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One Harry Potter, Please (If Possible, Seduced and Ready)

EPILOGUE


"Is there something wrong with the eggs?" Harry asked worriedly after watching Draco frown at his plate for a minute.

"No." Draco looked up and smiled. "They're fabulous," he assured him.

Harry nodded, not quite convinced because Draco was unusually quiet. Harry had promised Draco a fabulous breakfast on Monday morning, but now he feared that it wasn't so fabulous after all.

Their weekend, however, was fabulous. On Sunday morning, Draco had woken Harry up by blowing in his ear and informing him that it was time to convince Draco again that he was gay. Harry had done so eagerly by lying on his back and making Draco straddle his hips.

The act of convincing had been very successful and while he watched Draco throw his head back and ride Harry's cock, Harry himself had been newly convinced that he was utterly and completely in love with Draco Malfoy.

Later, they had ordered in their food and Harry had scared Draco by turning on the TV.

"I hate Muggles," Draco had declared after five minutes of daytime television and Harry couldn't think of any argument to justify the silly things the television set had showed them.

They never went on their date, though at one point Draco did try to leave home to get some clean clothes. Harry lent him some of his own clothing but that had proved to be counterproductive. The sight of Draco wearing Harry's jeans and Harry's shirt made Harry feel oddly aroused and had ended up convincing Draco he was gay on the kitchen table.

The kitchen table that now no longer served naked Draco Malfoys but bread and sausages and eggs, which Draco clearly didn't like.

"Maybe they're too salty?" Harry asked. "Because I could try again —"

"Potter, I love the eggs," Draco said firmly. "Quit worrying. If I knew you could cook like this then this whole mess would never have happened. I need a cook."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I'm not a house-elf."

"Fortunately." Draco grinned as he took a bite of his sausage.

Appeased, Harry asked innocently, "You like sausages?"

"Love them."

"Really? Have you always liked them or have you just recently discovered this?"

"Er, I always liked —" Draco stopped speaking and instead he glared. "You're a reservoir of bad puns, Potter."

Harry chuckled. "I just wanted to know whether you like all sausages or just mine."

Draco rolled his eyes, but blushed as he took another bite.

"What will I do with you?" he asked fondly after he swallowed. And then he checked his watch.

Harry tensed, worried again. Draco seemed very distracted this morning, as though he was planning something. "Are you going somewhere?"

"The Ministry? We still have jobs, remember?"

"We have to leave in forty-five minutes," Harry said, then added suggestively, "A lot can happen in forty-five minutes."

Draco bit his lip. "I have to go home first, Potter. I'm wearing your clothes, if you haven't noticed. I can't go to work like this."

"Why not? You look great," Harry said honestly.

"Because these are your clothes. Don't you think someone might notice?"

Harry looked down at his plate and stabbed a sausage. "Are we hiding?" he asked, trying to sound neutral.

"Harry."

Harry didn't plan to look up, but hearing Draco say his name forced him to do so.

"We're not hiding. I'm not ashamed of this, if that worries you," Draco said gently and Harry tried hard not to show that that had worried him. "But that doesn't mean we should advertise it, Potter. We work together, we're partners, some people will object and they could make things harder for us."

Harry sighed. When Draco put it that way it made sense. "You're right," he admitted reluctantly.

"Of course I am," Draco said smugly, then pointed his fork at Harry. "See that sentence right there? Memorise it. You'll need it in the future. A lot."

Harry grinned, but then sobered as Draco checked his watch again.

"You know," Harry began, "I have clothes I never wear —"

"Potter, I'm wearing cotton underpants. I am not happy." Draco took a sip of pumpkin juice and added, "By the way, we will discuss your underpants collection soon."

"Can't wait," Harry assured.

"I have no wish to be uncomfortable at work," Draco went on. "Especially since we'll end up with some stupid tedious assignment yet again. Can you believe our Head of Department?" Draco ranted. "She's horrid. Making us do stupid stuff all the time."

"Um. About that . . ." Harry said, thinking he should let Draco know that the stupid assignments were his fault. Draco looked expectant and Harry lost his nerve. He should be honest. Or, Harry reconsidered, he could be smart. Harry cleared his throat. "That woman is horrible," he said emphatically. "I should talk to her. Be very firm and everything."

"Yes!" Draco agreed eagerly. "We should talk to her. This just can't continue."

"Right. I'll talk to her."

"Potter, I think we should talk to her together. I mean" — Draco coughed a little — "don't take this personally, but I don't think she likes you very much."

Harry couldn't argue against that as he suspected it was true, so he was left worrying about the upcoming conversation between them and an innocent woman.

"I really have to go now," Draco said and got up.

Harry pouted, but as he studied the way his jeans hugged Draco's hips, he suggested coyly, "If those pants bother you so much maybe you should take them off. In fact, let me help you." Harry grinned and sprang out of his chair.

Draco's eyes widened and he edged backwards, but Harry was faster. In no time, he wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, pulling his captive closer.

"Potter," Draco groaned exasperatedly. "I have to go," he grumbled against Harry's ear.

"I know," Harry sighed, burying his nose in Draco's hair and inhaling his scent. "I just wanted to make sure you don't leave without a goodbye shag. Er, I mean kiss. I meant to say kiss. I really did."

"The sad thing is, I really believe that," Draco chuckled. "My poor sexually starved partner." Draco tilted his head and gave Harry one lingering kiss that made Harry's toes curl and his limbs weaken.

"I'll see you in half an hour," Draco promised and freed himself from Harry's grasp, then took a step back and Disapparated, leaving Harry breathless.

Eventually, Harry snapped out of his Draco-induced daze and grabbed his cloak to Apparate to the Ministry. His plan was to wait for their Head of Department and accost her when she arrived. He planned to beg her for the most exciting assignment available. He hoped that some excitement would prevent Draco from complaining to her.

The whole thing backfired, of course.

Harry was promised excitement if he agreed to guard the Minster today while the Ministry presented a new law. The law was already approved by the Wizengamot and was meant to give more rights to various magical creatures. Riots were expected, had even been announced by people who thought that the Ministry was giving too much freedom to the half-breeds and by people who thought that it was too little.

All in all, it sounded promising and upon hearing the news even Draco had been excited at the prospect of arresting many many people.

However, the whole thing was just dull. Apparently, though many had been indignant they weren't bothered enough to show up and protest. A couple of drunken disorderliness that included two wizards and a witch yelling contradictory statements and waving a little "House-elves are people too" flag was all Draco had and Harry had to deal with. Which was just enough to make them do paperwork later.

They spent their entire day listening to boring speeches and then watching high Ministry officials drink and celebrate until they were so drunk they forgot why they were so happy in the first place.

The only bright moment of the day was Harry forgetting his gloves. He exploited that fact by claiming that his hands were freezing and spent every opportune moment discreetly shoving his cold hands into every pocket he could find on Draco's attire. That was more entertaining than it should have been.

At the end of the day, as Draco and Harry made their way toward the deserted Auror Department, Harry promised himself that he would never try to manipulate their assignments again.

Harry was completely exhausted when he collapsed into his chair, though his mind was busy trying to come up with a sensible reason that would convince Draco to leave their paperwork for tomorrow and to find a different way to spend their time.

He had just decided to claim that his hands had frozen and now hurt so much he couldn't possibly hold a quill when he was cruelly distracted by a rather frightening item lying on the desk.

The item was frightening because it was pink and heart-shaped. The general frilly look of it, with a bow and a golden-inked message that proclaimed something cheesy about kisses, seemed suspiciously like one of Derek Hogan's gifts.

Worried, Harry grabbed the box and mumbled, "I'll throw it away."

He had almost done so, but Draco stopped him by crying, "Wait!"

Surprised, Harry looked up, but Draco was looking down at the papers in front of him, a tiny smile playing around his lips.

"Maybe you should open it," Draco said innocently.

Perplexed but intrigued, Harry carefully opened the ridiculous box. He had expected chocolate because that was what the picture on the front displayed, but there was no chocolate inside; instead, the box was full of paperclips.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Funny."

Draco didn't laugh, however, and he still avoided looking at Harry; his cheeks were just a little pink. He cleared his throat. "Well, you know what giving someone paperclips means," he said quietly. "Mind you, there are five hundred of them in there."

Harry blinked, not quite sure why Draco was blushing, but thinking about Draco's words he remembered that he had used a paperclip to tell Draco he loved him. Until now, he hadn't been completely sure if Draco had understood him or not. Harry looked down at the shiny metal paperclips again and suddenly the intended message was clear: I love you, too. Five-hundred times as much.

Harry swallowed heavily and carefully closed the box with shaky fingers. He put it in a drawer, the one with a key, for safekeeping.

"You planned this in the morning," he said and Draco grinned, still blushing.

"Guess I'm all set as far as paperclips are concerned," Harry whispered.

"That's the idea," Draco said and then finally looked up, his grey eyes intense and his smile almost shy.

Harry pressed his lips together, afraid that he would say something incredibly embarrassing.

Draco set his quill aside and opened his mouth, looking like a man with an exciting plan. Harry was already smiling and planning to say yes to whatever Draco suggested, but then Draco's expression transformed into a scowl.

Harry frowned and then froze as a file was placed before him and a familiar voice said, "Here you go, Harry."

Harry steeled himself and looked up at Derek Hogan, who had apparently sneaked up on them. Derek seemed tired and out of spirits.

"Derek." Harry nodded. "You stayed in late."

"I'm on my way out. Just thought I'd stop by and give you this."

"What is it?" Harry asked as Draco suddenly cried, "Hey, Derek!"

Harry winced and sneaked a glance at Draco, who was smiling beatifically at Derek.

"Er, hey," Derek said tentatively and then looked at Harry again. "It's just a report about those cursed objects you asked for last week."

Harry nodded, relieved that Derek remembered work related stuff, which he was supposed to, but worried it could mean that Derek remembered other things as well.

Draco obviously had no such concerns. He was still smiling widely as he said, "That was very kind of you, Derek."

Harry stepped on Draco's toes beneath the desk but Draco didn't even flinch.

"Well, I should go now." Derek sounded nervous.

"Bye, Derek!" Draco said pleasantly.

Derek grimaced and, after a sad sort of look in Harry's direction, he turned to leave.

Draco didn't stop smiling and Derek hurried towards the door, looking nervously over his shoulder at the overly happy blond.

"That was very rude," Harry chastised after Derek left.

Draco stopped smiling. "I was being polite," he said haughtily.

"Right."

"He should know, in case he remembers something, that if he wants to get to you he has to go through me," Draco said darkly.

Harry sighed, amused but pleased. "Will this potential confrontation involve naked mud wrestling?"

Draco scowled, then pushed his papers aside and placed his palms on the desk. "Let's forget about Hogan and discuss something much more important."

Harry tensed. "Uh. Is this about my underpants? Because, Draco, I am not wearing silk . . ."

Draco's lips twitched. "We'll see about that. But no, this is about . . ." Draco looked around at the empty cubical. "This desk."

"Er, what about it?"

"Does it look" — Draco pressed his palms firmly on the desk and shook it, waggling his eyebrows — "sturdy to you?"

Harry grinned, thinking back to those times when he had imagined pressing Draco to that very desk and having his wicked way with him. Back then, such a thing seemed out of Harry's reach.

Harry bit his lip, rose up a little, and leaned in to press a small kiss to Draco's lips. Draco was in his reach now.

"Well," Harry said as he pulled away and placed his palms over Draco's, revelling in the warmth of Draco's skin and the warmth of Draco's smile, "there's nothing stopping us from finding out."

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THE END

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