperTM system, although it's not as insistent as that in your old home, I'm afraid, but it will see you right through perfectly. The bathroom is here," Dom pointed to a part on one of the photographs, and it zoomed in immediately and changed so that Draco could look at the bathroom, which was blue and green and very nice indeed.

Draco was starting to feel quite hopeful, despite no mention of a price yet - although this didn't really matter - and was even beginning to be able to ignore Dom's blatant arsehole tendencies. Draco was sure it was a much easier thing to do because there had been no sight, or mention, of Harry, and he was confident there wouldn't be one, either.

Well, he certainly hoped there wouldn't, anyway.

* * *

Two hours later, after having gone for a very swift and professional viewing of the flat on Park Place, Draco was signing papers and handing over money, having been told he could move in the following Saturday. He was just picking up his coat to leave when the Ginny look-a-like came back to Dom's office and told him that his boyfriend was waiting outside whenever he was ready.

Draco's immediate thought to this was, hmph, and that the sooner he was out of here, the better, because he really wasn't in a very Harry Potter mood today, and was very tired, and just wanted to go home and have a good long sleep. He was quite sure his apartment would probably be very crabby with him after finding out he had bought a new one, but he could definitely say he would much rather be there than witness any sort of display of affection between Harry and The Arsehole.

Even though Dom Willick was clearly a very good and professional estate agent who had found Draco a lovely new place to live at a not-unreasonable price, he was still most definitely the sort of person Draco would happily throttle. He couldn't quite say why, but there was something about his attitude, the general over-confidence and his being decidedly too good at his job that Draco just couldn't stomach.

"Well, Mr Malfoy, it was lovely to meet you," Dom was saying now as they stood up, shook hands and then walked towards the door. "If you come back here on Friday at your appointment time, we shall finalise the details and get you moved into number 21, does that sound alright?"

Draco nodded, agreed and added, "It's very late, I should be off," just in case Dom got any funny ideas about asking him to stick around. Dom was another of the unfortunates that fancied Draco, clearly, which Draco wouldn't usually mind but was now very put off by. After all, this was Harry's boyfriend, and it was just plain wrong that he should be so openly flaunting himself. Draco found it highly unprofessional and, once again, the mark of a true idiot.

"Indeed, I'm running a bit behind," Dom said with a smile. "I'm supposed to be having dinner with my boyfriend, he's not going to let me hear the end of it. You see, he's been late for most of our dates before and I always complain, but today, well obviously it's a complete turn around-"

"Obviously." Draco was quite visibly sulking now, having no concern to hear about Harry and his lateness. It was clear Dom wasn't aware that Draco knew his boyfriend, and so he found himself having to step in with, "Harry was never late in school. I suppose the years change a person. He was never gay, either."

Dom looked surprised now. "Oh, you know Harry?"

"We go very far back." Draco found himself taking great delight in Dom's slightly disappointed expression, and knew that he was wondering just how sexy Harry thought Draco was. Obviously the answer was very. "We used to be old enemies, actually. He hated me." Dom looked relieved. "But then we got off with each other in this club a few years later, and I don't think he ever really got over me. I'm not gay, you see, I was just very drunk." Dom didn't look relieved anymore, and Draco decided he could quite happily go on at great length about this, if only to inflict that expression on Dom's face until it was stuck there forever.

Dom opened the door - quite pointedly, Draco thought - and only said in a voice that tried desperately not to care but failed miserably, "Wonderful. I shall see you on Friday, Mr Malfoy."

"Indeed." Draco grinned, and left the office.

* * *

Because seeing Harry was an expected situation today, Draco found he was much more prepared, and therefore had many funny comments stored away in his head for all occasions. Harry, on the other hand, hadn't been expecting to see Draco at all, and the expression on his face when Draco left Dom Willick's office was almost as priceless as that of his boyfriend's.

"Uh, Malfoy, what are you doing here?" he asked nervously, and Draco was happy to see it was his turn now to wring his hands.

Draco raised an eyebrow for a moment, and very decidedly forgot all about how very late he had claimed it to be not ten minutes ago. "You might remember that I've been evicted, Potter, so I need a new apartment. Of course, you overlooked the fact that you have an estate agent boyfriend who could be very useful in the process of preventing my utter homelessness, so why should I expect you to be able to get a handle on anything, really?"

Harry went a bit red at this, causing Draco to smirk again, but the smirk disappeared when Harry said, "I didn't even think about it, Malfoy. To be honest, I don't really spend any time thinking about you, because I don't like you. I thought that was like an unspoken thing that we both understood."

"Liar, you asked if we were going to see each other again," Draco retorted after getting over the initial surprise that Harry's comment inflicted. "In fact, you were positively jumping up and down when I said we might."

This made Harry roll his eyes a bit, and Draco was sure he was probably remembering that Draco was quite the drama queen. This gave Draco some much needed glee again, for no defined reason, which was quite the opposite reaction to Harry, who just looked further annoyed and was clearly wondering when his boyfriend was going to appear and save him from the fate that was talking to Draco Malfoy.

"There was no jumping, Malfoy," Harry retorted now in a cool voice, smirking only very slightly, so much so that it almost wasn't visible unless you looked for it. "But now that we're in the same room, I was wondering - do you want to come to Accio next week? It's this club in-"

"In The Alley, I know it," Draco cut in, nodding a bit. There was a pause, and then he said, "It depends who's going to be there, really. Are Granger and The Weasel going?"

Harry looked like he was suddenly remembering something, and was about to give Draco a long lecture about what was almost definitely the shopping incident, when Dom appeared and announced, "I know, I know, I'm late-" before noticing that Draco was still there and simply stating, "Oh."

Harry's face brightened up at the sight of his boyfriend, and he gave him a kiss on the cheek, said he would only be five minutes and that Dom could go and wait outside if he wanted. Draco thought this was very rude, and that he definitely would not have waited outside at all, but Dom was far more idiotic than Draco and of course, obliged, seeming not to mind at all.

"So, Accio?" Harry asked, and Draco shrugged.

"Will it be just you and me?" Draco asked, before adding as an explanation, "I'm not ultimately fond of the idea of spending a whole evening with you, but I'm even less open to a night out with your sidekicks and that excuse for a man that you call your boyfriend." At Harry's mortally offended expression, he then continued, "Look, Potter, I just don't do arseholes. I know that's probably your life motto, and that's your choice, but don't inflict it on me."

Harry gave a sigh, and folded his arms across his chest. "Fine, just you and me then, if that's what you really want."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Which it is."

"Good, then."

* * *

Having finally made arrangements to meet up with Harry on Saturday evening after Draco had moved into his new apartment, Draco finally went home at seven o'clock, suitably tired and looking forward to a nice night of doing as little as possible. He was very happy, and almost surprised, to find there was nothing and nobody waiting for him when he opened his front door, and then made his way into the kitchen.

It had been a good day, that was the first thing Draco thought. His mother had not been too impossible, despite having nagged him for the whole three hours about being responsible and getting a job and an apartment and just generally a better life, and the meeting with Dom Willick had gone very well. Draco was also quite happy to have made arrangements with Harry because, although he was still speaking to his ex-colleagues that he had bothered to make friends with, he did get lonely every once in awhile.

He had made the decision not to see his Slytherin friends about a year ago, when they had all gone off and formed a group that was like a younger version of D.E.A.T.H, that they named the Extra Villainous Incorporation League, and set about trying to kill all the wizards that would not corroborate their plan to turn the world into an entire representation of E.V.I.L and, well, evil. Draco had found this a stupid campaign, and decided not to comply, which made them in turn try to kill him.

Draco obviously had not taken too kindly to this, and so had cut off all his ties with them. He had also intensely disliked the sympathy they showed him for his father's death, although the extra biscuits at meetings had been nice for a little while. He hadn't been so fond when Pansy Parkinson had offered to give him an unlimited supply of blow jobs, because Pansy Parkinson was very scary looking, and not Draco's type at all. This had been another sign to get out, and quickly.

So he had, and had instead continued to work for D.E.A.T.H, where he revealed the League's ideas and promptly had them shut down. This meant he never got invited to Slytherin parties and conventions anymore, but Draco couldn't care less. He had his work friends, and now he spoke to Harry and that didn't even seem such a bad thing either.

Admittedly, he had hated Harry Potter in school, because it had been something to do and he was just such a celebrity. Draco had grown sick of hearing the boy's name, quite frankly, and it seemed the rest of the wizard population did too, eventually, because he seeped out of the news for a little while, after the death of Voldemort had long subsided.

Draco had eventually forgotten to hate Harry, and instead just became indifferent after having not seen him for a very long time. Everything in Hogwarts now seemed very far away, and sometimes this made Draco sad, but mostly he was just relieved that he didn't have to spend half his life explaining two syllable words to Crabbe and Goyle.

His life had changed quite dramatically since Hogwarts, he often thought, as had his general outlook on life, and now it was going to change again. A new apartment, and at some point possibly a new job (if he really had to get one, which Draco still wasn't convinced that he did), and Harry Potter back in his life. Well, it would certainly be interesting.

It was more interesting when a snowy owl flew in through his open window and dropped off a note that simply said in messy scrawl:

Well done, Malfoy. My boyfriend just dumped me because of you. We will talk about this on Saturday, believe me. You are a first class twat, after all. Oh, and don't forget to wear something nice.

-Harry

Draco grinned.