Work Text:
Stage 1: Sobriety
Harry let out a massive sigh as he slumped further down in his chair. It had been the longest day at work: First, he and Malfoy managed to stop a robbery down in Knockturn Alley, and later they arrested a young wizard who was dealing illegal potions in muggle London, just before they had to rush off and question a couple of witnesess regarding a murder investigation, and after that they had apparated straight to Mrs Lindon’s garden, to get her kneazle out of a tree. She’d claimed it was an emergency, like she always did, but they should’ve known better by now. The file reports concerning Mrs Lindon were as high as all their other cases piled together. He and Malfoy were literally drowning in paperwork that needed to be done as soon as possible, otherwise one or several cases would be taken from them, which both of them were too stubborn to let happen. That’s why they were still stuck at work, writing one report after another.
Harry took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He couldn’t do this anymore. He just wanted to take the floo home, grab something to eat and then sleep for a few hours before the whole thing started all over again. To top things off, he had to do a presentation tomorrow for the Muggle Prime Minister, to tell him about the benefits of incorporating Muggle police exercises in the auror training program. He was so unprepared, but he gathered that he could write up his presentation before going to bed. Besides, Malfoy was doing the presentation with him and he had been working on his part for a couple of weeks now. Maybe Harry could borrow some notes.
Harry cleared his throat and looked over at Malfoy’s desk, where he appeared to be sitting deep in concentration. As Harry’s eyes lingered, he could see that Malfoy’s reading glasses were balancing on the tip of his nose, and something that sounded suspiciously like snoring reached his ears. Harry couldn’t suppress a smile. Malfoy looked so peaceful in his sleep. He was usually so strict, and his hard yet handsome features always made him look like a right twat. But now, his face looked soft and inviting. In a platonic way, of course. It was Malfoy for Merlin’s sake. Surely one could appreciate fine features in a friend. Harry could even admit that Ron was a nice looking bloke as well.
Ignoring the fluttering feeling in his stomach, it was probably because due to lack of food anyway, he tried to get Malfoy’s attention again.
“Hey, Malfoy?”
Malfoy startled and his head shot up, making his glasses fall on the table. With a confused expression he locked eyes with Harry.
Harry chuckled, “Were you sleeping?”
Malfoy shook his head violently. “I did no such thing. I was merely resting my eyes to escape the horror of Mrs Lindon.” He took his glasses and folded them neatly into his breast pocket.
Harry laughed. “Your snoring said otherwise.” He ignored Malfoy’s spluttering protest and continued on. “Anyway, I was thinking of heading home. I finished the case files for today, except for the rest of Mrs Lindons reports which I’ll leave for tomorrow. Robards can take all of my cases, I don’t fucking care anymore. I’d rather take an unforgivable curse than continue to work on this.”
“We have our presentation tomorrow, there’ll be no time for paperwork,” Malfoy said in a slow voice, like he was talking to a child.
“Yeah, about that...” Harry began.
“No! Absolutely not, Potter!” Malfoy stood and went to gather his belongings.
“I didn’t even finish my question! You don’t know what I was about to say!” Harry said as he followed Malfoy’s lead and went to get his things.
“You were about to ask me if you could borrow my notes for tomorrow, and the answer is no. Do your own bloody work, will you?”
Harry was just about to answer with a snarky comment, when the door to their office opened and Ron stuck his head in.
“You done, Harry? They’re waiting down at the Leaky.” He turned towards Malfoy. “You too, ferret face.”
Malfoy flipped him off, but there was no venom behind it.
“What?” Harry asked, confused. He was ready to go home, so whatever Ron had planned would have to happen another day.
“It’s Seamus’ birthday party. We planned this forever ago.”
“Fuck. I totally forgot. I thought it was this Saturday?” Harry asked.
“Nope! Dean is going to surprise him with a trip to Ireland that day, you know that.”
Yes, unfortunately, Harry did know that. He looked pleadingly over to Malfoy, trying to convey with his eyes that he should come up with an excuse to save Harry’s sorry arse. But he just smirked in response.
“What’s the harm in just one drink, Potter? I bet Finnigan will be very disappointed if you don’t show.”
“Fine!” Harry huffed. “But you’re coming with.”
“Very well, lead the way.”
Stage 2: Euphoria
“This is really nice, isn't it?” Harry said, slamming his forth beer down on the table. He could feel how all the stress was leaving his body, he hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time. “I really needed that one,” he continued, to no one in particular.
All of Harry’s friends were scattered around the Leaky in different constellations. He sat and watched them with amusement, feeling happy that he actually took the time to see his friends after all, even though he’d been very busy at work and had that presentation looming over him. It was totally worth it, he thought, while looking around the room. Ron was dancing with Seamus and Dean, a weird dance that somehow involved circling around Luna, while she flopped her arms around in the middle. Draco was over by the bar chatting away with Hermione and Pansy. And he could see Ginny and Neville downing shots together with Blaise.
Harry picked up his glass again and put it to his mouth, but there were no lingering drops left, so he decided to head towards the bar. Another drink wouldn’t hurt him. He wasn’t wasted or anything, just a pleasant buzz under his skin. He still had time to come up with something for tomorrow. The presentation was going to go great. He had Malfoy. Talented Malfoy. The two of them together could certainly pull this off.
As he went to the bar he couldn’t help to dance along to the music, swaying with every step. He knew he had the goofiest smile on his face but he was too happy to be self conscious about it. Sometimes it was just nice to let go a little.
He slung an arm over Hermione’s shoulders when he reached the bar, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He could see both Pansy and Malfoy looking at him funny, but he was too happy to care. He gave them a little wave instead.
“I see you’re in a good mood,” Hermione laughed.
“It’s just nice? Isn’t it nice? Everyone’s happy. Work’s over. There’s drinks. There’s no work.”
Hermione snorted. “You mentioned work already, Harry. Maybe you’ve had enough to drink for tonight?”
Harry waved her away and tried to get the attention from Tom in the bar. “Pfft!” Harry said, while ordering another. “It’s fine, Hermione. I’m totally peachy.”
“The fact that you use words like peachy indicates you had one too many. Don’t you and Draco have that big speech tomorrow?” Hermione looked worryingly at him.
“We do,” Malfoy said, with a nod. “I could probably do that speech in my sleep. Potter here, on the other hand…” He gestured towards Harry.
Harry scrunched up his face and put a finger up to shush Malfoy. “Yeah, about that?”
“Still a no, Potter! And get your hands off my face.”
Harry could feel his lip starting to pout. “You’re no fun,” he muttered. He took his newly ordered beer and drank half of it in one long gulp, and then put the pint glass down on the bar. Only that he miscalculated where the bar actually was, so the glass ended up on the floor, beer splashing everywhere. Hermione and Pansy left out a little screech, while Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.
Stage 3: Excitement
Harry was in the middle of a shot race with Seamus, when he got the brilliant idea that he should inform Malfoy what a good partner he was. He’d never told Malfoy how much he appreciated him and how much Harry enjoyed working with him, but he should totally do that right away.
Harry dragged Seamus in for a hug, and shouted into his ear. “Mate, I’m going to talk to Malfoy. Tell him how much I like him. Like work. No, like working him. With him?”
“Finally!” Seamus shouted over the music. “Thought you’d never get it.”
“Get what?” Harry was feeling a little bit woozy, Seamus’ face refused to stay still long enough for Harry to focus on it.
“That you fancy Malfoy.” Seamus laughed. “Go get him, tiger. Rawr.” Seamus did a funny thing with his hand, like a claw slashing through the air.
Harry couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him. He was so occupied with laughing that he didn’t bother to correct Seamus about the “fancying Malfoy” thing. He was just a great partner, that was all. A great, fit partner. With beautiful eyes. Pretty much everything one could wish for in a work partner. And now was the most perfect time to tell him.
Harry stumbled towards the table where Malfoy and Pansy was sitting, and he flopped down into an empty chair. He put his hand over Malfoy’s on the table, and cleared his throat. Malfoy raised his eyebrows and looked down at their joined hands.
Harry meant to start with saying that Malfoy was great at his work. But what came out instead was, “You have very fit eyes.”
Malfoy removed his hand from the table. “I have what, now?”
“Eyes.” Harry nodded. “You have eyes.”
“Indeed I have. How great of you to notice.” Malfoy turned to Pansy. “Do you mind leaving me a minute alone with Mr Sloshed over here?”
Pansy nodded and left the table, laughing as she went.
“I’m not sloshed, Draco. I’m a tiny bit tipsy. Point stands. You have beautiful eyes.” Harry tried to poke Malfoy’s eyes to see if they felt equally pretty.
Malfoy leaned back to avoid Harry’s wandering fingers. “So that was what you were trying to say.” Malfoy shook his head. “The answer is no, Potter. You can’t borrow my notes.”
“What notes?”
Malfoy let out a big sigh. He put his hand in Harry’s hair, and carded through it a couple of times. Then he took a firm grip and shook Harry’s head gently. “You’re awfully adorable when you’re intoxicated, Harry. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” He rose from his chair but then leaned down and kissed Harry on the cheek.
Stage 4: Confusion
Harry didn’t know how long he’d been sitting at the table, staring into the distance, when Ron sat down beside him.
“Great night, huh?” Ron leaned against Harry.
“Malfoy kissed me,” Harry said, still staring out in the open air.
“Good for you mate,” Ron said, ruffling Harry’s hair.
“What?” Harry looked over at Ron, who had the most silly smile on his face.
“Good for you mate. Now you can finally act on your feelings. I’m happy for you.” Ron gave him a hug that Harry didn’t reciprocate.
“My feelings?” Harry tried to steady his gaze, but Ron was sliding in and out of focus. He shook his head and swallowed a couple of times, because his throat felt very dry. But, thinking about drinking something made Harry’s stomach turn ominously. “I have feelings?”
Ron looked at him funny. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Your feelings for the ferret. Very loving feelings.”
“Huh,” was all that Harry managed to get out. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times.
“Oh, Harry!” Ron clapped Harry on the back. “You didn’t know?” Harry shook his head. “Sorry, mate. But you do.”
“Huh,” Harry said again. “I’m in love with Draco Malfoy?” he asked out loud, mostly to himself, but Ron answered anyway.
“Yes, you are. I think you’ve had enough now, Harry. You should go home and sleep it off. I’ll go find someone who can help you get home safely.” Ron winked, and then stumbled away, leaving Harry feeling very confused.
“Huh. I’m in love with Draco Malfoy.”
Stage 5: Stupor
Harry was vaguely aware that people were talking around him. But he couldn't quite lift his head from the table. He tried to tell them that he was fine sleeping here, but he couldn’t even manage to get any words out.
“What’s wrong with Potter?” someone who sounded like Malfoy asked.
“Oh, he just found out that he had feelings for you.” a Ron-like voice answered.
“Is that so? Well, it took him long enough didn’t it?”
“Tell me about it. The way he’s always talking about you, I’m surprised he hasn’t jumped your bones already.”
“There will be no bones jumping today, Weasley. I wanted him to figure it out for himself. I’ll make sure he gets home, let him sleep this off.”
“Thanks, mate. I owe you one.”
“Oh, you certainly do. And I intend to collect. Tell me, Weasley, isn't it true that your wife is on a first name basis with the Prime Minister?
Harry could feel that he was slowly floating in the air, and then there was a whooshing feeling. And everything went black.
Stage 6: Coma
Stage 7: Death
Harry woke up feeling way too hot. There was a loud roaring in his head, and he felt like death himself. Oh my god, he thought. I’m dead. This is what hell must be like.
“I’m dead. I’m so, so dead,” he gasped out. His words were met with a chuckle.
“Stop being such a baby, you’re not dead.”
Harry squinted and looked around the room. His eyes landed on an angelic figure, sitting in his dressing chair at the corner of his room.
“Since when are there angels in hell?” he grunted, and put a pillow over his head. It was too bright anyway.
“Oh Merlin, it hasn't worn off yet has it?” He heard footsteps approaching the bed, then someone tapped his shoulder. “Here, drink this. And don’t you dare throw up at me. Again, I must add.”
Harry slowly peeked out from under the pillow. Malfoy was standing by his bed, holding out a vial for him to drink. He downed its contents and the horrible taste of a hangover potion made him dizzy. He clutched his stomach desperately, wishing that he’d get to keep the potion down.
After a couple of minutes he could breathe normally again, and he even managed to sit up, glancing over at Malfoy, who was looking at him with an amused smile.
Hazy flashbacks told Harry that he’d made an utter fool of himself yesterday, and he could feel his panic rising.
“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out, then instantly covered his mouth with his hands, as if he could take the words back. But Malfoy just smiled at him and sat down beside Harry on the bed.
“Yes, you are,” He grabbed Harry’s hand and linked their fingers together. “And we will talk about that later, after you — “
Harry cut Malfoy off. “Shit, the presentation. Draco, can I please — ”
This time, Draco cut Harry off instead. “No, you can’t borrow my notes. I was going to say that you should get some rest and we’ll talk about what’s happening between us afterwards. The Prime Minister cancelled, and I told Robards that you needed a sick day.” He leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek. “I need to go to work and save your sorry arse. Mrs Lindon’s kneazle is trapped in her basement, again.” He looked at Harry with a nervous frown on his face. “I’ll see you tonight?”
Harry nodded, and he lifted their joined hands to kiss Draco’s knuckles. “Tonight.”