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Author's Note: Thanks to Ashley for her brilliant beta skills. Also, thanks to everyone who reviews. I know I'm not as responsive to every single one as I used to be, but if someone has questions I can answer I try and do so, but I do read and enjoy every single one, so thanks again! My loyal readers and reviewers are who keep me posting so frequently.

Chapter 11 The Road to Hell

Harry stumbled as he emerged at their destination. He never could get the hang of traveling by Floo, although he still preferred it to the sickening pull of Apparition. Apparently the restaurant Draco was taking him to was called Gio’s, which he only knew from having to shout it into the fireplace.

Once he gained his bearings, Harry nearly gasped at the sight before him. Columns made of a stone that seemed to shimmer in the light flanked each side of the fireplace, and that same stone flowed beneath their feet, making it look like they were walking on a bed of fairy lights. Luxurious looking crimson fabric hung from the ceiling in long draping runs and seemed to continue throughout the entire restaurant. The hostess walked over to greet them and led them through the building until finally stopping at a secluded table surrounded on three sides by rich leather walls that went almost to the roof.

“This place is amazing, Malfoy,” he admired aloud, knowing full well this was probably the reaction the blonde had wanted all along.

“It’s my favorite,” Draco admitted, gesturing to the glowing opulence. “The food is even more fantastic than the scenery.”

The view from their booth was truly breathtaking. As soon as they sat down,the area around them seemed to shift until it looked as if they were sitting on a warm stone patio in Tuscany. The smell of fresh grapes and sunshine on the manufactured breeze surrounded them. Vineyards seemed to stretch for as far as the eye could see and Harry could just imagine lying in a hammock and sipping lemonade with such a view.

“I bet this never fails to impress your dates,” Harry remarked, partially teasing but laced with a pang of regret that he was most certainly right. It seemed every moment he spent with the former Slytherin he had to remind himself that Malfoy was a professional seducer.

Draco merely shrugged and neither denied nor confirmed Harry’s voiced suspicions. I recommend the Bruschetta for a starter,” Draco replied, ignoring Harry’s question outright. “The vine-ripened tomatoes they use are to die for.”

Harry let the subject fall and simply nodded in reply as he perused the menu the hostess had left them with. Everything sounded amazing, and if Draco’s assessment of the food being even better than the ambiance, there probably wasn’t one single thing on the menu he wouldn’t enjoy. Finally he decided on the Veal Scaloppini and set his menu to the side, finding Draco staring at him from across the table.

“Do I have something on my face?” Harry asked with a smile, knowing full well that he couldn’t have since they hadn’t begun to eat yet. Now afterward… no one could really predict, but Harry wasn’t terribly clumsy with his food.

“No,” Draco admitted. “You’re just nice to look at.”

Harry felt the blush creep across his cheeks at the comment. Such a simple and ordinary compliment coming from the blonde seemed so much more. Draco’s charming voice, his regal posture, his pouting lips and even those deep gray eyes made it more. For a moment Harry even allowed himself to believe the pretty line, but he knew deep down that it was probably only one of a hundred he’d used in the past on other hapless victims. Regardless of how tender and loving the former Slytherin seemed on the surface, Harry would continue to remind himself of the cunning serpent that still lay beneath that glossy facade.

Quickly recovering, Harry rolled his eyes before narrowing them petulantly at his date. “If you don’t want to tell me you could just say so. You don’t need to spout rubbish instead, Malfoy. Just tell me it’s none of my business.”

His pale face dropped into a tight frown and Draco stared back at him for a moment before speaking. “You don’t believe me?”

“Should I?” Harry asked, wishing the other man didn’t insist on playing games.

“I certainly can’t make you, but yes, I had hoped you might bestow some fragment of trust on me,” Draco responded before slipping out of his seat. Harry felt a momentary sense of panic, thinking the blond was planning to leave him all alone, but tried not to show his concern outwardly. He could find his way back to the office after all, even if he didn’t know quite where he was.

“I’m going to the loo. If Melody comes while I’m gone, can you place our order?” he asked, and a breath Harry hadn’t known he was holding was suddenly released.

Harry nodded quickly in return. “What should I order for you?”

“Just tell her the usual,” Draco answered with a smirk before disappearing out of sight.

Harry thought it was a bit odd that Draco had known their waitress by name before she was even introduced to them, but he realized why that must be when he saw the woman in question. Melody, or at least Harry assumed that was the name of the woman who approached them with a hovering quill and notepad over her shoulder, was a beautiful blond, nearly as golden in color as Draco’s and her face reminded Harry of a timeless actress he frustratingly couldn’t recall the name of.

“I’m sorry, Sir, should I wait for Draco to get back so that you can order together?” the woman asked.

“That won’t be necessary,” Harry replied with a polite smile. “He asked for his usual.”

“Excellent,” she noted as the quill scribbled away on the notepad, “and for yourself?”

“The Veal Scaloppini,” Harry answered, “and an order of the Bruschetta for us to split,” he amended; happy he hadn’t forgotten. “You seem to know Draco fairly well,” he blurted out before she had an opportunity to walk away.

“He’s been coming to this restaurant since he was a boy,” she replied fondly. “I’ve gotten to see him grow up.”

Harry nearly balked at her words, not understanding how someone so young could have done as she described, but a closer look –assisted by his innate magic and Auror skills- showed Harry well-masked crows feet and graying hair. The woman was using glamour to hide her true age, which was at least thirty years older than he had originally suspected.

“He seems to really love this place, and I can see why,” Harry mused.

“Draco is a bit of an enigma. He still comes in here often, but I can feel the loneliness emanating off of him like a palpable wave. In fact, you’re the first person I’ve seen him bring,” she observed.

“That can’t be right,” Harry laughed. “With all the lovers he’s had over the past few years I find it hard to believe he hasn’t brought a single one of them here.”

“I wouldn’t believe everything you read about Draco Malfoy in the papers, Sir,” she chastised sharply. “Someone like you, Mr. Potter should know that nearly half of it is lies and the rest is exaggeration.”

Harry winced at the comment but shook his head. “I’ve a bit more solid evidence to go on than Prophet articles.”

“Then why are you here?” she asked curiously.

“I-I,” Harry stammered, unable to come up with a plausible explanation. The truth of it was, he had no idea. At some point during the Gala he’d felt a camaraderie with the blond. There was certainly a connection there and Draco was obviously trying to remain a gentleman, so wasn’t it only fair that Harry gave him a shot?

“Well, whatever it means to you, it’s obvious to me the boy thinks of you differently. Draco would never bring someone here as a date if he wasn’t serious about them,” she informed Harry before smiling softly and disappearing with their orders.

Harry wanted to refute that fact, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue and the waitress had already left him to his thoughts, so he would have only been fighting with himself. It was hard to believe, in fact impossible to believe that the other man had already fallen for him –however slightly. They’d only had one date and it had been littered with distractions and interruptions. No, this whole act: the restaurant, the waitress, the oozing sweet compliments, they all had to be just another part in his scheme to trick Harry into bedding him.

Draco was back before Harry got the opportunity to brood on it for too long. He slid into the booth across from the Gryffindor and smiled uncomfortably. “Did the waitress come around yet?” he asked simply.

“Yes, but then I’m sure you knew that since you sent her around to fill my head full of nonsense,” Harry replied bitterly.

“What?” Draco asked, looking genuinely confused.

“Was it merely a coincidence that she showed up the second you left, or that she decided to tell me that you’ve never brought anyone else here, acting as if I was special to you in some way?” Harry asked coldly, folding his arms across his chest even though it made him feel like a petulant child. He didn’t like not being able to trust the man he was dating, if that was even what this was.

“She what?” Draco hissed in shock. “I most certainly have brought other people here,” he corrected. “I’m sure of it, I love this place, so I must have taken a date here at some point.”

Harry didn’t understand. Why would Draco send over the waitress to lie to Harry if he was just going to contradict it when he returned? Unless he didn’t send her over at all…

With a groan, Harry sunk his head to the table to hide his blush. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I’ve been sitting here assuming that you’re up to something when apparently you’ve been innocent all along.”

“That’s not very diplomatic of you,” Draco observed, though when Harry looked up the blond was still smiling.

“No, it’s unfair of me,” Harry admitted.

“Lucky for you I’m a forgiving man,” Draco teased. “Though perhaps I should ask you for something in return for my leniency.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow as he wondered how he could be so dim as to fall into that trap; and with Draco Malfoy of all people. Of course the prat would turn things around on him, probably wanting to use Harry’s slip to glean some sort of sexual favor.

“What did you have in mind?” Harry asked, pretending to play along and expecting the worst.

“Another date,” Draco offered. “I have tickets to the opera this Friday. Would you be my escort?”

A warm rush flowed through Harry as all his previous speculations about the blond were dashed against the shore of Draco’s words. No plea for sex or even so much as a kiss had left his lips, instead Draco merely asked for something that Harry probably would have agreed to anyway.

“Of course,” Harry said at last, unable to hide his grin for the rest of their meal. They fell into amicable silence when their food arrived and ended up staying far longer than Harry’s lunch hour would have allowed if he weren’t the boss. Draco told him about his career goals and how he one day hoped to be running the most profitable and notable wizarding company in Europe, while Harry told his date about the intricacies of his job as an Auror that he had never expected growing up.

“The paperwork is a nightmare,” Harry admitted, “but otherwise it’s very rewarding to be able to go out and help people. I excel at catching the bad guys,” he teased.

“Well, you caught me,” Draco reasoned with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Did I?” Harry asked, curious as to how much Draco really felt for him and how much was still a mask. Merlin only knew how Harry was slowly but surely finding himself more and more comfortable in Draco’s company.

A slight frown erupted across the blond’s features and he merely shrugged. “I suppose you did.”

Harry studied the other man, watching the conflict glimmer through those deep gray eyes and he wondered what emotions were roiling through the man at that moment. Did he begrudge the fact that he actually liked Harry, or was it something more?

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Draco asked, his frown transforming into a soft chuckle as he waved his wand and a set of shining gold numbers hovered between them, informing them the time was half past two.

“Shit!” Harry cursed as he leapt up from the table. “I’ve been here over an hour too long.”

“So maybe I’ve caught you as well?” Draco mused with a smirk, but Harry only blushed slightly in response. “I’ll take you back,” he said at last, motioning for Harry to take his hand.

As soon as they touched the butterflies in Harry’s gut flapped and swirled and threatened to break free. His own hand fit perfectly within the blonde’s, their fingers intertwined automatically as if Draco’s hand was home. Oh yes, he was caught all right.

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“They went to lunch, but barely touched the entire meal. Are you certain that there is something to worry about here? They seem to be taking things slow all on their own,” Hedrick reported dutifully.

“I’m certain of it. This is Draco’s way. He’ll be charming and aloof and then the moment he finds the other person’s vulnerability he exploits it,” Lucius grumbled. “He might be falling for Potter but it won’t keep him from falling back on old habits.”

“Well, they seemed friendly, but not like the ravaging beasts I expected after your warning,” Hedrick commented. “They did nothing more than hold hands briefly as they walked to the Floo.”

“What restaurant did they go to?” Lucius asked, leaning back in his heavy leather desk chair.

“Gio’s,” the man replied.

Lucius’ forehead wrinkled dramatically at the news as he tilted his head to the side in deep thought. “He’s never taken a suitor there before,” he whispered, more to himself than to his spy. “What does this mean? Is he upping the ante, trying to get Potter smitten with him quickly and more thoroughly? Maybe he was merely trying to impress Potter once again by taking him to an exclusive restaurant -or was it even a conscious decision on his part?” Lucius quickly shook that idea from his head. Everything his son did was a conscious effort to expedite his conquest.

“Well, they made plans to go to the opera Friday night,” Hedrick informed him.

“It will be trickier for you to tail them there, Draco has a private box at the theatre,” Lucius mused, not liking where this was leading. “They’ll have their first kiss there,” he predicted.

“With the way things were progressing this afternoon at lunch, I highly doubt that, Sir,” Hedrick replied. “They were amicable, but barely. They even argued.”

“The pair can’t be within twenty feet of one another without battling over something. Who won?” Lucius asked.

“Pardon?” Hedrick replied, confused by the blond man’s question.

“Who. Won. You said they left hand in hand, so obviously someone gave in,” Lucius reasoned.

“Potter gave in, Sir,” Hedrick recalled.

“This is worse than I thought,” Lucius groaned before slamming his fist roughly onto the desk. He calmed himself before looking back up at his new employee. “Do all that you can to make sure their trip to the opera isn’t as eventful as their lunch today,” he reprimanded, waving the man from his sight before bowing his head against his smooth desk surface.

It was going to take more than Lucius had originally suspected to slow the progress of this relationship. It seemed Potter was falling faster and harder than his son was, and if that rate continued, it wouldn’t be long before Draco got his way.

“What was VonCrown doing in our home?” Narcissa asked from the doorway, startling Lucius from his musings. She floated into the room looking stern and every inch the capable witch she was.

“He’s spying on Draco for me,” Lucius admitted at once, knowing full well it was folly to lie to his wife.

“Just spying?” she asked skeptically, and Lucius turned away from her.

“He’s been instructed to stop any physical activity before it gets too intimate,” Lucius replied, waiting to see how angry his wife would get at this revelation.

“Lucius, that’s a brilliant idea,” she whispered, her smiling face lighting up the room.

“I know it was reckless of me, but hear me out. I think Draco and Potter could be good together, but not if our son wins his prize before falling in –wait… did you just say it was a brilliant idea?” Lucius asked, frowning harder than he had been when he suspected he was in trouble.

“Of course, I’ve been thinking that as well,” Narcissa admitted. “Our son is stubborn like his father, it will take him a long time to realize his true feelings for Potter and until that happens, he’ll need to be kept out of Potter’s bed.”

“My logic precisely!” Lucius exclaimed, ignoring his wife’s backward observation about him.

“Yes, good work, My Love. Though do be careful,” she warned. “This monitoring of Draco’s activities could easily blow up in your face.”

Lucius’ mood sobered quickly and he nodded to his wife. “I’m taking every precaution I can,” he assured her before accompanying her to the dining room for dinner.

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Ron shifted uneasily as he looked down at the note in his hands. It was just a simple note, written on fluorescent pink paper that simply read ‘It’s here. Come and get it’ and signed ‘Stephanie Pincus, Head of the Department of Research and Archives’.

Normally such a note would fill Ron with relief, knowing that answers to a case were now within reach, but not this time. This time any answers he got would surely just lead to more questions and Ron didn’t think he could take it if the information in Harry’s file was nearly as bad as Harry was making it out to be.

Ron was at a crossroads and he knew it, he could go up and accept the file from the trusting Department Head or he could leave it be as Harry had asked. With renewed determination, Ron resolved to go and talk to Harry one last time before resorting to perusing his friend’s file, but when he walked over to the man’s office, he was nowhere to be seen.

“He’s out to lunch with Draco Malfoy again,” the receptionist informed him when Ron asked if she’d seen his Gryffindor friend. “He’s so hot,” the woman added before blushing at her slip.

“That’s the fourth time in as many days,” Ron grumbled as he walked to the lifts. Sure, he was the one who had encouraged the date in the first place, but only because he never thought his friend would take him seriously. Not to mention, he figured that even if Harry did go on a date with the man he’d only have a bit of fun before breaking things off like he usually did. He only wanted his friend to cheer up a little, not fall in love with Draco Fucking Malfoy.

Ron shook his head and took the lift to the Archival Department. Now more than ever he needed to save his friend from himself. If Harry could so easily fall for a lothario prat like Malfoy, he was worse off than Ron had suspected.

“Ron,” Stephanie greeted upon seeing the redhead linger in her doorway. “I take it you got my message.”

Ron nodded, unsure if his voice would be as wavering as he felt. He wanted his friend to be happy, more than anything, even if that meant going behind Harry’s back and reading his file. “So you have it?”

“Right here,” Stephanie replied, pointing to a stack of parchments in several manila folders. It was probably thick enough to take up one entire drawer in Ron’s office. “I just need you to sign for it.”

“Sign for it?” Ron asked, as he looked down at the crisp white pad she placed in front of him. It had a list of names down one side, a list of what seemed to be random letters and numbers in the center column, and a list of signatures on the far right of the page. His name was already written next to a line that read ‘HJP07311980’ but no signature was yet levied to make him responsible for the file.

“Yes, all high security files must be signed out so that we can track who has them,” she explained easily.

A quill floated over to his hand but Ron just stared at it for a moment, wondering what he was getting himself into. What if Harry found out he’d taken the file –or potentially worse, what if Hermione found out? If Harry didn’t want to tell him about his past, what right did Ron have to pry? But on the other hand, at this very moment his best friend was having lunch with his longest running childhood enemy. There wasn’t much that screamed ‘lonely’ louder than Harry dating Malfoy.

With a sigh, Ron grabbed the quill and scribbled his signature on the page, praying to Merlin he was doing the right thing.

Author's Note: bumbumbum. Lucius is sneaking, Ron is sneaking -even Harry's keeping secrets. When did Draco become the good guy of this tale? lol