#lealam

“Harry Potter,” something whispered in his ear and again, he spun around to see nothing. Was today the breaking point of him finally going insane?

“You are Harry Potter.”

“Yes?” Harry answered, looking around the room and still not seeing anything.

“You do not enjoy being Harry Potter.”

That forced Harry to pause. He opened his mouth to reply, but found himself at a loss for words. The voice was right, he didn’t enjoy being Harry Potter. Being Harry Potter meant, well, everything that happened today and more. It was days like today that had him wishing that Harry Potter was just another name amongst the others.

“I can make being Harry Potter go away.”

Harry’s grip on his wand tightened, still trying to look around the room for where this voice could be possibly coming from.

“I can make Harry Potter be just another person.”

Harry’s brows furrowed as he listened to what they were saying. Could it be possible? Could Harry really be an equal to everyone else?

“Potter,” Malfoy drawled out, sounding exactly the same as Harry remembered and also less than happy to be here. He hovered in the doorway, looking down his long pointy nose at Harry. Some things never changed.

“Take a seat,” Harry instructed, motioning his hand to the chair in front of his desk.

Malfoy tutted to himself and moved to sit down, leaning his cane against the desk. It allowed Harry to have a good look at it, noticing how it had none of the fancy silver work Lucius’ used to have and instead opting for a more simplistic sleek design.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of being summoned to the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?” Malfoy asked as he tapped his nails on the wooden arm rest of the chair he was sitting in.

“Well,” Harry leaned back in his chair and studied Malfoy’s expression, trying to get a gauge of how best to deal with this. “I’ve been made aware of some complaints–”

“Oh, here we go again,” Malfoy muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Mr Malfoy.” Harry did not want to snap this early. Surely it wasn’t hard for Malfoy to let him at least finish his sentence? “As I was saying, some complaints have been made and–”

“Why are you dealing with my complaints?” Malfoy interrupted again. “What happened to the usual complaints officer?”

“Sent into an early grave dealing with you, no doubt,” he bit back, unable to help himself. Malfoy was so fucking difficult, it made him want to pull at his hair. This was why Harry had avoided him for so long, Malfoy had an innate ability to worm his way under his skin like no one else.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Regardless of why, I’ll be dealing with your complaints from now on.”

He found Potter standing awkwardly in the hallway, hands fiddling with his sleeves. Oh, Merlin.

“Stop looking like a lost child in my hallway,” he offhandedly said, hanging up his coat with a quick spell then walking past him to enter the living room.

“Prat,” Potter replied as he followed.

“Git.”

Draco caught Potter’s eyes and, a second later, they were both grinning at each other. Everything felt normal again, just for a moment.

“What do you want, then?” Draco asked, cutting to the chase.

“Do I have to want something?” Potter frowned, plopping down onto the sofa and kicking his feet up.

Draco shoved Potter’s feet back down to the floor. “Why else would you be here, bothering me?”

“Do I not look gay enough?!”

Potter laughed too loudly. Under the table, Draco kicked his shin.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, you didn’t realise I’m gay and you’ve known me for years!” Draco put his palm to his forehead. “This is a disaster, do I really look straight?”

“Need me to hold your hand?”

Draco glared at him. He didn’t know if that was to offer emotional support for being perceived straight or to make him look gayer.

“There, there, I’m sure you’ll get over this devastating discovery,” Potter said sarcastically.

“I hate you,” he hissed back. “I’m a disappointment.”

Potter laughed more, moving his hand forward. “Offer is there.”

Draco smacked Potter’s hand away, yet he was unable to hold back his grin. “Ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath.

“Do you need some dessert to cope with his revelation?”

“Can you just cook for me forever? I’ll do whatever you want.”

Draco laughed quietly under his breath and raised his eyebrow. “Anything I want?”

Potter went bright red and choked slightly on his mouthful. He reached for his wine to help swallow his food. Draco didn’t imagine it would help much, so quickly summoned him some water.

“I apologise. I must be more delicate with you, it seems.” Draco let himself smirk slightly at the other before taking a sip of his own wine, happy with the damage he’d caused.

Potter coughed again. “You, uh, you don’t. If you don’t want to. It would be weird.”

“Weird?” Draco asked with a raised eyebrow, placing his wine glass back down onto the table.

“And can I know your name, since you know mine?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s Harry.”

“Harry…” Draco spoke the name aloud, but it didn’t feel right. Sure, it was his name, it just felt weird in his mouth, like it was wrong for him to be saying it.

“Harry Potter,” he continued, eyes glued on Draco’s face.