Dizzy

Chapter Three

Draco took his time getting ready on Wednesday morning, before he had to leave. A leisurely shower, followed by a long debate over clothing, breakfast and grooming rituals hindered his leaving home for his new work.

His clothing spoke of ingrained wealth and power, and Draco himself had to smile at the looks he received from passerby when he entered Harry’s Ministry office. He nodded at the secretary, who buzzed him in after a pause to double-check his identity. Even she had to give him a thorough once-over. He passed her in a waft of cologne.

Harry was bent at his desk, shuffling through his papers, when Draco came in. He took a moment to admire the just visible curve of Harry’s ass, and scanned upwards. Again, Potter wore dress just casual enough to be flattering, while cut and expensive to be work-suitable. Draco grinned, slipped past him towards the guest chair, and cleared his throat impatiently when Harry still didn’t look up.

“Oh,” Harry started, his jolt of surprise letting a few slips of paper fall to the floor. At his side was the newest version of Quick Quill Quotes, where all you had to do was dictate to the plume and it’d log the words. Draco himself had one at home, but seldom used it. “Hello, Malfoy. I apologize for not seeing you sooner.” He waved for Draco to sit down, at Draco gave him a blank look, purposefully crossing his legs in the chair. Harry gave a rueful sound and blushed red. “Sorry. None too observant today.”

“Perfectly all right, Potter.” Draco folded his arms over his chest and tapped his left foot against his right. “Perhaps some Wakefulness Potion is in order?”

Harry shook his head.

“I try not to, unless its absolutely necessary, considering how long it takes for those things to wear off.”

“Ah. I see.” Draco didn’t. The wakefulness Potion usually lasted for a few hours, for Draco, but he supposed Potter was using any excuse that seemed halfway buyable. Gods knew the Golden Boy of the Wizarding World couldn’t use a substance, even if it was for a good purpose.

“Listen.” Harry took a seat for himself, behind his desk. “I’ve just got a few things to go over with you, and then we can move on to your office...” Draco blinked with surprise.

“I have an office?”

“Sure you do. You *do* hold an important Ministry job...” Harry looked puzzled by Draco’s innocent inquiry.

“No reason. I just didn’t think about it,” Draco answered the unspoken question. Harry nodded.

“Anyway.” He shuffled through a few more papers and tapped them smartly on his desk, straightening their order and stacking them neatly. He placed his Quill precisely on top of the stack before taking up his next sentence. “You know your job description; profiling, essays... since you come from a D.E. background...”

“D.E.,” Draco asked wonderingly, even though he was almost sure he knew what it was.

“Death Eater.”

“Ahh. Go on.”

“Since you come from a Death Eater background, you’ll be dead useful. Which is why, Malfoy, I was thinking...” Harry took awkward moment and licked his lips.

“You were thinking...? Oh, dear,” Draco joked.

“I was thinking that we’d want you on real assignments. That’s not to say that what you’re down for already isn’t important, but... we need someone to go to crime sites and have a look around, maybe go...”

“Go...?” Draco had a funny feeling he wasn’t going to like what Harry was planning. He frowned and uncrossed his legs, leaning forward on his elbows over the desk. Harry reacted immediately to his changed posture, and even stuttered on his words.

“I, eh. Maybe... go undercover.” Harry looked away and took up his Quill again. He tapped the feather end against the desk while they waited in uncomfortable silence for whoever might speak next.

“You want me undercover?”

“Not undercover, per say, but... to act as if you weren’t working for us, yeah? To, eh... continue life as if this hadn’t happened, but to investigate and report to us.” Harry looked up quickly. Draco was still frowning. “If you wanted to, that is.”

“I see.” Draco had little time to think. If he was going to take the offer, he’d have to do it right that moment - he understood that. But if Potter actually thought he was going to risk his neck out in the ‘field’, then he was just as stubborn and stupid as he had been in school.

“I understand your hesitancy,” Harry said, as if reading from sympathy cue cards, “but we could really use a person like you on staff, doing these sorts of things.”

“Could you?”

For some reason, the reiteration unnerved Potter, and he stumbled.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll do it,” Draco said flatly, without much consideration. Something about the jumpiness in Harry persuaded him, though he supposed Potter’s anxiety could be the sign of hidden trouble.

“Great.” Potter stood, and offered his hand. Draco sat up himself, and took the limb offered to him. Potter’s grip was surprisingly firm and soft, with rough traces of labor etched into the skin. They shook a moment longer than needed. “Welcome aboard, Malfoy. I’ll take you to your office.”

He dropped Draco’s hand suddenly, as if it was a burning item, and came around the corner of his desk. He signaled for Draco to follow him, and he did, through the door and down the hallway a bit as Potter spoke to him, glancing back over his shoulder every now and then to make sure Draco was following.

“Today will be pretty relaxed, so there won’t be much to do, I think. We’ll just run over procedure and the like.”

“Sure.”

“And you’ll get to meet some of the staff, people you’ll be working with, and...”

“Sure.”

“...I hope you’ll like it here.” Harry finished, and before Draco could respond with his usual ‘sure,’ he pulled open a door and Draco found himself inside of his new office.

There was little art on the walls, in keeping with the decor of the rest of the place, but the furniture was nice and the room spacious. A muggle computer sat, turned off, on Draco’s new desk, but wizarding items were in abundance. He smiled in secret satisfaction at the vase of flowers sitting by the window ledge.

“I’m sure I will,” Draco answered.