The Tale of Adrien and \'Rrny

The moment they entered the studio, Harry knew he had done the right thing. Almost twenty other young men were lined up against a blank wall, posing eagerly as a chocolate haired man walked among them, inspecting them like cattle.

There were all types of blonds in the group. Sandy blonds, strawberry blonds, bleached blonds and wasn't that the hysterical boy who posted a video of himself on magictube? The "leave Stubby Boardman alone" kid?

Eager parents waved at their children hopefully, while goth would-be boyfriends stared at the studio in awe. It was a maddening spectacle, in Harry's humble opinion. The carnage that had being born over the search for Adrien Girodelle.

Specially since he could tell none of the blond boys trying out for the part was good enough to compete with Malfoy's grace, the nobility in his posture, or the way his aged eyes were staring around himself as if he was in a new, undiscovered world.

Most likely this was the first time the blond had taken the subway, much less walked the streets of muggle london.

"New comers?" asked a bored-looking Asian woman with thick glasses as she handed Harry a clipboard. "You must be the father, fill this up while the boy stands with the others."

Without really looking at them or hearing Harry's protests that he wasn't in fact Draco's father, she took the blond by the arms and pretended to drag him towards the group of teenagers staring at him enviously. Harry wanted to slap himself silly as he caught Malfoy's annoyance reflected easily in his eyes. If he was not careful the other man would snap at them, curse them if they were lucky and storm out of the studio in a huff.

The project would be lost.

"W-wait! Take your hands off-" he tried to say, however Malfoy had already placed his thin hands over the woman's, his eyes glacial.

"Do not touch me, please," he said coldly.

The woman blinked her wide eyes behind her glasses in surprise. Not only had Malfoy remained as he stood, completely unmoved by her manhandling, but his eyes had proceeded, quite simply, to pierce the annoying woman with graceful scorn, effectively making her feel like a worm beneath his shoes.

Harry knew that stare quite well, as he had been recipient of it for the last thirty years? It was the same one that made you want to squirm away, apologize and maybe hide your face in a hole never to be seen again.

Many of the blond boys and the chocolate haired man turned to them in surprise, their eyes wide and mouths shockingly hanging open. The woman was, aparently, someone terribly important and the Malfoy patriach had terribly offended her.

"Listen, boy," she said threateningly.

"No, you listen, young woman," Draco interrupted. "I came here because it was asked of me. I do not come because I'm a big fan, nor because I understand the passion of the abyss as those other brats most likely said in a clear demonstration of teenaged ignorance. I will audition, as it was my promise, and I will take my leave. So, shall we hurry the proceedings? I do have other things to do than waste my time with burocratic nonesense."

Now every single eye in the room was focussed on Malfoy, a deafening silence fell over the room. Harry slapped his forehead for real then, mentally compossing a fan letter to Mr. Von Schwartz for having spoiled the only chance he would have had to having his dream come to life.

He had completely underestimated Malfoy's ability to be the most obnoxious creature on Earth.

"What's your name, young man?" asked the chocolate haired man, approaching them with a frown on his handsome face.

Malfoy stared at him, his hands still on the Asian woman's.

"It is only polite to introduce yourself when you want to know someone else's name, don't you think?" he said mockingly. Patronizing the man.

The chocolate haired man chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"My name's Alfredo Bahva," he introduced himself. "The director."

Draco nodded.

"My name is Draconis Malfoy," he said, as if the name of one of the most awarded directors in the world (Harry had researched) meant absolutely nothing to him. Most likely it didn't.

"Well, Draconis, can you read this for me? As you said, I am a busy man as well and it would be better to rush the proceedings?" Alfredo said, handing Draco a scrip marked in yellow highlights.

The blond nodded, rolling his eyes for a moment before concentrating on the text. Then he turned to Harry, his eyes narrowed.

"Is this for real?" he asked, annoyance clear on his voice. The Asian woman bristled, Alfredo grinned.

Harry nodded meekly.

Malfoy sighed deeply, gathering his patience more than likely, before he closed his eyes.

The room stared at him nervously.

The man took a breath, then two more.

A second passed, maybe a minute, Harry couldn't tell with the butterflies currently playing quidditch in his stomach. This was the moment of truth, as far as he was concerned. Malfoy was the living image of Adrien in real life. He had the looks, the eternal youth, the attitude, but could he act like the character as well? Could he interpret the sorrow?

His breath catched on his throat as Malfoy finally opened his eyes, his breath coming out in a choked gag.

Mr. Bahva and the woman gapped.

The other aplicants started shivering.

A crystaline tear made its was down an ivory cheek.

Draco Malfoy was crying.

"Mon Roi," he whimpered, french accent thick. "Mon Roi, Mon Frère, Mon péché, the one I will always love with the innocence of human creatures. The one that keeps my heart from the abyss. I'm sorry, my beloved, my brother, I'm so sorry."

The blond's voice catched then, broken.

Harry felt something thick lumped in his throat, chocking him. It was such a beautiful image.

Malfoy then brought his hands together in the form of a christian prayer, something Harry couldn't believe the other wizard understood.

"May your soul be taken to heaven by the angels, my king, my dauphin, for this lowly servant of your desire must remain on earth to pay for the sins in my blood."

Slowly, the blond brought his hands to his face, wiped the tears and schooled his face into its normal emotionless mask.

"Was that ok, Mr. Bahva?" he asked simply.

Alfredo nodded, shocked. The Asian woman stood rooted to her spot, eyes full of tears and lips trembling.

Malfoy regarded them all boredly, the pink spots on his cheeks the only evidence of his previous tears. He was really a profesional, then, one that Harry could not have dreamed of.

"Mrs. Chen?" Bahva said then, eyeing the Asian woman with a nervous twitch. She turned to him, her eyes still wide.

"It is amazing," she said in awe. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Daco shrugged.

"A friend from school taught me how to cry on comand, a stupid bet, I'm afraid," he explained, his eyes lighting up fondly. Harry frowned. Who had taught that to Draco, certainly not Crabbe or Goyle, had it been Zabini? Nott? Someone else?

A cold feeling suddenly pooled in his stomach, but he refused to acknowledge it.

The Asian woman, Mrs. Chen, took Draco's hands in hers once more, her eyes bright.

"Welcome aboard, Mr. Malfoy, or should I start calling you Adrien from now on?" she asked excitedly. Malfoy nodded, a small smile curling his lips.

"Draco is fine, Ma'am," he said politely. "I'm honored, I must say."

"Don't be, Draco," Alfredo laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are perfect, I mean, you are young, the color of your hair, your eyes, it's all the same as in the book, yet when you look at me I am the one that feels like a foolish boy, how old are you really?"

Harry was about to open his mouth when Malfoy's smile turned to a smirk.

"I'll be forty next month," he said confidently.

Harry groaned in despair, only to stop and blink when Mrs. Chen and Mr. Bahva laughed.

"I don't know the kind of magic you hold, Draco, but I could almost believe that," Mrs. Chen said her eyes full of adoration for the charming boy before her.

Harry swallowed a laugh when Draco looked over the shoulders of Mrs. Chen and Mr. Bahva and rolled his eyes.

'Muggles,' he mouthed.

Harry snorted.

The sudden sound reminded the director and his assistant that he was still in the room, for they both turned to him at the same time, embarrassed smiles on their faces.

"You must be Mr. Malfoy, then," Alfredo said, offering his hand. "You have one talented son, sir."

Harry squeaked, Malfoy started laughing loudly.

"I am not Mr. Malfoy!!" Harry protested.

"That's true," Draco said. "Harry is an acquitance."

The welcoming look in Mrs. Chen's eyes froze, as did the smile on Alfredo's handsome face. Malfoy's smirk widened the moment Harry realized how they must look to them then.

The beautiful seventeen year old, charming the way into their hearts.

And the fourty something guardian jealously watching over the prosedure. Not a parent, not a relative.

Harry hung his head, flushing.

He looked like a pedophile.

"I'm his manager, Harry Potter," he grumbled out, trying to shake the disturbing image of his adult body embracing Malfoy's young one.

Someone from the group of eager parents gaped at him then, a woman, her eyes falling immediately to Malfoy's form. The blond glared at her, muttering a curse under his breath. The woman, obviously a witch then, narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

Mrs. Chen nodded, her eyes still mistrustful.

"Then Mr. Potter, I believe you and I have much to discuss regarding Draco's contract," she said, walking towards the room's exit. Harry hurried to follow, calling Draco from over his shoulder. Not sure he wanted to leave the smaller blond alone with a room of angry and disappointed teenagers, jealous parents and a witch who obviously recognised them both.

Alfredo threw his arms around Draco's shoulders then, his smile blinding in intensity.

"Why don't I go to introduce Draco to his co-stars while you see to the paperwork, Mr. Potter? I'm sure he will need to get acquitanced with the other actors right away. Also Mr. Von Schwartz's agent is here, and he will be so happy to see the search is over."

Draco nodded, his eyes full of amusement.

"Can I, Harry? Please?" he begged childishly, smile innocent.

Harry frowned, shaking his head.

"I don't know..." he muttered.

"Come on, Harry," Alfredo said then, happily. "Jonathan is harmless."

"I resent that, Mr. Bahva," said a man, walking into the room with an amused smile on his face.

Harry gapped.

He knew that man, of course he did! Anyone in the world with a tv set knew who that man was.

"Ah! Jonathan, I was just about to look for you," Mr. Bahva said happily. "This is Draco, I believe you might guess who he is, he will be playing the part of 'Rrny."

Jonathan nodded, his deep blue eyes honest and intense at the same time.

"A pleasure meeting you, Draco," he said, shaking the blond's hand.

Draco nodded, cheeks flushed.

"The pleasure is all mine, sir. I do hope you are patient with me."

"Please, just Jonathan is ok," the actor said warmly. The blond nodded.

"Mr. Potter," said Mrs. Chen, impatient. "Your charge will be fine with Mr. Bahva and Jonathan, please follow me."

Harry nodded, still in shock and followed the woman out of the room and into a mess of hallways and cramped offices. His mind still swirling with the image of Draco, Malfoy, holding hands with the handsome Jonathan.

"I can't believe it," he whispered. Mrs. Chen turned to him.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

"Draco is going to work with King Henry VIII?" he squeaked. Mrs. Chen laughed.

"That he will, Jonathan is very eager to play the part of 'Rrny, and I'm sure he and Draco will make a great duet."

Harry nodded, iddly hearing the woman prattle about the contract, Draco's schedule, his paycheck. The image of the two of them together did not fade from his mind. And for the first time he wondered whether it had been such a good idea to share Draco, his discovery, his own personal Adrien, with the world so early.

To Be Continued.