Title: Potter's Interference
Author: 
yodels
Team: Epilogue, What Epilogue?
Prompt: The Magician
Wordcount: ~8500
Rating: PG
Warnings: foul language, does that need a warning?
Summary: In the years after the war, Draco Malfoy has built a successful business that skirts the edge of legality by becoming adept at figurative sleight-of-hand. Enter Harry Potter, moral upright citizen still chasing after Draco, still suspicious of his every move. When their lives intersect in an unexpected way, will Draco be able to smooth-talk his way out of trouble?
Disclaimer: These characters in no way belong to me. All credit goes to JKR, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury and countless others, I'm sure. It's all in good fun.
Author's Note Thanks to my betas, who worked so hard. Readers: may you find The Magician as interesting as I did. The link above will tell you all you need to know.
Week 354 B.P.I. (Before Potter's Interference, or more commonly known as three years after the Battle of Hogwarts)
The erumpents were stampeding.
Granted, there were only four of them, and they had run off in four different directions, so perhaps stampede wasn't the right word. They would eventually be forced to stop by the magical barriers surrounding the Manor and yet, there was something rather impressive and intimidating about an erumpent in the heat of a mating frenzy.
Draco Malfoy sighed and watched as eight house-elves ran to corral the beasts and bring them back to their pens. Hopefully, this time there would be no explosions. He'd lost three of his best elves in last year's stampede.
Discovering a menagerie of magical creatures (many highly illegal) that were abandoned at the Manor after his parents' hasty departure for parts unknown (at least to the wider world) had been more than a little shocking. Realizing that he needed to dispose of them, or care for them, all while still navigating the post-Voldemort wizarding world had been truly distressing. Like a guardian angel, Pansy Parkinson had swept back into his life and taken complete control. The more innocuous, less regulated creatures had been easily passed along to acquaintances and friends of friends. The wealthy never seemed to tire of owning the most exotic, hardest to find pet and thus a business for Draco, and by extension Pansy, had been born.
"Perhaps, Draco, erumpents should be left in the wild. I'm not sure they make the best pets." Pansy strolled out on to the veranda, a glass of wine in her hand, and lowered herself to one of the chaise lounges. She laughed quietly as two house elves levitated one of the giant beasts back into the pen.
Draco dropped into an empty chaise lounge. "They're not meant to be pets, Pansy, you know that. A gun-crazy, Muggle-loving Frenchman wants to hunt them as if he were on safari in Africa, without the inconvenience of actually traveling to the Dark Continent. We have to bring the little beasties to him at his compound somewhere in the wilds of Wales." The logistics of that particular enterprise had been giving Draco fits for months; he would be glad when the whole thing was done with. He was never doing business with a Frog again.
What his parents' intentions for the various wild creatures that stalked the grounds had been Draco never guessed, and he had long ago decided he never wanted to know.
Week 276 B.P.I, or more commonly known as four years after The Battle of Hogwarts.
"Master, the diricawls have gone again." The house elf cringed in the doorway, aware that the
messenger of this particular bit of bad, but regular news always bore the brunt of the master's temper. Dimpy had drawn the short straw this time.
"Find them! They can't have gone far and they almost always return within the hour. Be sure to put out some extra food. Those damned birds eat more than they're worth." Draco returned his attention to the thick account books in front of him on the desk. "Oh, and Dimpy? I think a good, strong ear ironing is in order for allowing this to happen again." The elf bowed and disappeared. It wouldn't do to disappoint the house elves, so Draco doled out punishments on a regular basis, though he'd given up getting angry over the diricawls' clockwork disappearances. The fucking augureys and their fucking prophetic calls foretelling rain were driving the diricawls to vanish far too often. Fucking British weather.
The Americans' obsession with this particular bird was as annoying as it was baffling, but with the amount of money they were willing to put out for them, Draco was willing to make the extra effort. He knew they would be back for more. Inevitably, the birds would vanish from their cage at the zoo as soon as the first lion roared, but that was not Draco's problem.
Week 224 B.P.I, or more commonly known as five and a half years after The Battle of Hogwarts, when life was still good.
Business was booming and Draco's accounts had never been blacker. Unloading the last of the jobberknolls before they had the chance to utter their final shriek had been trickier than he'd originally thought, but he'd finally convinced the Romanian government that the little blue birds would make lovely national emblems, and that had been that. The legitimate end of his business did well enough, but the less-than-legal sales of several species of magical creatures were what kept Draco in cashmere and caviar.
"Draco?" Blaise's voice interrupted his musings. "There's been an inquiry from an old source about acquiring a unicorn. What do you think? Can we get one by Christmas? Some German wants to make his daughter's wish come true."
"A unicorn? By Christmas? He's as clumsy as he is desperate. Tell the source to tell the 'German' that unicorns are wild, beautiful animals that are highly regulated by the Ministry. We deal only in legitimate magical beasts."
"But Draco, maybe we should try."
"This is Potter asking. Potter and his band of merry do-gooders thinking they are so clever and secretive. Potter assuming that I am an idiot and will blindly go along with his innocent request, just to be apprehended at the last minute. If he wants to catch me, he's going to have to grow a brain."
"Draco, I don't think—"
"Blaise! Don't think, just do as I say and tell them no." Draco returned his attention to his ledger, dismissing him.
Potter's semi-annual attempts to trap Draco were laughable.
Week 26 B.P.I., or more commonly known as nine and a half years after The Battle of Hogwarts, or six months before ruination.
"Tell me again why we are approaching Lavender Brown's home with the intention of actually going inside to 'admire' her new pet. You know that Potter will be there in all his self-righteous indignation. He'll call the authorities, and things could go quite pear-shaped from there." Pansy stopped, so Draco was forced to stop as well.
"Because," he explained, "it will look much more suspicious if we do not turn up when invited. Lavender cannot discuss where she procured the very beautiful, very rare and very illegal snidget. She knows what Potter does, and what his silly little crusading organization does and she wouldn't have invited him if she thought he would do anything stupid. Of course, no one ever thinks anything Potter does is stupid, so perhaps I'm mistaken and we'll all be carted off to Azkaban. Stop being such a big girl's blouse about the whole thing. We've been doing this for years without issue. Why now, all of a sudden, are you worried? All is well." He dragged Pansy the last few steps to the house and rang the doorbell before she had a chance to offer more protestations.
Fashionably late, as intended, the afternoon party was in full swing by the time they entered the large, bright solarium. Draco greeted his hostess and was suitably admiring of her home. Pansy managed to gush about the lovely oriental carpet and Lavender shooed them towards the bar, where Harry Potter was standing guard.
"Malfoy. Pansy. How are you both?" he asked. Draco refused to answer. Any dialogue with Potter was a bad one. It could only end awkwardly or violently. Either way, Draco would be the one to blame and his efforts towards legitimacy in the eyes of the now-powerful Gryffindors would be all for naught.
Pansy matched Potter's tone. "Well, thank you. And you?"
"Busy, as usual. The flow of magical creatures never gets slow." He answered Pansy but looked at Draco. Draco returned the stare.
"Oh, yes. Your little organization. PALS, is it?" Pansy murmured, breaking the moment.
Potter finally turned his eyes on Pansy. "P.A.W.S., actually. Preservation of Animal Welfare Society. We aim to protect—"
That was as far as he got before Lavender interrupted. "Oh, Harry. You said you wouldn't bring that up today, you promised to be a good boy. I know how you feel, and how important the safety of magical animals is to you, but I swear that I'll take very good care of my little Princess."
Draco winced. What was it with women and animals that produced baby talk?
Chided into silence, Harry slumped into a nearby chair as Lavender disappeared, apparently to retrieve Princess.
Never one to pass up the opportunity to goad Harry Potter, Draco strolled over and sat down next to him.
"Poor Potter. Can't get any respect, not even from your friends. They break the rules right under your nose and there's nothing you can do about it without getting them in serious trouble. I'd say it's nearly emasculating."
Harry glared at Draco, but didn't respond.
"C'mon Potter, admit it. You get hard just thinking about getting your hands on the person responsible for Lavender's little pet." He nodded in the direction of the doorway.
Lavender slowly re-entered the room, a small golden bird perched on her forefinger. She kept up a nearly constant trill as she circled among the gathering, showing off her exquisite little acquisition. The bird chirped and preened as if it knew it was under scrutiny, its ruby eyes swiveling to take in the party guests that moved closer.
"Interesting word choice, Malfoy, using sexual innuendo with me. One would almost think you were flirting with me. And, for the record, I'm quite close to 'getting my hands' on the source behind the flow of illegal creatures into England."
"You wouldn't do anything that would distress our lovely Ms. Brown, and we both know it." As one, Draco and Harry both watched Lavender as she smiled with her friends, the faint white scars from Greyback's attack still visible in the afternoon sunlight coming through the windows. "She suffered much for the cause," Draco continued. "She deserves something pretty in her life."
"That may be so, Malfoy, but that doesn't mean I'm not above causing others distress. You, for example, would look lovely behind bars at Azkaban."
"Why Potter, there's a compliment buried in there somewhere. Now who's flirting?"
Harry actually laughed loud enough for a few nearby guests to look over. "You mistake flirtation for threats, Malfoy," he said more quietly.
"I'm not so sure." Draco was supremely confident. Early in his career he had come upon the truly genius idea of making himself the Secret-Keeper for each and every transaction. A slightly modified Fidelius, with an occasional Obliviate thrown in for good measure, insured that none of his clients nor his staff could ever reveal anything about where the creatures came from. Pure brilliance. Only Draco himself could choose to divulge that information, and of course, that would never happen. He got up and made his way towards Lavender, leaving Potter to brood alone.
Parvati Patil's voice filtered through the crowd, her envy palpable. "Ooohh...Lav. Wherever did you get such a lovely little thing? I'd love to get one myself." She reached out a tentative hand to pet the little gold ball of feathers, but stopped at the last minute.
Lavender smiled serenely. "I can't talk about it. It's all very hush-hush." She looked like she wanted to say more, but couldn't.
Draco chanced a glance in Potter's direction, who was glowering in his general direction. Draco smiled broadly and gave a little wave.
Week 4 B.P.I., or more commonly known as 9 years and 11 months after The Battle of Hogwarts
"A demiguise!?! Who, exactly does he think I am? Merlin? Sure, I'll just conjure one out of thin air. No, I know, I'll Apparate off to the Himalayas, nab me a pair, male and female of course with one slung under each arm and then pop back here in no time. Is he fucking mad? Does he not know the first thing about them? They disappear, vanish, you know, completely vamoose!" Draco snapped his fingers at that last word. He was working himself into a full-blown rant, pacing wildly around his desk. Pansy grew dizzy just watching him.
"So? Just say no, then. Tell him that there is no possible way to acquire such a highly prized item." Pansy said. "There is no shame in it, Draco."
At that, he spun on her. "I know that! But my reputation in this business is everything. If I can't deliver he'll go to someone else, and with him a trail of other wealthy, connected customers. I hate watching the Galleons slip through my fingers."
"It's not worth the risk. Potter gets closer all the time. He nearly had us with that jarvey request. Your instincts are pitch-perfect, Draco. Somehow, you can always sense when Potter is getting close, it's rather uncanny."
"What are you implying, Pansy? That I know him? That I have some kind of thing for him? I think I resent your meaning. Besides how hard was it to figure out, really? No one in their right mind would want a jarvey, all they do is spew filth out of each end. Rude little blighters. The only person on the planet that would ask for a jarvey is Potter."
Pansy surrendered. "No implication, just a compliment about your unerring ability to spot a sting. I'm sorry I mentioned it. But Draco, don't get sidetracked. What message shall I send to the Swedish Minister?"
Draco ran his hands through his hair. "I'll do it. Somehow or other, I will get him a demiguise. Tell him he'll have it in a month. I'll need time to contact Fu in Beijing, he'll know where to start. You did double-check the inquiry, didn't you? There's no chance this is Potter looking for a way in? It has his stink on it."
"Triple checked. And I talked to two separate people who confirmed the Minister's interest. So, unless Harry Potter has become the Swedish Minister for Magic and changed his name to Sven, I think we're safe."
Draco took a slug from his ever-present bottle of designer water, and watched a few clabberts swing on the lower branches of some nearby trees. As the sun set, an occamy meandered out from under some shrubs, making awkward progress across the garden. They really were the most ungainly animals. Draco could just make out the glow of the warning pustules on the foreheads of the clabberts as they spotted the occamy. He turned his back on the windows. "All right. What else is on the docket? Is there anything I need to be thinking about right now?"
Pansy checked her list, making notations here and there. "A phoenix. There has been a request for one." She looked up at him, already knowing his response.
"Potter: bringing idiocy to new heights. Phoenixes are not illegal though, so perhaps not as stupid as he generally appears. His affection for that bird of Dumbledore's is legendary, so regardless, send the usual regrets."
Week 0.5: B.P.I., or more commonly known as nine years, 11 months and 3 days after The Battle of Howarts, approximately. Also, the day the bad luck began.
"Fuck! That hurt." Draco was kneeling by the small pond in the back garden. He carefully examined his thumb where the bite mark from the malaclaw throbbed, and a pinprick of blood appeared. "Why in the fuck do we even have these things?" His only companion, a six-month old crup, wagged its forked tail and made to lick his hand in sympathy before Draco snatched it out of reach. The pet had been a gift from Pansy in one of her ill-conceived attempts to soften Draco, hoping he would gain a new perspective on the many animals that he was buying and selling so ruthlessly. It hadn't worked out quite that way. He was mostly annoyed by the attentive, needy creature who followed him everywhere. It had instantly bonded with Draco, rarely allowing him out of its sight. Perseus, as Draco had finally named him after two months of calling him Shit for Brains, (which Pansy had not appreciated at all) had eventually wormed his way into Draco's heart or at least its vicinity. He was now allowed to sleep on the other side of the bed, when it was not otherwise occupied.
"We'll forget the malaclaw for now, useless creatures that it is. I'll send Dunky out for it later." Draco had grown accustomed to the fact that he occasionally lapsed into one-sided conversations with Perseus, who, it turned out, was smarter and far less annoying than Blaise.
Entering the library, he pulled out his tattered copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them for a quick reference about malaclaws. Well, being bitten wasn't fatal, that was a relief, and bad luck for a week sounded manageable. How bad could it really be? He had only one rendezvous this week, and there was no way he could cancel it. The Swedish Minister was expecting a demiguise and Draco meant to deliver it come hell or high water. Pansy and Blaise were retrieving it and should be returning later tonight.
"You're fucking late. What the hell happened? Swear to me the damned thing did not disappear. You know I'll have to kill someone if this deal goes bad, and most certainly it will be Blaise. I'm sure his mother will understand; I'll buy her something expensive in recompense." Draco sipped at his brandy, his jiggling knee the only outward sign of his anxiety. "Where is the bastard, anyway?"
"It didn't disappear. There's no need to kill anyone. We encountered only one small obstacle. Tiny. Miniscule, in fact, and Blaise is off dealing with it. He'll be here shortly." Pansy poured herself a drink.
"Well, are you going to share with me this teeny, tiny problem?"
"Of course, darling. The demiguise we have bought is a new mother." Pansy beamed at Draco. "She simply would not leave her baby, and I would never force her to, either. So, we had to do some quick thinking in order to transport them both safely."
"You mean, you had to do some quick thinking, there is no way that I'm going to believe that Blaise did anything other than stare at it, mouth agape."
Pansy fluttered her hand in dismissal. "Whatever. The problem has been solved and we now have two of the lovely beasties, but Draco, we absolutely cannot separate them. The Swede must be willing to purchase both; the baby will die without its mother."
"Pansy, when did you become such a soft-hearted fool?"
"Draco, I have always loved these animals. It's you that has always been the utter bastard, unwilling to see these creatures for what they are. To you, they are simply products to be bought and sold, no more important than cauldrons or jewels."
"Your use of hyperbole is as exquisite as ever, my dear. You know that I think they are far more valuable than any cauldron or jewel. Many of these animals are practically priceless." He smirked at her, but she would not be placated. "Fine. Contact the Swede and inform him of the change in plans. If he agrees, tell him the price has gone up to twelve thousand Galleons and that we shall meet him, alone, at the designated spot at the same time. I want this business behind me. Then, go home to your layabout husband and leave me be for the rest of the evening. I need my solitude."
"Draco, if you had any more solitude I'd worry that you'd start talking to the walls. We need to find you a man. A good one. A saint maybe, if he's to put up with you. I'll have to think on it."
"Yes, yes, you've said that all before, and yet here I am with only a crup for company. Take yourself away, Pansy. I'll see you tomorrow."
Week 0: Potter's Interference, or more commonly known as ten years after The Battle of Hogwarts thereabouts, or the moment in time in which the good life ended and the world nearly stopped
The large cage with the mother demiguise and baby floated silently behind Draco as he approached the rendezvous point. The fine, silvery hair that covered their bodies wafted in the gentle night breeze, and Draco marveled again how truly beautiful these animals were, though he would never admit that to anyone. Periodically, he would offer treats to the mother, or endearments; he couldn't risk that she would feel threatened and vanish, especially traveling with her infant, so Draco had taken every precaution.
He knew that his staff was silently watching him, placed strategically around the perimeter to keep an eye out for trouble.
"That damn Swede had better not be late," he muttered more to himself than aloud.
"I'm here, not to worry." A man stepped out from around the corner of the abandoned building. Tall, blond and middle-aged, he certainly looked as if he could be the Minister.
He hesitated. Draco couldn't perform the Fidelius until money changed hands, and yet, there was something not quite right.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, not at all." Draco answered, trying to shake off the odd feeling. "Hand me the sack whilst I send the cage over to you." The exchange happened quickly and before the man could disappear with the demiquises, Draco made a complicated gesture with his wand, said the words that sealed the Fidelius and smiled. "Call it an insurance policy."
"That's fine, Malfoy, we don't need him to make our case." Harry Potter appeared from under a fine, silvery fabric, wordlessly casting binding charms on Draco's wrists and snagging his wand. "You are hereby taken into custody by the temporary authority granted to me by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the Auror Division under statutes 1.75 and 305.673, Bylaws #3.0847, 14.3, not to mention the fact that I have good friends in both divisions."
Draco, stunned into silence, was staring at the invisibility cloak. Harry smirked. "Ironic, no? Considering the animal you were selling?"
"Demiguises are not illegal, Potter. Release me." Draco had finally regained his voice and his senses.
"You are absolutely correct, Malfoy. However, it is illegal to transport them out of the country of origin without the proper paperwork and the necessary time in quarantine to ensure they are not carrying disease. It's just my good luck that you also happen to have a young demiguise under the age of six months, which, in fact, is illegal. You made it far too easy for me, Malfoy. I did tell you that I was close; you just chose to ignore the warning."
"I need to talk to my solicitor. And Pansy."
"The solicitor you'll definitely need, but why Pansy?"
"The animals don't care for themselves, Potter, surely you must know that. Someone needs to step in, and she is the only one I trust."
Week 0.5: A.P.I., After Potter's Interference
After being held for thirty-six hours, Draco had finally been allowed to return home. A tracking charm had been placed upon his body that alerted the authorities to his every move. He was to appear before the full Wizengamot in two weeks' time.
Pansy stayed away from the Manor for three full days after his return home.
The house-elves cowered in the kitchen, only venturing out when Draco specifically shouted for one, and even then they resorted to duels to see who would go.
Even Perseus, loyal pet and avid admirer of Draco Malfoy, hid in the farthest reaches of the Manor, squeezing himself under a credenza in a forgotten room.
The mournful calls of the augureys matched Draco's mood. He cursed Harry Potter and his self-righteousness. He cursed himself for trusting Pansy and not his own instincts. Mostly, he cursed that damn malaclaw and its bad luck bite.
Week 2 A.P.I., After Potter's Interference, or the week in which things don't quite work out the way he hoped.
In the end, the only real charges leveled against Draco were the ones of bringing demiguises into the country without proper paperwork and quarantine, and the illegal transport of a minor demiguise.
Everyone had their suspicions, of course, but without any actual evidence of other crimes, they could do nothing.
His solicitor had told him it would be a slap on the wrist and some probationary time. Though, he would have to give up all transactions that were in any way shady; only legitimate business from now on. The Ministry would be watching Draco and the Manor very carefully.
It hadn't quite worked out that way.
"Draco Malfoy, you are hereby ordered to surrender all controlled magical creatures located at Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, into the custody of the Preservation of Animal Welfare Society. Harry Potter will be your liaison with the Ministry and will supervise all decisions regarding said animals from here on. That is all. Our ruling is final and there is no opportunity for appeal."
"In addition," another voice chimed in, "you will be forbidden to travel outside of England, all visitors to the Manor must be pre-approved by your liaison, and your wand will be constrained to an assortment of household and personal charms that will be approved by your liaison."
"And, how long is this punishment to last?" Draco asked.
"The terms of this sentencing are to last seven and half years, beginning today."
"Well, fuck."
Week 2.5 A.P.I., or more commonly known as the time when the cause of ruination makes a bold appearance.
It was a Friday morning when Dipsy, quaking uncontrollably, popped into the parlor to announce a visitor for the Master.
"A Harry Potter is here to see you, Master."
Draco, slouching on the sofa, arm flung over his eyes, sat up slowly. "What did you just say to me?"
"Ha..Harr..Harry Pot..ter, Master. He is in the hall, waiting to see you. Shall I bring him in?" Dipsy had backed herself against the wall, poised to flee if necessary.
"Certainly. Send him in. And bring tea, for two."
Dipsy bowed quickly and disappeared.
"Hullo, Malfoy. You're not looking well."
"Thank you so much. My life is ruined, my appearance is allowed to reflect that."
"Your life is hardly ruined, Malfoy." Harry poured himself some tea and sat down. "I'm only in your life for the next seven and half years."
"An eternity." Draco pointed over Harry's head.
Harry turned and noticed a series of calendars that covered one wall, each day of the seven and a half year sentence had a picture of Harry, the first few were blacked out with large Xs. "Clever, Malfoy. Must have taken you a bit of time to do all this."
Draco smiled. "I had nothing better to do yesterday."
"We should get started. I'd like a tour of the grounds and the house."
Week 3.75 A.P.I., nearly four weeks After Potter's Interference and Draco's only friend begins a slow betrayal.
It had been raining for near on ten days. When Harry turned up at the Manor, which was almost every day, to count animals or question the house-elves, or generally make a nuisance of himself, he inevitably expected to be fed lunch around the noon hour. He never expressed such expectations verbally, but there he was, showing no inclinations to disappear for an hour or so, never mentioning a lunch meeting with friends or colleagues. Nothing. So, Draco fed him. There was nothing else for it.
The problem with Harry and meals was that he wanted to chat. Draco was never allowed to eat in silence, much as he tried to ignore all attempts at dialogue.
"I haven't seen Pansy here recently. Have the two of you had a falling out?" Harry asked, startling Draco who had a forkful of salad halfway to his mouth.
"Prying, Potter? How unlike you."
"Just curious and trying to make polite conversation. I have no ulterior motive. I know she works for you with the animals and I just wondered what's happened."
"You took away my business, thus you took away her business. She and I were partners, was that not evident in the testimony at the Wizengamot? I'll kill the solicitor for mucking up the facts."
"It was clear, no need for any killing. You still have income, Draco. The Wizengamot decreed that you could maintain the legitimate end of your business and continue dealing in the creatures that are not regulated by the Ministry."
"They may as well have thrown me in Azkaban. My sources for legal animals are also my sources for the less than legal ones. My name is mud. Again," Draco responded and finally looked at Harry. "Forget it, Potter. I'm not giving you any names, we've been over that. Being a stool pigeon was not part of the sentencing. You'll have to be satisfied with just me."
Harry smiled. "That's fine, I think I can manage to get satisfaction out this situation. But, Malfoy, " he said, looking around, "it looks like you've plenty of money. I thought business was good."
"It was, when it was happening on a regular basis, but feeding the many things that prowl this estate, yourself included," Draco said, nodding at Harry's lobster salad, "costs a fair bit. Thankfully, most of the house-elves are trained to care for the animals, and I don't have to pay them."
Harry's fork clanked to his plate as he stared at it. He finally looked up, mortification spilling out of every pore. "I am so sorry, I never thought..."
"Yes, well, by my accounts I have maybe enough for another six months and then I'll have to start selling off the furniture." Draco mournfully eyed the contents of the room. He sneaked a glance at Potter, whose hands were now tucked primly in his lap, staring forlornly at his lobster. "Oh, Potter, you really are too easy. Eat your lunch and then we'll see if we can't charm the clabberts out of the trees. It's stopped raining and the augureys have finally shut up."
Blessed silence for three whole minutes. Draco counted.
"You surprise me, Draco. Your knowledge of the animals is more than I would have expected. You have a real knack for it; with some more education you could be a magizoologist."
"Don't patronize me, Potter. For someone who supposedly 'studied' me for years trying to catch me, you know very little about me. Clearly Granger was not helping you with your research. I am a magizoologist, you imbecile. I studied in China on and off for several years, under some of the best in the world. Did you honestly think that I would enter into a business with an incomplete education? Unlike you, I do not throw myself into situations that I know nothing about. I don't like to be surprised."
"I underestimated you, Malfoy," Harry said, without actually looking Draco in the eye, as if a bit embarrassed by the compliment.
"Why should you be any different from everyone else?"
"I also surprised you, Malfoy. You have to give me some credit." Harry pushed back from the table and strolled over to study the calendars. "You haven't crossed off today."
"It's not over yet, and yes, you did surprise me. I don't like it."
"Well, that's an improvement. You haven't told me how much you hate me today."
Draco noticed the crup, his crup following Harry's every move. "Perseus, you traitorous beast, stop simpering at Potter!" Draco snapped his fingers, a command implicit in the action. Perseus ignored him in favor of abject adoration of Harry.
Harry smiled down at the little creature, offering a quick pat on the head. "Why, Draco, I think he likes me."
Week 12 A.P.I., three months After Potter's Interference and our heroes find a bit of détente
"Disappointed, Potter? Not quite the feather in your crusader cap that you had thought it might be." Draco had given up being angry over his twisted fate, and was now channeling that energy into being quite smug. Most of the creatures wandering his estate were actually very legal, obviously well-cared for and surprisingly tame. Since the ill-fated war with Voldemort, Draco carried a healthy sense of paranoia around with him, and thus he rarely kept illegal animals on the grounds; it was simply too perilous. His suspicions had served him well and the fact that it frustrated Harry Potter just made it all the more fun.
A better part of the day had been spent trying to count clabberts as they swung through the trees, but as they were well camouflaged and moved constantly, it was a nearly impossible task. Draco had suggested Immobilius several times, but Harry had steadfastly refused to use magic on the creatures. Eventually, they had estimated the final number and returned to the house for a warm drink.
"You know, Draco, there have been rumors for years that you have a quintaped on the property." He was petting Perseus, who had taken to following Harry's every move whenever he was on the grounds. It annoyed Draco that the crup was so fickle with its affections and was obviously so smitten with the git.
Draco's laugh was genuine. "They are found only on the Isle of Drear, Potter. Not to mention, highly dangerous. And what the hell would I feed it? Callous and brutal as I am, I'm not really given to human sacrifice. Besides, who would want one? There is no market for it. Did you really think you would find one here?"
"No, not really, but I did sort of hope. And erumpents, Draco? What about them?"
"Ah, more tea?"
It was Harry's turn to laugh. "No, thanks. I should go." Harry was crossing his own face off the calendars that were stuck to the walls, a habit he'd picked up recently and it had become a small joke between the two of them. When he had finished, he turned to Draco. "I'll be away for a few weeks. I need to tour some of the other reserves and check in with a few colleagues. I, um, well, you'll...?"
"I'll be a good boy, Potter. I'll just mark the days until your return." Draco waved in the general direction of the calendars.
Perseus whined for close to an hour after Harry had left.
Week 15 A.P.I, nearly four months After Potter's Interference and the young crup begins a slow decline
"I don't know what's wrong with him, Pansy. He is so listless— he barely eats, he's so lethargic where he used to be annoyingly bouncy. I've tested his blood, checked his urine, he seems healthy enough, but something is clearly wrong." Draco was watching Perseus, who would not move from the soft chair, the one that used to be occupied so often by Harry when he was here.
"Draco, how much do you know about crups, really? Perhaps it is emotional, not physical. He seems depressed. Have you been mistreating him? I know you never really liked him." Pansy was petting Perseus' fur and trying to get him to eat from the bowl on the floor.
"I know enough, and, no, I have not been mistreating him. The thing has actually grown on me. What are you suggesting, that I've stopped feeding it? Laid hands on it, somehow? I am beyond insulted."
"I did a fair bit of research on them before I gave you one, you know. They are intensely loyal to their owners, and also have the occasional tendency to project the emotions of their owners."
"You think I'm depressed? Lethargic? Not eating? Do I look sickly or in distress, Pansy? Despite what has happened over the past three months or so, I think I'm doing pretty damn well. So, you can let that line of thought go." Draco huffed around the room, and stopped suddenly in front of the wall of calendars, where multiple Harry Potters pulled faces or waved, though the ones with black Xs over them offered rude gestures. Draco watched in amusement for a few moments before a very unwelcome thought struck him. He turned to watch Perseus, who had caught sight of the photographs of Harry on the wall and wagged his forked tail just a little bit.
Week 22 A.P.I., nearly six months After Potter's Interference, a surprise from Potter, Perseus peps up and Draco is suspicious
I've a very sick unicorn. Please come, I need your help and expertise. The crup is a portkey, set to activate in 30 minutes. H.P.
Draco rubbed his fingers over the smooth surface of the tiny carving of the crup, wondering at the apparent connection between Perseus and Potter. He'd never been close to a unicorn; never had been able to procure them, his money and influence apparently no match for the shy, reclusive creatures. Where was Potter? And how had he got his hands on a unicorn? Grateful for an opportunity to get off the Manor grounds, he grabbed a few items before the portkey left without him.
Perseus was perkier than he had been for weeks. He yipped and nipped at Draco's heels, generally making a nuisance of himself. Draco finally banished him to the bedroom. With Pansy's words still rolling around in his head, he was a little bit afraid of what the crup's behavior might mean.
At first, Draco thought the portkey had dragged him to a different time zone. It was so dark he could barely make out his surroundings, but as his eyes adjusted he realized that he was in a very dense forest. Potter was nowhere to be seen.
"Draco!" Harry's head suddenly appeared very close to him, his words barely a whisper. "Come under the cloak with me and we'll be able to get closer. She'll be able to sense us, but without seeing us she won't run, not that she could just now anyway." Draco could see Harry's body under the invisibility cloak, his arms spread wide, making room for Draco.
"We both can't possibly fit under there, Potter," Draco said even as he was squeezing close to Harry under the silvery fabric.
"It'll be enough coverage for this, don't worry about your feet, just try not to trip."
As they approached, he could see a unicorn on the ground, her hide glowing in the dim forest. It wasn't until they crept closer that Draco noticed the real prize. A small gold foal lying at her side.
"Beautiful," Draco murmured. Entranced as he was by the sight, he was acutely aware of Harry's proximity. Out of necessity, Harry was practically wrapped around him, peering over Draco's shoulder at the two unicorns. He could feel Harry's chest rising and falling with every breath.
"Yes. I thought you might like to see them. I remember you saying that you'd never actually been close to one, except the detention we did together first year. Remember?"
"More than I'd like. The sight of Voldemort feeding off a unicorn gave me nightmares for months. I thought you said she was sick, Potter?"
"I exaggerated a bit. I wanted to be sure you came, and in case the message was intercepted I didn't want anyone thinking it was less than an emergency. We should go, I think we're making her nervous." Harry brushed off his knees and began walking away from the unicorns; Draco followed.
"You sly thing, Potter. Were you being nice to me?"
"Maybe a little. Are you going to mock me for it?"
"Maybe a little. But, why?"
"I told you, when I accidentally stumbled upon them this afternoon, I thought of you."
"Yes, because the single horn protruding from my forehead is such a likeness to the unicorn's. Or perhaps it was the fine white hide and long silvery locks?"
"I didn't say it reminded me of you, git, just that it made me think of you, there is a difference, you realize?"
"Relax, Potter, still teasing, remember? Whatever the real reason, I appreciate it. So, now what? I've seen the miracle of unicorn motherhood. Do I get sent back to the Manor like a good little inmate?"
"Malfoy! You are not an inmate, you are free to leave the Manor whenever you wish, just not the country, you know that. Why you insist on continuing to wallow in your supposed victimization is ridiculous. You could be doing any number of things that are perfectly legal, and actively helpful, but instead you hole away in the decaying Manor, feeling sorry for yourself and wailing about your misfortune at the hands of the evil Harry Potter!" Harry suddenly realized that Draco was no longer at his side, he turned to find him sitting on a rock, watching Harry.
"Are you finished, Potter? I didn't want to interrupt your terrific diatribe. You were really letting me have it. Color me impressed." Draco nodded, encouraging Harry to continue.
"No, I'm finished. But, you could, you know. Do something else."
"I know, but self-pity is so much more fun, and I wouldn't be me if I didn't work you into a lather every few days."
"You drive me spare, Malfoy. So? Do you want to go back to the Manor? Because I was thinking maybe we could have dinner first. I owe you for the countless expensive lunches, after all."
"You do owe me. I want lobster," Draco said.
"I was thinking something a bit more homegrown. I know an excellent place, The Sheep's Snout. Their treacle tart is quite good."
Draco's misgivings about Harry's choice of eating establishment turned out to be unfounded, despite the rather pedestrian name. It was actually a newer place, serving traditional English fare with a twist. Draco was relieved he wouldn't be reduced to eating something plebian like Shepherd's Pie.
It wasn't until the starters arrived that Draco noticed that the silence between them was awkward. In a room full of chatting customers, they were the only two studiously not talking to each other, or even looking at each other. Putting Potter out of his misery seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do.
"So, Potter, you've never told me exactly why you got into the animal crusading business, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't really find that out."
Harry nervously fingered his napkin. "It was because of Hedwig, actually. She was the one constant in my years at school, and she was with me in the summers when I couldn't be at school, you know? She kept me connected to the wizarding world when I felt totally separated from it."
"Hedwig? I thought that Granger's first name was Hermione?" Draco couldn't help himself.
Harry laughed, as he was meant to. "My owl, you dolt. Hagrid gave her to me for my eleventh birthday. She was killed the summer before what would have been our seventh year at school, if I had gone. After everything was over, I felt lost. People were picking up the pieces of their lives, moving on, and I couldn't seem to do that. Most of my life had been wrapped up in Voldemort's. When I didn't have that hanging over me anymore, I didn't know which direction to look in, where to walk, or what to do. The memories of her just kept sticking with me, haunting me almost, and I didn't want to ever forget her. So, I started a small organization in her honor, to help magical animals."
Draco just nodded and took a small sip of his wine. "How noble of you, Potter. Made my life hell, but that's not new. You've been doing that since we were eleven."
"Malfoy, how do you do it? You ask about me, I tell you something deeply personal and somehow it ends up being all about you."
"It's a gift. But, honestly? I thought you were destined to be an Auror, out fighting magical crime and the like? What happened to that?"
"After the war I was done with fighting. I had my fill of dark wizards doing dark deeds. Animals are far less complicated. I needed things to be simple in my life and I wanted things to be straightforward; being an Auror meant winding my way through the political machine." Harry shook his head. "That was the last thing I wanted."
"But, you work with the Ministry on a regular basis. Don't you navigate the bureaucracy all the time? How is that any simpler?"
"I work with them, not for them. And, I do it on my own terms. Big difference. Not being a teenager helps, I'm a lot smarter now." Harry pointed at Draco. "Don't say it!"
Draco laughed and took another sip of wine. "Not a word, I swear. I'm actually more impressed than you might believe of me. You're doing something good in the world, no surprise there. You're doing it without a lot of fanfare; that actually is surprising, given your history. And believe me I'll never say this again, but you're not too bad at it. Well, if you subtract the clumsy attempts to apprehend me over the past many years, I'm sure the other aspects of your work have been incredibly agile."
"Prat. I wasn't clumsy."
"Unicorns, Potter? A phoenix?"
"In my defense, the phoenix was a diversion, meant to throw you off. It worked, if you remember."
Draco had no reply to that. Dinner arrived, saving him from having to reply. He wondered what Perseus' mood would be when Draco returned to the Manor.
Week 117 A.P.I. , approximately two years after Potter's Interference, or more commonly known as twelve years after The Battle of Hogwarts, and maybe, just maybe, life isn't ruined after all
"Master, there are two wizards, two nifflers and an augerey in the waiting room. And today is Thursday, Master." Dipsy said.
"The augerey has come alone? That seems highly unlikely, but go ahead and bring that in first. I know perfectly well what day it is, you don't need to remind me every week. Lunch is in the library today. Show Potter there when he arrives."
Dipsy giggled, covering her mouth. "No, Master. One wizard has brought two sick nifflers, the other wizard is with the bird."
"I assumed that, you imbecilic elf. Show him in. Don't forget—the library!"
"Yes, Master."
Business was once again booming for Draco Malfoy, though not ever in the way he could have possibly expected. Tending to sick magical creatures had been Potter's idea, and while Draco had fought it tooth and nail, it had turned out to be a wise decision in the end. And really, his options were limited. He'd grown bored not long after Potter had declared the place ship-shape and free of illegal creatures. The rest of his sentence was a waiting game. When Lavender Brown had turned up in a panic one day at the Manor, sick Snidget in hand, the course of his future had been decided.
"Lunch was, as always, delicious. Thank you." Harry pushed back from the table. "Shall we get the inspection over with?"
"In a hurry today, Potter? Have a date you need to prepare for?" Draco could practically smell the anxiety rolling off Harry. It was most unusual. He generally lingered over the weekly meal, and then slowly investigated the Manor and grounds, all to satisfy the terms of the sentence with the Wizengamot.
"I..no, no date. I'm not in a hurry. I just..." his voice trailed off and he stared at Draco. Perseus was winding his way around Harry's ankles, nearly tripping him up.
"So articulate. Whatever is the matter? I can see and smell the perspiration from here. You're as nervous as a kneazle in heat."
Harry glanced over at the calendars on the wall, while absently patting Perseus on the head. The last several weeks' worth of photographs had not been crossed off. "Why haven't you been crossing off my pictures, Draco?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't know, forgot I guess. It was funny at first, now it just seems silly and childish. Is that a problem? I can do it now if it'll help you relax."
"No, I just wondered what it meant, that's all."
"What what meant? You think there is some mysterious meaning at work here? I'll assign Dipsy the task of inking a large, black X over your face every day. Happy?"
"No." Harry sighed and sat down.
"No. No what? No, you don't want the elf to cross you off? No, you're not happy. Or no to some unvoiced thought in your head that you're not sharing with me? I'm not a mind-reader, Potter. What is it you're trying to say?" Draco's voice rose with frustration.
"I've really grown to like you over the past couple of years, Draco." Harry nearly whispered, a marked contrast to Draco's sudden explosion.
"ARGHH, POTTER! Is this some new technique to drive me mad? It's working. What are you on about? First, you show up here, like you do every Thursday, except this time you're drenched in sweat. Then you go all cryptic about the stupid fucking photographs on the walls that have been there for over two years, and now you decide that telling me you like me is going to make it all make sense. You've taken a page out of the Book of Stupid by Longbottom!"
"OI! Neville's a friend. Watch your mouth!"
Draco threw his hands in the air. "This is the point over which you choose to argue? Did you come here to pick a fight?"
"No! I came here to...to...to kiss you!" Harry stood suddenly and moved closer to Draco.
Draco's heart stopped beating for an instant and he could feel a red tide of heat washing over his body. But, he was a Malfoy. He caught sight of Perseus, who was lolling on his back on the carpet squidging around, grunting appreciatively. The animal looked positively gleeful, and the import of Perseus' infatuation was suddenly quite clear. Draco had been blaming his crup for the obsession with Potter, when really he should be blaming himself. Pansy had been right all along.
"Draco?" Harry whispered, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain, in the wake of Draco's silence.
Draco turned his eyes to Harry, took a deep breath and smiled. "Why are you telling me, and not showing me?"
Harry's smile was all relief, and he expelled the breath he'd been holding. He stepped into Draco's personal space, his mouth mere inches from Draco's. He hovered there a moment, not quite touching, just watching, until he finally put Draco out of his misery, and kissed him, pulling away slightly to murmur, "I know how you feel about surprises."
fin