Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I am not the owner of Harry Potter or anything related to him. I can wish all I want but the fact of the matter is that he already belongs to J.K Rowling...despite how ticked off I am at her for the direction that she's currently taking my two favourite characters!

A/N: Hey guys! Just a little warning, this story is AU and does involve some violence in later chapters.

“Mr. Potter, you have a call on line one.”

Harry looked up as Miranda's voice filled his office. Sighing, he glanced over to the telephone sitting on the corner of his desk. Sure enough, a small flashing light was emitting from the phone indicating that there was a call in queue.

Thanks to a certain determined, bushy-haired Gryffindor, Muggle technology had been incorporated throughout the Ministry of Magic. For the most part it made things a lot easier, but then there were times like these, when he wished everything was still done by owl. At least back then he could answer questions when he wasn't in the middle of something.

Oh well, if they are already waiting they can afford to wait a little longer.

Quickly filling out the paperwork he'd been working on, he slid it into the envelope and sealed it. Once done, he reached over to hit the intercom button and called His secretary. “Miranda, I've finished the paperwork on the Johnson case. Can you make sure that it is sent to Keith's office to be scanned and coded?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter. I'll do it right away.”

Releasing the intercom button, he leaned back in his chair, glancing at the phone. I wonder how much trouble I'd get in if I just disconnected the call? he thought playing with the idea. Probably none. Half the people here still don't know how to properly use them yet...unless of course it's Bloomfield. He'd skin me alive.

Harry grumbled and reached for the receiver.

“POTTER!”

"Holy fu-" Harry jumped back as an extremely loud and yet familiarly annoying voice filled the room. Glancing back at the intercom, he frowned.

“Potter, you have to tell me where you found your secretary. She is absolutely delicious! I shall have to get myself one.....although I can't really complain. Blair has an incredibly nice arse!”

Harry glared and hit the intercom button again. “Miranda, I suggest you get Mr. Malfoy out from behind your desk and get back to work. Otherwise, you will find yourself leaving the premises faster then he can sweet talk you.”

“Oh...err...” Harry could practically hear the blush in her voice. “I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, it won't happen again.”

“See that it doesn't.”

“Yes, sir!”

“And send the idiot in!”

“Yes, sir!”

Harry glared at the blond as he came through the door and picked up the phone, answering the waiting call.

“Head Auror Potter, Unspeakable Division.”

Draco smirked and closed the door behind him. He headed around the desk to where Harry was reclined in his chair and sat down directly in front of him. Harry sent him a warning glare, but Draco only smirked in return before using his legs to pull Harry's chair closer.

“No, the Hernandez case still has to be coded before it can be sent out. It was supposed to be in Keith's office yesterday,” Harry replied, trying to ignore Draco and concentrate on the call.

Draco moved the phone cord out of the way and leaned in to place open mouthed kisses on Harry's neck, sucking lightly on the skin that he could reach.

Harry bit his lip to keep from gasping as he tried valiantly to push Draco away from him with one hand. “Find that case, Jen. I don't want another screw-up like last week. The Boy-Who-Lived title comes in handy once in awhile, but sooner or later they are going to get tired of excuses.”

Draco chuckled at the comment, but continued to lavish attention on Harry's neck while his hands slid down the brunette's chest.

“Look, there is something I have to take care of. I'll check in with Keith at 5 o'clock. Make sure the file is there,” Harry replied, before disconnecting the call and shoving Draco back with both hands.

Draco attempted to stay where he was but Harry was far stronger.

“What the hell do you want?” Harry snapped, unhooking Draco's legs from his chair and putting distance between them.

“Well, I thought that would have been obvious,” Draco responded cheekily.

“Get off my desk!”

“Ahh, your desk,” Draco replied, sliding his hands along the finished wood. “I always liked this desk, especially when you would fuck me on it...over and over again. It was very hot.”

Harry gritted his teeth and repeated himself. “Get off my desk!”

“Don't tell me you don't miss it. I know you do.” Draco smirked. “You haven't dated anyone since.”

“My personal life is none of your concern.”

“Ouch, Harry! I'm hurt,” Draco replied, pouting. “Even you have to admit the sex was great!”

Harry glared. “You forget, I wasn't having sex nearly as often as you were,” he replied, coldly.

“Are you still on about that?” Draco sighed. “It was only a one time thing. I don't know what the big deal is.”

“Yeah, it was a one time thing, 37 different times.”

Draco grinned. “The good old days.”

“Are you here for a reason?” Harry snapped. “Or are you just being a slag?”

“Fuck you, Potter!”

“Already did that, didn't you? Me and half the bloody population of London.” Harry shot back. “Now, why the hell are you here?”

Draco glared for a moment before giving in. If he didn't tell him, his own ass would be on the line. “Bloomfield wants to see us in his office.”

“When?”

Draco glanced at his watch. “About five minutes ago.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “And you're just telling me this now?”

“Looks that way, doesn't it?”

Harry stood and made his way out of the room, leaving Draco to follow. “Miranda, cancel all my afternoon appointments. I've got a meeting with Bloomfield. Don't worry about rescheduling them. I'll do it when I come back.”

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” she replied, before glancing back at the entrance to Harry's office.

Harry caught her look and glanced up as well. Draco had just come out of the office looking quite disheveled. His hair was mussed, his lips were flushed and his clothing was a little on the rumpled side. He looked suspiciously like he'd just been shagged. Walking by them, Draco cast a wink at Miranda and purposefully let his hand stray against Harry's stomach.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. With a sigh, he glanced back up at Miranda, who was looking at him with a knowing expression on her face. “I'm going to kill him,” he muttered, then turnedaround and following the blond out into the hall.

Stepping through the door, he spotted Draco leaning against the wall, a smug expression plastered across his face and his clothing and hair back to their normal positions. “Let me guess.” Harry replied, sarcastically. “You were trying to restore your reputation?”

Draco scoffed. “My reputation does not need restoration.”

“Really?” Harry asked, heading down the hall in the direction of Bloomfield's office. “Have you stopped receiving hate-mail from people who are disgusted by the fact that you cheated on the Savior of the Wizarding World?”

Draco glared. “I've had them re-directed and I think that fame has inflated your big head.”

Harry smirked at the admission. “I've learned to use it to my advantage,” he replied. “I never heard you complain when it was working in your favor.”

“Of course you wouldn't,” Draco replied, haughtily. “It saved my ass on occasion.”

Harry rolled his eyes and continued down the hall in silence, trying to ignore the blond's presence, which was extremely difficult with Draco touching him every five seconds. “Do you mind keeping your hands to yourself?” Harry snapped, spinning around to face him.

“I would, actually,” Draco replied, smirking. “You have a great arse.”

“Touch me again and I will cut off your arms!” Harry declared, before storming the rest of the way to Bloomfield's office and knocking on the door. Draco followed at a slower pace.

“Come in.”

At that Harry pushed the door open and entered. “You wanted to see us, sir?”

“I wanted to see you five minutes ago, Potter,” Bloomfield replied, looking up from his paperwork.

“I did inform him of that, sir,” Draco responded, stepping into the room. “He insisted on being difficult.”

Harry shot him a glare and opened his mouth to retort.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Bloomfield interjected, setting his quill and papers aside. “Now that you're both here, take a seat.”

Without another word, Harry and Draco sat in the chairs adjacent from the desk.

“There's a new assignment,” Bloomfield started. “It seems there is something new building up. As of right now, we don't know the specifics of it, but we're getting high readings of Dark Magic accumulating in the Northern parts of Scotland.”

“Do you suppose it's the remaining Death Eaters trying to stir up trouble?” Harry asked, contemplating the situation.

“The only ones capable of producing anything even close to the level of Dark Magic needed to tip off the Ministry are Voldemort, Lucius, Bellatrix, Severus and myself. Voldemort, Lucius, and Bellatrix are dead. Severus is working for the Order of the Phoenix, and I am working for you.” Draco responded. “I can safely say that it isn't the Death Eaters.”

“Voldemort had supporters in other nations. It could very well be them,” Harry responded, not yet willing to give the argument up.

Draco shook his head. “None of them would be stupid enough to risk the discovery of the British Ministry of Magic. No other ministry is as powerful within Europe. The only ministries that come close are the United States, Canada and Japan. With Voldemort it was different, he had power. His minions don't come close.”

“Then what do you suppose is happening?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Draco shrugged. “Don't know. Bunch of idiots fooling around with things they don't understand.”

“Indeed,” Bloomfield exclaimed, sarcastically. “Keep in mind that I want more than speculation from the two of you.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry responded. “I'll have Paige dig up...”

“No.”

Harry and Draco both raised an eyebrow at this. “No?”

“No.” Bloomfield repeated. “The two of you will be Apparating out tomorrow morning.”

“What?” Harry gapped.

“You will be working with the Scotland Auror division, using their data records on the situation. I believe they have also recruited some wizards from North America as well, mainly Canadian and American. We'll be sending any information that we acquire here on this end.”

“But...I can't go to Scotland.” Harry exclaimed, shaking his head. “I have...surely you can find someone more qualified to do this!”

Bloomfield raised an eyebrow. “You two are the most qualified Aurors in the Unspeakable department. Under normal circumstances, the regular dispatch of Aurors would be from the law enforcement division, but given the circumstances of the assignment, we've been called in. I want both of you here tomorrow morning, 8 o'clock sharp.”

Draco grinned at the gob-smacked expression on Harry's face. “Just think, Harry. A romantic trip, just for us!”

“This is not a pleasure cruise, Mr. Malfoy,” Bloomfield replied, sharply. “This is an official assignment.”

“Yes, sir. We understand that,” Harry replied, before Draco could do any more damage. “May I ask one further question?”

Bloomfield sighed. “Yes, Potter, you have to go.”

“I understand that, sir,” he replied. “That wasn't the question I wished to ask.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“Is there a magical version of a Muggle restraining order?”

Bloomfield raised an eyebrow. “There is a slight difference but it accomplishes the same thing. Why?”

“Would you mind having one drawn up for me?” Harry asked, smiling. “I'm going to need it when I come back.”

“Yes, I can have one ready.”

“Thank you.”

Nodding to Bloomfield, Harry stood and made his way out of the room, leaving both Draco and Bloomfield staring after him.

“Well, Malfoy. You've really got yourself in deep this time.”

Draco shrugged. “He'll get over it,” he replied confidently, although inside he wasn't too sure that it would happen.

“You had best hope that he does, because if I have to transfer one of you to another department, it will not be him.”

Draco winced slightly, then stood up and following Harry out of the room.