Tingo Temere

This wasn't what he had in mind when he was forced into a private study with the blonde. They had to invent a spell modifier for their Magical Theory instructor. This was, in fact, the very last thing his imagination would conjure even at the pique of his creativity. One, he never expected to be training in the Auror's elite corps with Draco Malfoy. Two, he never wanted to be partnered up, creating a potentially dangerous new spell, with someone who had actively tried to cause him bodily harm. The fact that Harry DID cause Malfoy bodily harm at one point escaped his recollection. Three, he would have never willingly picked the situation he found himself, and Malfoy, in had he been given the chance. At least… he didn't think so. He was, however, starting to have doubts the longer the altered spell lasted.

One Day Prior

“…with the advent of new Muggle optronic technology, and the fact that the Obliviating Teams cannot erase cameras, you and your partner will create a spell modifier that doesn't leave overt visual evidence. The target spell is the Emotion Modification hex used by many Aurors who have been transferred into the Muggle Police Stations to neutralize aggression in wizard criminals without drawing the attention of the non-magic community. However, the spell itself leaves effects visually and can be captured by surveillance cameras. Your assignment is to minimize what their surveillance sees by creating a working modifier to the Hex." droned Elite Instructor Binns, who was in fact,  the great-great-great grandson of Harry's former History of Magic professor at Hogwarts. A boring voice wasn't bred out of his family, it seemed. 

“Sir, are we to choose this partner?” a voice, which Harry had more than once wished he'd never have to hear again, asked. 

“Partners are randomly assigned, Mr. Malfoy. Now, if any of you aren't acquainted with the advances in surveillance equipment, you can find a list of newly created technology in the appendix of your text books, along with descriptions of their functions and what visual acuity they possess. Your assignment is due Friday, two days hence, and your partners are to be assigned by the Color Match spell. Wand tips in the air, please." Instructor Binns said, his monotone falling flat. 

Harry obediently raised his wand and uttered the spell in unison with the rest of the small class. 

“Tingo Temere.”

He looked around with vague curiosity to see who else drew the vibrant, sun-yellow ball of light from their wand as well. The first sweep of his eyes missed his match because he naturally tried his very best to act like Draco Malfoy didn't exist. The war had been over for half a decade, and after the trials he diligently kept his distance from the blonde. It was by sheer dumb luck that they both enrolled in the Elite Corps, and that they both had an interest in Magical Theory and creating new spells. Harry groaned low in his throat. Again, dumb luck. He locked eyes  with his formal rival, who also stared back. Cold. As always, cold silver eyes. Not even the sun-yellow of the Color Match spell could warm his features up. 

Malfoy's only visible reaction was a barely discernible huff through his still-pointed nose. Although the blonde was still pointy, and Harry could distinctly remember him as an albino ferret, Draco Malfoy came into his aesthetic inheritance. No trace of the Black blood showed in his appearance. A modern shaggy cut framed his slender face with bone-white locks that barely brushed against the line of his angled jaw. The eyes, while almond shaped and cold, were wider apart than Harry remembered. They were ringed with dark beige lashes quite a few shades darker than his eyebrows, and rather long. If he tried, he could look innocent and naive. Harry thought. If not for the taint of malevolence that underlied almost every encounter the brunette had with the Heir. 

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts of the musings. It wouldn't do to think too hard on his new partner. He just needed to get the assignment done and move on. He stood, and at the same time the rest of the class did in a flurry of movement and scraping chairs. He blinked a few times, startled. He was so caught up in ruminating over Malfoy's appearance that he temporarily forgot there were others about. When he looked back at Malfoy, he was gone. Harry whirled in place and found him conversing in low tones with the Instructor, who was shaking his head slowly from side to side. The other students milled about with their new partners, none as displeased as the formal rivals, before slowly filtering out in those pairs. The tail end of the conversation drifted over to Harry's ears once the noisy students left. 

“Be that as it may, Mr. Malfoy, the partnering was random. And no amount of influence will change it. I suggest you deal with this and get your work done.”

Malfoy took a deep, bracing breath and strode back to his seat where he stood, staring at the desktop like it held answers for him. He must have found some because after a full minute he spoke.

“I know you hate this. I hate it too. But we can't do this separately. I'm here to learn. Not to fight. And if fighting's all we're capable of doing, we'll both fail.” Malfoy said, voice as listless as Instructor Binns' and eyes averted. Harry thought that over for a few moments, begrudgingly impressed with the maturity the blonde was showing. Obviously he didn't want to fail. Nor did Harry, honestly.

“I think first we need to determine what effect this Hex has, and how noticeable it would be to Muggles and their cameras." Harry replied by way of answering. His voice was measured and tight, wary of the forced timidity the blonde was exhibiting. If Malfoy can force himself to behave, perhaps Harry could too. Should things get too strained, however, Harry could opt for a failing grade on the assignment anyway and walk away.

"We have two days. I'll owl you when I have some free time." Malfoy returned with a nod before sweeping passed the raven haired young adult. Harry caught a whiff of something that vaguely tugged at a memory of Hogwarts, dank Potion's Labs, and Princes. Lost in his dark thoughts, he stood next to Draco's desk in the silence unaware that at the door, Malfoy stopped to look back. Had Harry looked up at that moment he'd have seen the coldness leave and an utter regret replace it before the mask was firmly in place once more.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A day later saw a handsome grey owl tapping on the window pane of Harry's modestly furnished apartment. In its beak was clutched a parchment that even through the glass Harry could tell was of fine quality. He opened the window and was met with a flutter of wings. The owl dropped the parchment on the floor at his feet and soared  away. 

“Well, hello and goodbye.” Harry chuckled, setting aside his tea on a nearby stand and stooping to pick up the letter. He flipped it open and scanned the missive.

“Potter,
I have a few hours I can spare for the assignment. I'll be at the Leaky Cauldron at half 3 today. Upstairs, room 6."

The bottom of the parchment was adorned with large ornate letters that Harry could just barely identify as DM. 

“Pompous pinhead…” Harry muttered, but was strangely glad to receive a positive communique from someone he was dead certain would have no interest in remaining on level terms. Perhaps this assignment would turn out to be not a study in rivalry, but of self restraint. At twenty three, they were both very much adults by Wizarding and Muggle standards. School and the war wasn't that far off, and there were still hostile feelings from both sides, but there was a tentative truce between Voldemort sympathizers and those who supported The Order. As unintentional figureheads for their respective sides while attending Hogwarts, they emulated the adults and propagated the intense hate. But now, five years after the Battle of Hogwarts and the defeat of Voldemort, the two childhood frontrunners for the next generation of discord and strife were forced to work together in a setting as tame as their days as first years. They were vying for a passing grade. This wasn't a life or death struggle. This wasn't wand against wand. And as anticlimactic as this interaction with Malfoy was, Harry couldn't help but feel like it was only the start of something that could escalate beyond their control. 

“Malfoy,
I'll be there. 
HP”

Harry scribbled his reply and tapped it with his wand. It folded into a memo plane identical to the interdepartment memos Mr. Weasley pointed out to him on his first visit to the Ministry. It was a handy spell because after Hedwig, Harry never had the heart to purchase another owl. 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy.” Harry stated clearly. In order for the tracking spell to work, you had to state clearly and precisely the full name of the recipient. A strange shudder ran through Harry and it didn't dissipate for a while after. It was a long, long time since he uttered that name. 

The last time he was around Draco Malfoy, outside the Elite Corps, he was on trial. It was only Harry's honest testimony that kept Draco out of Azkaban. He didn't murder Dumbledore, he performed Unforgivables only under penalty of death from Voldemort, and he had, if you squint, saved Harry's life in the Manor. Not to mention his vain attempts to prevent Crabbe and Goyle from killing him in the Room of Requirement. Maybe Harry stepped forward out of duty to the truth, or as repayment for saving his life, but since then, he took a large step back and avoided the blonde. He wished he didn't have to stop now. But needs must and Harry wanted to do his best in the Elite Corps. What he couldn't fathom was why Malfoy even applied in the first place, and why he was accepted. He shrugged and went to shower, figuring half 3 would come soon enough.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The first knock was met with silence, the second with a still sleepy looking former Slytherin tugging the door open. Harry had a hard time keeping his eyes from bugging out. He blinked rapidly to cover his rude stare.

“I'm sorry if I woke you. But it's half 3. You said you had some time?” Harry asked politely, glad that his voice hadn't come out in a squeak. Draco rubbed his face roughly with a hand and nodded. Harry was shocked at how relaxed Draco looked, when in public he was normally impeccably dressed and aloof. Here he was clad only in a pair of sleeping pants in white with a matching tee that he was just pulling on over his bare torso, the lines of his face softer and somehow gentle. Harry wasn't sure how he noticed Draco's face when the expanse of creamy skin drew the eye away.

“Right, I did. I do. I must have fallen back asleep.” he replied quietly, voice gravelly and harsh. He caught the oogle and frowned a little. Harry cleared his throat and shuffled to the other foot.

“I can come come back later.” he offered, gesturing with one hand.

“No, you're fine. We only have two days to complete this. Come in.” Draco replied and opened the door wider.

Harry entered and glanced around for a chair, preferably the furthest away from wherever Malfoy chose to sit. He caught another whiff of the scent he smelled the day previously, but pushed it out of his mind. He didn't care to particularly recall his lessons with Slughorn, the Prince's book or the spell he cast on the Boy-Draco. Draco chose the end of the rumpled bed where he held his head in his hands and stared at the floor. 

“I think what we need to do is modify the Hex by finding the inverse of the visual effects and incorporate them into a spell sequence that neutralizes the pomp but keeps the circumstances. The only problem is...” Draco started but Harry interrupted him. 

“Why are you staying here instead of the Manor?” Harry asked, taking in the lived-in state of the room. 

Draco stopped speaking and looked up. His face was granite and voice clipped.

“The Manor, and all my holdings, were stripped from me, which I'm certain you've been aware of as that was my sentence after the trial. Let me make it clear, Potter: Do not mistake me for my father, however much I resemble him. The only thing left to me was my personal vault. I've gotten where I am in the Corps out of determination and hard work. Not by galleon bags exchanging hands or the graces of my good name." Draco ground out, bitterness creeping into his words. It was a far cry from their days at Hogwarts. Could he really have changed that much? The war had changed everyone. It wasn't a big leap to accept that it changed Malfoy too. 

“Not everyone falls over themselves for me like they do you.” Well. Perhaps not that far of a cry, Harry thought.

“In fact, I didn't know your sentence. I left before it was announced, and believe it or not, I've studiously ignored anything about you since then.” Harry flung back, hackles ever so slightly raising.

“Of course. You ignore everything beneath you. Lowly ex Death Eaters are below your notice, and not worthy of forgiveness and acceptance.” Draco said, volume rising. 

Harry stood and made for the door but was stopped by Draco's frame blocking his way. 

“Move, Malfoy. This was a mistake. A very big mistake. We can't and never will be able to work together peacefully. I'll take a fail before I'm forced to sit through yet another famous Potter-Malfoy fight.” he said in a low and angry tone, hand on his wand. 

“I may have been an arrogant prig in school, but I've come this far on merit alone. Don't think for one second I'll accept a fail after I worked so hard. Nor will I accept you treating me like I'm nothing. Like I'm below you. ”

“That's your problem, Malfoy. You still think in terms of class. I haven't and never did. I hated you back then for how you acted. And I hate you now for the same reason. Get out of my way. I'm leaving."

Draco restrained Harry's hand when he reached for the door. 

“Wait…”

Harry whipped out his wand and aimed it just below Draco's throat. 

“Don't. Touch. Me.” he spat, shaking with anger. He needed to get out of there. He knew things could get ugly and he wanted it to stop before it became too much. 

“Afraid to be tainted with Death Eater scum?" Draco asked, stepping closer until the holly pressed into his neck. Harry stood, unmoving and Draco did likewise. 

“Go ahead, Harry. Use your wand. You have before. And I have to look at the scars every day from when you did. Cast, Savior.” Draco taunted in a low voice. Harry dug the tip of his wand deeper and leaned forward. 

“I've regretted what I did to you in that bathroom. I almost killed you. But if you push me too much, I won't regret a second occurrence. Let me leave."

Draco narrowed his eyes and glared right back at the brunette. The two stood there, inches apart with a wand between them for a good minute before Harry lowered it. Would this ever end between them? Draco backed away from the door slightly but made it clear he'd try and prevent Harry from leaving again.

“Why are we even trying to get this to work? We can't even be in the same room for five minutes without almost coming to blows, let alone for two more days. Let me leave. You already tried to get out of being my partner. Obviously you think we can't do this either.”

“I did not.”

“Did not what?”

“Try to get out of having you as a partner!”

“I heard you! You were asking Binns for another partner. You knew we'd just keep fighting.”

“Yes, I asked for another partner, but not for me! I asked him to let me do this alone and to pair you up with someone else because I knew you wouldn't want to work on this assignment with me. And look, I was right! But I need this grade. If I have to work with someone, then I need a partner that won't fight me every step of the way. If I can't find that in you, I'll go solo.”

“You started it!” Harry exclaimed, and even to his ears it sounded petulant and childish. He shook his head ruefully. Draco arched a brow and smirked. Apparently the blonde hadn't lost that ability. The tension eased slightly and Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

"Let's get something clear, alright? I hate the way you acted superior all the time. I hate that you thought, because of my parentage, that I'm less than you. I hate the way you treated me and my friends. And I ignored you for five years because you hated me right on back. So let's not pretend that this is a new development. You don't want to fail, fine. Neither do I but it's looking like a preferable option to continuing on like this.” Harry said, determined to keep his voice level and polite.

“I was a product of my childhood. I was raised that way. Can you really blame me for that? I'm older now, and able to think for myself. If I hated you so damn much, for whatever reason, I'd have transferred out of Binns' class the moment I heard you were in it. But I'm not the only one who acts prejudiced. I'm a former Death Eater. To many, including you, I'm not worth the air I breathe. I'm just another flunky of the Dark Lord who got out on your good graces. You don't even know who I am, you just know who I used to be. Didn't you hear yourself refer to everything in past tense? That was then! And between us, there's so much animosity that it's hard not to fall back into old habits despite what either of us may want .” Draco replied, moving step after step away from the door until he was once more perched on the end of his bed, head hanging low and elbows braced against his knees. Harry glanced at the unblocked door then to Draco. With a mental sigh he went against his better judgement and moved to stand next to the blonde. This private conversation was surreal to him. While Draco still had a large streak of prideful arrogance, he wasn't as entirely hateful as Harry imagined he would be. Away from the rest of the judgemental world, Draco was almost tolerable.

“What either of us may want? What is it you want between us, Malfoy?”

“Certainly not this!” he answered, gesturing back and forth between them. Harry took a moment to digest that. Draco didn't want to fight with him, but it was so normal for them to be at odds that he didn't know how to end it. Maybe Harry had to take the reigns and do it for him.

“I really didn't know about your sentence. I was tired of fighting. I didn't want more of it and let's face it. That's all we're good at. We never had a good record, so don't blame me for keeping my distance.” Harry said quietly, tone kind instead of harsh.

“For someone who preaches tolerance, you sure can't practice it, can you?” Draco asked rhetorically.

“You said there's a problem with modifying the Hex... ” Harry replied stiffly when the silence became a little too heavy. The annoying git had a point. And it was just like him to point it out just after Harry resolved to change it. He thought he saw Draco loosen his shoulders up a little and a corner of his mouth quirk. He rose his head to look up at Harry with an unidentifiable expression and then Harry DID see a genuine smile, free from malice. For some strange reason it made it feel like the air in the room got thicker.

“The problem…Some effects, like the aggression neutralization, is caused by intent in the spell casting. We cannot find the reverse of intent without completely unraveling the spell. Not to mention, each person who uses it changes that portion of the spell effect by their intent… ” Draco started out slowly and as he warmed up to the subject and eventually the company, the tension melted away for the most part. Harry even started offering opinions and views, which Draco respected and on a few occasions, praised. It was four hours later that the two finally emerged from the room, both in better spirits than when they met. 

“You could be right, but we'd have to find a modifier that will work with a hex that deals with free will. Since the intent of the caster has to be stronger than the intent of the target, free will has to be taken into account. The modifier has to reflect that.” Draco was saying animatedly and Harry, surprisingly, held a bemused look on his face. He held quite a few of them since their conversation about the hex began. 

“You aren't just looks and superiority complex, are you? You have a brain as well. It's too bad you never liked Hermione. I bet you two would have set the Wizarding world on fire with the combined intellect.” Harry said, teasing. Draco stopped short just before he reached the stairs.

“She is very intelligent. I'll admit that. But she's also annoying, bossy…”

“And loyal to a fault. A great friend and she'll be a wonderful mother in a few months.” Harry admonished with a slight edge to his voice. 

“Saddled with a child and married to Weasley… who would have thought? Did you note the sarcasm?" Draco jested, glancing sidelong at Harry who remained silent. When did they both decide that joking and teasing were acceptable? He was thinking about that when Draco's voice piped up again.

"I never wanted children. If parenthood is a boon for her, great. I wouldn't put myself or anyone else through that.” Draco said with narrowed eyes after Harry failed to reply. This was a topic away from academics and Harry wasn't sure he was comfortable speaking to his rival about such things when only hours before he was ready to curse him.

“I always wanted a real family. But I have great friends who mean just as much. I suppose children might come along at some point, but not likely soon.” He eventually said, shrugging it away. He didn't plan to have children. But let the blonde think there was a chance he'd settle and raise some sprogs.

Draco stilled, perched on the top step. Harry stood next to him, one step down. Draco squinted slightly, like he was trying to puzzle out a new riddle. Harry saw that look a lot in the last four hours, and he idly wondered what new problem presented itself to the bright, albeit frustrating, young man. The silence stretched on until Harry's stomach announced his hunger.

“Well, with that, I think this study session is over. We missed dinner and I'm half starved. This was… enlightening. And surprising. Perhaps we will survive to pass this assignment after all?” Harry said, laughing softly and sticking out his hand to say goodbye. Belatedly he realized it was the wrong move. He stopped mid way and started to retract it but it was snatched gently by a surprisingly warm, smooth hand. It was a bizarre feeling, like they were first years again, given a second chance. 

"Twelve years late, but thank you for finally taking my hand." Draco quipped, a sad sort of smile flirting with his lips. He had the same thought, it seemed. Harry stared a bit too long at the smile, causing Draco to give the brunette a scrutinizing look.

“Malfoy…” Harry started, in a fabricated offhand way. Maybe it was time to take the reigns again? The most he could do was try.

“Draco.”

“What?”

“My name is Draco. Please call me Draco.”

Harry blinked, startled. Malfoy wanted him to call him by his given name? Perhaps not a declaration of friendship, but maybe it would be a step towards ending the long feud, which is why Harry was about to throw out an idea and hope it wasn't like the ones Draco had vetoed earlier. Harry slid his hand out of Draco's and took another step down. Maybe it would just take a fresh start.

“Listen…” Harry started, but the blonde interrupted him.

“I know. Never in your lifetime would you consider friendship. But just in case you change your mind…” Draco broke in, tone wry and disappointed. 

“I was going to say…” Harry tried again but once more he was interrupted.

“Don't worry about it, Scarhead." Draco interjected hastily, a small smile taking the sting from his barb. 

“Would you just shut it, ferret?” Harry exclaimed, irritated. "I was trying to ask you out!" He finished and half a moment later he smacked himself in the forehead. Draco arched a brow at the move, clearly both confused and amused with the brunette.

"To dinner. Out to eat. You must be hungry too. And I can see you're trying to be civil. I want to see how long you can keep it up." Harry clarified, his joke falling gracefully around his verbal blunder. Draco smirked down at the brunette, thinking it over before nodding his assent. Harry was unintentionally flirting and for some reason the filter on his mouth was switched off. It seemed to happen often during his time with the blonde. Harry mentally slapped himself when he noticed a dawning comprehension pass over Draco's visage.

"A meal sounds amazing. But don't try and get fresh, I never kiss on the first date.” Draco barbed, chuckling at the flush that crept up the brunette's neck and across the bridge of his nose. Bingo.

“You know that's not what I meant.” Harry grumbled as he turned and filed down the stairs. 

“Pity.” Harry distinctly heard as a half whisper behind him. He stopped abruptly on the stairs and had to clutch the railing to keep from falling when Draco walked into him. They bumped around each other in the narrow confines.

“Hey, watch it! What's the big idea?” Draco groused, bracing himself against both the wall and Harry so he wouldn't tumble down the entire staircase.

“I'm sorry! But, what you said… pity? Merlin, Malfoy, you should watch what you say.”

Draco huffed and edged passed Harry, nudging him up against the wall further with his elbow along the way. 

“Or what? You'll jinx me? C'mon, I'm hungry and I don't feel like rolling around this staircase much longer. Let's go.” Draco prodded, skillfully distracting Harry from the implications of his mutter. Their feet made little clatter as they continued on their way. Harry was slightly dazed. Was he really going to have dinner with Malfoy? It seemed awfully fast that just a few hours ago he had his wand dug into the pale throat of the young man walking next to him. Now they were talking on what could only be described as friendly terms, about to go get a bite like old chums.

“Shall we go somewhere for takeaway or would you rather have a home cooked meal?” Harry asked, pushing open the door to the street just outside the Leaky. In for a Galleon…

“Are you offering to cook?”

“Why not? I'd have to cook regardless of coming over here today or not. I'm not half bad.” Harry replied and took Draco's arm. He spun on the spot and apparated before Draco could protest. They landed in the sitting room, Harry's wards parting smoothly for their entry. 

“I'll have to warn you. Any act of aggression towards me while inside my wards will result in you being ejected immediately. And I heard it's quite painful.” Harry said, heading towards the kitchen down the hall. 

“That's a handy spell. Thanks for the warning. Where did you learn it?” Draco asked, interested as he trailed after Harry slowly. He was disoriented from the jump and how quickly Harry made the decision to bring him into his home. He thought that maybe he could handle impulsive behavior if it led to an enjoyable time. The jury was still out on whether this would be one of them.

“It's one of my own. I had a… visitor that turned a bit touched when I refused his advances after having a few drinks. I figured it was not only safer, but prudent.” Harry explained. He didn't think Draco needed to hear any details of that encounter. It still bothered him somewhat to have anyone over after that escapade and the fact that his long time hated rival was standing in his home did nothing to dispel the uncomfortable feeling. But he had offered and couldn't exactly refuse. Plus, he had the wards now. Draco, one for detail, noticed the gender of Harry's prior visitor. He determined a fishing expedition was in order. 

“I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good.” Draco teased lightly, a small smile turning up the corners of his lips. It was common knowledge about the Marauder's Map these days since Harry gave a full account of his sixth and missed seventh years in a two part interview. Harry blinked a few times, catching himself staring at the smile again, and then chuckled. The stare wasn't lost on the blonde.

“I suppose while I was steadfastly staying away from you, you were keeping tabs on me. What, did you clip and save every article in The Prophet?” Harry asked, laughing. Two bright pink spots tinged Draco's cheeks.

“Of course not! I was mentioned in that article quite often, you know. I was merely making sure that the account you gave was correct in detail. You seemed awfully obsessed with stalking me in sixth year.” Draco shot back, sitting at the table while Harry bustled around the kitchen. The pots banging and clattering stopped and Harry's voice softly filtered through the suddenly quiet room.

“I knew you WERE up to no good, on orders from Voldemort. I was trying to catch you before you did something stupid and dangerous. We were children, Malfoy. We had no business being in that war. If it weren't for the circumstances…”

“I've asked you to call me Draco.”

“I may have been obsessed but I had reason. Didn't I?” Harry asked, turning around to face Draco, a frown marring his face. He ignored the repeated request. Draco had the decency to look ashamed, his mask falling away partly.

“You had ample reason concerning the task given to me. But were there any other reasons besides suspecting my involvement with the Death Eaters?” he asked, eyes slightly narrowed with a pointed look. Perhaps the hook needed to be better baited.

It was Harry's turn to flush pink. He shrugged and turned back around to start a kettle on for tea.

“I don't know. There was a lot I didn't know back then. I'm a bit wiser now. I suppose we both are.” he replied slowly, keeping his hands busy so the awkwardness was kept to a minimum. He had an inkling of what the blonde was prodding for and he refused to give him any help on the subject. It was far too personal. 

“I think that the hex needs to be tested no later than tomorrow night so we'd know what modifier to use. It might take us a while to come up with a viable option.” Harry said, pointedly changing the subject. Draco chuckled and nodded. 

“We can test it after dinner. Which I hope is almost ready. I'm famished.”

“Then you won't have long to wait. I had what I wanted for dinner tonight already prepped before I left. I just wasn't expecting company. It will only take a moment to fry up these breaded chicken fritters and heat the rolls.” Harry said and set about doing just that. 

Dinner was quiet, neither one up for more than just small-talk while they ate. Two very full young men pushed their plates away and sighed simultaneously. They caught each other's eye and chuckled.  

“Well, that was rather good, if a bit heavier than I'm used to eating.” Draco complimented when Harry rose and retrieved his plate to be washed up. Draco mirrored his actions and they stood side by side in front of the sink. The silence wasn't thick or uncomfortable like it was back at The Leaky, and in due course the dishes were cleaned and put away. 

“You don't use magic as much as you could. Is it because you were raised by Muggles?” the blonde asked, using his wand to dry his hands.

“Partly. I'm used to doing this by hand, not by wand. I had to do all the household chores by myself. I didn't know about magic growing up until I got my letter.” he answered, looking anywhere but Draco. He could see from the corner of his eye that Draco was studying his profile; the blonde made no disparaging comments. He did, however, use his wand to dry Harry's hands as well, giving him a slow smile. Harry cleared his throat and glanced away before swallowing. Why was his mouth dry when Draco spelled only his hands?

“Well, let's go cast that hex and get down to working out the modifier.” Harry said thickly, leading the way to his small but well stocked library, courtesy of Hermione. 

“One of us will have to cast it on the other. But I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Does the target have to be riled up and aggressive? And will your wards recognize that hex as aggression?” 

“I don't think aggression is our weak point. We should avoid riling each other up. Shouldn't be too easy, hmm?” Harry replied with a cheeky wink. Draco looked away and flushed a soft petal pink. Harry was momentarily mortified at himself and turned away towards the table to hide his glowing face. What the hell was wrong with him? He should have his foot magically inserted into his mouth permanently. Maybe they'd name the Spell Damage ward after him? There was a soft murmur behind him and Harry felt the tickle of magic flow through him. When he turned to find the cause, he saw Draco with his wand drawn on him and a cord of magic extending from the tip to his midriff. The link of magic glinted like the sheen of chrome, and Harry could see how it would attract notice.

“What… what did you do?”

“I cast the Emotion Modification hex with intent to alter your emotional state from agitated, just to see if it would work. I didn't think it would be very hard of a change with intent… I could tell you were somewhat off kilter and distracted." Draco answered, proud of his sudden inspiration regarding the hex and how to test it.

Harry WAS feeling more relaxed as a result, and turned to thank Draco with a beaming smile. Draco's wand hand trembled a bit, nearly dropping the Hawthorn. Harry's unrestrained smile aimed at him struck like a stone of flour. Draco didn't think that he'd ever been the recipient of such a glowing grin from the man, much less the boy. Perhaps if he had in school…Draco's intent switched immediately and Harry felt a warmth radiate through him. Was this part of the spell? Harry knew that Draco's intent had to be greater than his for the spell to work, but what was the intent? He jerked his eyes up to meet his. 

“What…?” he asked and stopped. Draco was staring at him in a manner that was reminiscent of how Harry was staring at his smile earlier, and it increased the warmth flowing through him. He had no idea that the hex could do this; he thought it was just to neutralize aggression. Draco was right. When the intent varies, the effect varies. The sheen from the magical link shimmered and flashed, throwing alluring patches of light across the table, walls and floor. It was eerily close to Unforgivable level spell-work because it was altering his free will to act on his emotions. Draco slowly came towards Harry, who in turn stayed where he was. 

“This is an incredible hex. Who knew that it could be used for non-aggressive emotion alteration? How do you feel, Harry?” Draco asked quietly, coming to stand quite close to the brunette. Harry allowed his eyes to droop, a gentle, relaxed smile on his lips. The scent of the blonde infiltrated his senses.

“I feel relaxed, warm and… " he stopped and the smile melted away. He remembered where he smelled that before. It was the day they learned about Amortentia. "Malfoy, you should lift the spell…”

“Why? And I've asked you repeatedly to call me Draco.” he replied quietly, watching the effect of the spell work.

“Please, lift the spell.” Harry asked again, eyes opening wider. He took a step back and bumped into the table edge. A myriad of intense and shocking desires raced through him and he couldn't tell which were his and which were not. Was this some sort of emotional attack? Why weren't the wards ejecting him? As if Draco could read his thoughts, he shook his head. 

“Your wards would have to recognize the intent behind a spell in order to determine hostility. My intent isn't harm. The opposite, in fact. Your wards won't eject me.” the blonde said softly, leaning closer to Harry. Harry knew what was going to happen but his emotions were compromised, held in thrall by Draco's whim. This was a dangerous hex, no mistake about it. As much as his mind screamed no! his desire, which was tied into the Emotion part of his brain, refused to refuse. Or perhaps it was Draco's desire. Harry couldn't tell anymore. 

“Draco, please. Lift…” he heard himself saying before a gentle hand rested along side his cheek while warm lips meshed against his. Draco slowly pulled away when there was no returned kiss and Harry stared at him mutely. Draco blinked and took a step back. Perhaps he misjudged…

“I… I'm…” he stuttered but he never got to finish his excuse. Harry reached out and grabbed the collar of the button up Draco was wearing and jerked him closer. 

“Never, ever do that again without asking first. I might have said yes on my own.” Harry ground out before tugging him flush against him, melding their lips together once more. He nipped at Draco's plump bottom lip and was rewarded with a gasp. Harry discarded his remaining inhibitions and claimed the warm cavern for himself. He felt Draco sag against him and the magic sputtered out. Neither noticed because at that moment Draco seemingly decided that playing passive wasn't what he wanted. He pulled away and pushed Harry up onto the table, thoughts of spells and rivalries fleeing both of their minds. 

“What… what are we doing, Malfoy?” Harry panted, bracing himself by his elbows and looking up at the blonde. 

“It seems pretty obvious, Harry.” Draco purred, stressing his name. Harry was floored at the seductive quality of his tone. A sharp shiver ran the length of his spine as he watched the blonde crawl up over him until he covered his slightly smaller frame in a straddling position.

“Draco…” Harry half moaned and half whispered before he met Malfoy's lips halfway. A part of his rational mind told him that intent of the spell was an integral part of casting successfully. Draco intended to free Harry of his confusion. He must have picked up on the reason of his confused state. There was always a magnetism between the two, if the recent unintentional flirting was any hint, but it always reared its head previously in the form of animosity. Now that it was suppressed, this was the result. 

Harry reached up and slid his fingertips under the trailing hem of Draco's shirt and  touched his bare skin for the first time. He felt hot against his palms and wondered how he ever thought Draco was cold. A warm tongue delved deep and imperious, sliding sinfully against Harry's with a profane gesture that set his senses tingling. He gripped Draco's hips and pulled him roughly down onto his lap, grinding up into him. Draco gasped again and pulled away from his mouth.

“Well now… there's definitely something worth investigating in there.” he murmured, sitting up in Harry's lap. When Draco reached for the fly on Harry's pants, Harry stopped him. 

“Not yet… you first.” he groaned softly, letting go of Draco's hand and reaching for the button on Draco's slacks. Harry partially sat up on one elbow, fingers trailing the zipper down slowly. Feverish eyes met and held once Draco was freed.  Harry closed his hand around Draco's turgid length and the young man atop him shivered in delight. 

“I thought you said you didn't kiss on the first date?” Harry whispered, pulling along the shaft with smooth, firm strokes. Draco couldn't answer with anything other than a breathy moan and a slow arcing of his back. He didn't know when this desire for the pompous Slytherin started, but he couldn't find it in himself to complain...not with the spectacle he was graced with. Draco, notorious for his coldness, was coming undone simply from Harry touching him, and the power was intoxicating. However, Harry had something else in mind to bring the blonde to mindless bliss. He dropped his hand away and pushed at Draco, who grumbled at the halt in activities.

“Stand there, at the end of the table.” Harry ordered, laying back down with his head off the edge of the table. Draco groaned softly, understanding what the brunette was attempting to do. He maneuvered to help accommodate the unusual position. Harry slid his hands around Draco's waist and drew him closer, mouth opening to admit the hardness that was leaking need. Draco leaned over and braced himself on the table, his knees going weak while watching inch after inch disappear into the saviors wet mouth. All at once the weight of what he pushed Harry's emotions to do came crashing down on him.

“I'm sorry, Harry… I shouldn't have intended this… but for the love of Merlin, don't stop!” Draco pleaded. The part of Harry's brain that was still somewhat logical understood that he had been violated by Draco in a small way with that hex, but in a large way he was freed. He had kept celibate since that night with his visitor, unable to get physically or emotionally close to anyone after. Having his emotions altered had facilitated the situation he was currently in, and the longer the spell lasted, the less he felt that this was a mistake. What they didn't know was the spell had long since ended but neither one noticed. He continued sliding Draco in and out of his throat, feeling a shiver run down his back from the delicious sounds he was making Draco emit as a result of each time the firm head made contact with the back of his esophagus or his tongue performed an especially enjoyable twist.

“Bloody hell, Harry… you're going to make me...” Draco panted, straining to not pump his hips and choke the brunette. Harry gripped Draco and pulled him roughly towards him, completely hilting to his root, then swallowed. 

“Harry!” Draco cried, emptying himself down Harry's throat in great pulsating waves, the constriction around him too much to handle. His vision blurred, white around the edges and his head swam. He sagged to his knees once Harry released him. Harry slowly flipped over to his stomach and gazed down to Draco. 

“I think I may have to reevaluate our chances of being able to work together.” Harry murmured, eyes lazy and shining with inner contentment. The fact that he didn't get his didn't diminish his satisfaction. Wanking later would solve that. Hell, this spur of the moment one-off was enough material to wank over for the next six months.

“Do you want me to release the spell now?” Draco asked weakly, yawning. Harry twisted around, looking for the cord of magic and found none.

“Uh, well…”

Draco raised his head and scrutinized Harry with growing incredulity. There was no link of magic connecting Harry to Draco's Hawthorn! Nor was there the same warmth flowing between them. There was still a warm, pleasant sensation but it felt more genuine and sincere instead of manufactured by spell induced intent.

“The hex… it isn't active! That… that was all you. All us.” Draco sputtered, eyes wide and disbelieving. The silence held a note of surprise and shock before Harry broke in:

“All us.” Harry echoed, smiling gently over to his once-rival. Draco sat up on his knees and eyed Harry seductively. 

“Your turn, scarhead.” Draco declared, toothy grin evident before he tugged Harry into another searing kiss.

-*-finite-*-