Harry’s smile widened slightly, humoured at the implication that Malfoy was simply brewing home remedies; there was a moment where Harry considered reminding Malfoy of the deep illegality of what he was doing, regardless of how he wanted to frame it.
“Uh huh,” Harry simply replied, just short of mocking.
He took the last drag of his cigarette, before smothering the bud in the ashtray.
“Are you worried your luck would turn? Comparatively,” Harry asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest and leaning back against the edge of the counter. He looked at Malfoy with great interest, a smile barely there on his lips, for the first time addressing another unsaid part of Malfoy’s use. “That maybe I wouldn’t be here, then.”

There was something endlessly infuriating about how well Potter seemed to know him, almost always able to pinpoint something that Draco was genuinely sore about, even if he felt certain that he had never actually mentioned it to him.
It was a level of intimacy that constantly took Draco aback, having not realised what it would mean to have someone who knew him in the way that Potter did.
He wasn’t sure how much he liked it.
“Are you convinced that I wanted you so badly that the potion did that for me?” Draco countered, not wanting to humour that question with a proper answer.

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The smile finally gained a proper foothold on Harry’s expression, an answer in itself. Harry wasn’t here against his will, he knew that Malfoy could tell, but to Harry, it was equally obvious that he wasn’t the only one wanting him here.
“I’m just speculating,” he said, despite having already made his mind up.
The effect of Malfoy’s felix felicis was just short of oppressive, guided by whatever Malfoy constituted as lucky in a way Harry wasn’t sure Malfoy had experienced. Harry couldn’t say he was surprised that Malfoy wanted to keep that upper hand, but stripping everything back between them, Harry was also surprised to find that Malfoy didn’t seem curious to find out what it felt like, being on the other side of it.
“Is that not what this is?”

Draco genuinely had no idea what this was and the fact that Potter seemed to at least have some idea of it left him puzzled. On the other hand, it just seemed on par for them and their dynamic to just fumble about and only really finding their anchors in each other.
“I don’t know what this is,” Draco stated with a naked honesty he usually would keep under wraps, but there was something in the unannounced visit that made Draco open up slightly more.
“Is that what this is?”

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There was a long beat where Harry just stared at Malfoy, an almost incredulous smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. In the effort of saying nothing, of staying noncommittal, it felt like they were accidentally admitting to so much.
Harrywas pretty aware of what parts of this dynamic with Malfoy he found appealing, everything compressed into the transparent awareness that they both wanted this to the point where it almost felt deserving. Malfoy was, however, a fool not to think that his use of potions skewed something between them, and his reluctance to let Harry try it felt like it spoke volumes beyond it simply being illegal.
For a long moment, that knowledge thrummed beneath Harry’s skin, before escaping him as a huffed laugh, a mean little sound though his attention remained on Malfoy with great interest. The tension broken, Harry found it easier to push himself away from the counter, stepping closer.
“You’ve really dug yourself into such a hole,” Harry observed with a grin, a little disjointed from everything else as he reached for Malfoy, pulling him closer by the back of his neck until he was close enough that Harry could kiss him again.

There as absolutely no denying that Potter was right in his assessment, Draco being deeply aware of just how screwed he was going to be if Potter decided to turn on him.
However, it was extremely difficult to care when Potter reached for him again, allowing himself to be pulled down and return the kiss. His hands found Potter’s sides, running fully on autopilot as he pushed him against the counter.

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Harry had been substituting at the Auror Academy over the course of the past decade, though it was unusual for him to be contacted to teach anything other than the duelling courses. When he had been asked to chaperone the class to their interdisciplinary course regarding safe handling of potions and vials in the field, he had almost declined out of sheer habit; hearing it was taught at St. Mungo’s had made him reconsider. He figured it was as good as any other reason to swing past Malfoy’s office for a visit.
Leisurely leaning against the wall a few feet away from the door in the laboratory, Harry was pleased to find he needed no such detour. Head Potioneer Malfoy had appeared entirely on his own accord, welcoming the Trainee Potioneers and Aurors alike, addressing the importance of carrying out the course with both disciplines present. Harry barely registered what Malfoy was saying, instead appreciating the drape of his uniform and the way the navy blue complimented his pale complexion, after not seeing him for weeks.
It took Malfoy finishing his introduction and the students to relax into chatter for Harry’s eyes to narrow back to the present, focusing on Malfoy’s face as he approached. Instinctively straightening his posture, Harry pushed himself away from the wall, a thoughtless invitation.

While it was traditional for the Head Potioneer to introduce the class to their teachers and to make a speech about the importance of the course. It was yet another formality regarding the job that Draco found tedious and he often found a way out of it. However, this time Draco had felt something tugging at him to actually live up to his duty, so he had begrudgingly agreed to go.
He realised why the second he saw Potter entering with the new aurors, who all took their places among the new healers, while potter took his place against the wall. Once again, Draco was reminded of how infuriatingly good Potter looked in this stupid uniform of his.
Still, Draco managed to make his speech and remain professional throughout, barely casting a glance in Potter’s direction until he was entirely finished.
When he allowed the teachers to take the stand, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to approach Potter, only in part because he as right by the door, but it did provide him with plausible deniability.
“Auror,” he stated with a polite nod, aware of just how many eyes were on them.

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It was hard for Harry to find it in himself to be surprised whenever he ran into Malfoy anymore, welcoming his presence with a pleased smile instead.
Harry had a growing sense that the effects of Malfoy’s felix felicis were almost becoming brazen as things between them evolved, the coincidences far less subtle than what they had been in the very beginning. Although, he realised as Malfoy’s greeting rolled down his spine with a thrill, he was perhaps more attuned to them, more eager to make use of them.
“Head Potioneer,” Harry returned placidly, before a grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for having us.”

“Of course,” Draco stated as he moved to stand next to Potter by the wall, not wanting to take up too much attention from the presentation, but he knew that just he and Potter standing next to each other was probably going to garner enough attention as was.
“It’s such an important topic after all,” he added, his eyes on the presenters but all of his attention was on Potter. He knew that he should probably make a little bit more of an effort in hiding his attachment to Potter, but he also couldn’t exactly be bothered to do so.
“Glad to see you chaperoning the youth.”

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