Work Text:
‘For today's weather, the wind is calm. It will be sunny throughout the day. There is a chance of a little reunion happening. The person you don’t expect to see will walk through your door. It’s your choice to decide to close the door or open it once more.’
Luna’s message is cryptic. She is always cryptic, that’s for sure. But today’s message seems specific in a vague way (how can that be?) Normally it would be something like: your lucky person is the man who wears green, or something similar to that.
He loves it though, and it sells well both for muggles and in the wizarding world. It’s Luna’s own business, sending daily cryptic texts to subscribers. He once saw a muggle who has religiously studied her texts like verses in the bible.
If Luna said, he’s going to have a reunion today then so be it. Let’s hope it is not someone who wants to kill him. The weather is too good for a sparring today.
Draco Malfoy put his phone back in his pocket and locks his flat’s door before checking the time on his mobile phone. The young wizard smiles to himself. He has more spare time before work than usual.
He put his keys in his the other side of his pants’ pocket. The sound of the keys jingling echoes through the hallway. He looked up to nod at one of his old neighbour who is also going out of their resident. Draco smiles back when the other sends a smile his way like he always does.
He hums to himself while walking down the street. Maybe today is a great day to order coffee from the shop across the street. He deserves it. He has time to indulge himself in muggles’ fancy drinks (and he will!).
Draco orders a hot latte and a plain bagel. He smiles to the barista with a familiar face. Draco sees this bloke a lot when he becomes this shop’s regular (His first time here was a bit embarrassing because he cannot pronounce macchiato. What a dumb word.) The barista smiles flirtatiously, but Draco pretends like he doesn’t see it. He takes an effort to make small talk and puts the tips in a jar then goes out with his drinks and heavenly-smelled bagel in hands.
He unlocks the door when he reaches his office the muggle way, opening it and waves his hand, sending his scarf flying to the coat rack next to the door. The Closed sign hanging on the door flips itself and now showing Open instead. He turns on the light and the wireless before throwing his body on his chair. The smell of hot coffee and the gently sound of muggle’s music makes him feel lively for a second but then his mood shifts when Draco notices a letter on his desk, his brows furrowed at the pretentious, ugly wax seal and the department behind the symbol of the seal.
Comparing to the first time he received a letter from Hogwarts, this is like a 180 change. It is a letter from Gawain bloody Robards.
Dear Potion Master Draco Malfoy,’ written the letter, and Draco has to look up from the letter to sneer with himself for dramatic purpose.
And then he continues:
The Department of the Auror of the Ministry of Magic urgently needs your expertise on an important case since we believe your skills and knowledge will assist our works tremendously. We will send one of our officers to your office tomorrow. He will tell you all about the case.
We hope you will regard us in the same way that the Ministry has been regarding and assisting the Malfoy family. I believe it is quite a crucial time for us to support each other for the best of the wizarding world in this time and age.
Warm Regards,
Gawain Robards
Head Auror’
“Warm regards my arse.” Draco quickly looks through the content of the letter then throws the paper to the fire without care. He picks his coffee up and drinks, his mood now soiled. Since the letter was sent to him yesterday (Draco guesses it must be right after him getting out of his office. Robards is sly like that. That prat might have sent it knowing Draco wouldn’t be able to reject it in time.
Then that means ‘one of the officers’ is going to turn up here sooner or later. Draco takes a deep breath, not sure if he can school his expression well when seeing the people from the ministry. Those bastards always sneer at him because of the former Death Eater thing. Of course, Draco sneers back, but it doesn’t mean—
A sound of someone opening the door interrupts his thoughts. Draco lowers the volume of the music then looks at the visitor.
“Welcome—” Draco says to his potential customer but his voice cracks at the end. His gazes fixed on the person who just enters who looks as surprised as Draco (or maybe more).
It’s Potter.
‘The person you don’t expect to see will walk through your door.’ Luna’s message rings in his head. He stares openly at the figure standing at his door.
It’s Potter.
Of course, it’s Harry Potter. Why not?
“Malfoy, you’re wearing a beanie.” Potter blurts out with wide eyes. Draco raises his eyebrows, touching his beanie consciously then he looks at himself from head to toe: Graphic shirt with top buttons undone, muggle jeans and Doc Marten boots. Pansy called it ‘A typical, Hipster Muggle Look.’
Seven years since the war and this is what this blunt prat decided to say to his old classmate? Draco decides to also look at Potter thoroughly. Potter is not the only one who has eyes. He looks at The Gryffindor’s dirty boots, his old jeans that have more tears than to be a fashion statement, his dark blue t-shirt and a dark jacket in his hands… The outfit screams Potter the War Hero that he’s seen before on papers (except his body that well… fitter, more muscle on his body than when he was a gangly kid — but this is not what he should scrutinise at the moment, isn’t it?)
“Yes, I’m aware, Potter. Since it is on my head and all. Your point?”
“I thought the potion master has to be like—”
“Like what? Snape? Slughorn? Potter, need I remind you that this is 2019? Do you think that a potion master has to wear a robe, putting a cauldron in the centre of their workplace and still use owls to contact each other? Please, only people at the ministry do that. Tell them to email me next time.”
“But the ministry recommended you. I thought it would be an old bloke wearing a robe, acting like a ministry agent or something.” Potter explains, “Your manner is still kinda the same, though.”
“I’d bite my own tongue before I behave like those old bastards.”
“I think the current you is quite nice. I, er, I mean, I prefer you than those wizards and witches.”
Potter stammers and Draco tries not to overthink what the other said.
He tries to channel the old Draco Malfoy from his school years, chin up and all, “Actually I thought the ministry wouldn’t really want to ask me,” He twists his lips, directing a cocky smile at Potter, “But I guess they have no choice. I am an exceptional potion master, and they can’t get rid of my pretty face even if they want to.”
Potter has a small smile at the corner of his lips “I guess that’s true.”
Draco doesn’t know which part that Potter agreed with him. Potter is playing with the hem of his shirt awkwardly and just stands at the door. Draco coughs, waving the auror to his desk.
“Nice to reacquaint, Potter.” Draco looks directly into the green eyes. The ones that he’s never thought he would be able to have a chance to stare at again. “Put your jacket on the rack and come sit here.” He points to the chair at the other side of his desk before getting up and brewing tea for his old rival.
* * *
‘It’s your choice to decide to close the door or open it once more.’
Draco’s mind dwells on Luna’s words. What does that even mean? If her random prediction is accurate, then it means Draco needs to do something about…this? What is this anyway? And has he ever open the door to Potter, to begin with?
“You don’t look surprised to see me,” Potter says while he lightly puts the teacup on Draco’s desk.
“And what face do you want to see? I’ve lived around muggles for seven years, Potter. I guess I am great at feigning nonchalant to surprising shits now.” Draco thinks of all the weird muggle stuff he has encountered over the years.
“…”
“So are we going to talk about the ‘important case’ that Robards mentioned in the letter now?” Draco raises his eyebrow. Potter nods, swallowing before he grabs something from his pants pocket.
“We found this in the belongings of a squib in a muggle part of London. We have to work together with the muggle police. They think it was some kind of drug, but we also think it also has some kind of magic properties.” He puts the tiny bottle on Draco’s desk.
“Is there anybody at the ministry—”
“It seems like some chemical that the muggle seems to know of a lot. I heard you—"
“Doing research on muggle drugs and potion-making. Yes, I was. Did they drink this or inject themselves with it?” Draco opens the bottle and lightly smells the transparent liquid inside. They are not that different from the bottle of pure water.
“They drank it. The symptom is a daydreaming-like behaviour, but we also have one frozen wizard who looks like he was cast with the Full Body-Bind Curse. We still have not found a permanent cure for these symptoms.”
Draco nods, opening his top drawer and grabs the notepad. He jots down something quickly as if he’s afraid of forgetting it.
“I am well-acquainted with a muggle who’s in law enforcement. I could find some more details without unnecessary paperwork. Oh, but if you have any important details like the locations, other noticeable symptoms, forward it to me directly via email.” Draco grabs his phone and sends a text to said muggle before he forgets. He doesn’t want to contact this bloke without unnecessary because no matter how useful it is, this muggle is quite clingy, but he also wants to get rid of Potter as soon as possible.
He looks up to find Potter staring at his fingers. Draco stops, tilting his head as if asking a silent question when Potter notices him stopping.
“Uh, I, just, I’m not used to you using muggle stuff.” Potter coughs, blushing. “You even used emoji.” Potter nods towards Draco’s fingers, and with a small voice, he adds, “Is that an eggplant emoji? You used eggplant emoji? To that muggle?”
“Those were old texts.” Draco doesn’t know why he needs to quickly explain that to Potter (Lie. He actually knows why.) He puts down his phone and continues, “I might be able to find a cure. Maybe in two or three days. Do you want me sending the report or just—”
“I can come here for that.” Potter interrupts.
“Good. Because I hate having to getting in touch with the wizardry world.” Draco smiles darkly.
Potter slowly nods before looking around the office, looking for another topic to talk about.
“Nice office.”
“Thanks. I didn’t want the old-fashioned potion master vibe, so I tried to match it with the surrounding.” Draco nods towards the scenery outside the window.
“How is it here? I want to come here a few times but haven’t had a chance.”
“It’s alright. If you want some hipster muggle stuff, you’d like it here. You already have the look for it, I guess.” Draco raises his eyebrow at the auror.
Potter laughs, saying “Luna will absolutely love this place. I also notice a shop selling plants here. I’ll have to tell Neville about it.”
Draco smiles. “I contact Longbottom from time to time. I remembered he did research on some magical plants. He’s doing business now or…?”
“Yes, still about plants though.” Potter smiles. “I’m living in the same flat with him, and his plants.”
“You’re living with Longbottom? In Fulham? I thought you live in House Black’s house or with Weasley—”
“That was six years ago.” Potter interrupts.
Draco thought he became immune to surprising shits now that he’s getting older, but it seems like he still reacts the same way when it is concerning Potter. He raises one of his eyebrows, slowly taking a peek at Potter’s left hand—the part where he tries so hard not to stare since Potter has stepped inside.
However, there is no object that he’s scared to see. No ring. No wedding ring.
He thought Potter would have a happy ending after the war. Having a bunch of kids and living in a big house.
But it’s not like that. Potter’s eyes look sad. They seem like he saw something, even after the war. Something is hidden behind his green’s eyes that Draco doesn’t know what it is.
“So you’re single right now?”
“Yeah, I thought everyone knows that. The Daily Prophet and other editorials always write about my relationships like their lives depend on it. Witches Weekly also does that, putting me in a bachelor list every month or two.”
“Congrats on getting to be on the list, Scarhead. Unfortunately, I don’t get to see your mug on the papers since I don’t read wizard papers anymore because they are shit. Well, except the Quibbler. Luna is great at her job.”
“True.” Potter smiles lightly, “Do you subscribe to her daily prediction? I got an interesting text today.”
“I do, and yes, it was quite interesting.”
“Do we get the same text? How many people does she send it to? Is it randomised or something?”
“I don’t know. What’s yours say?”
“It says ‘don’t hesitate to go through the door.’ I don’t know what that means.”
“‘It’s your choice to close or open the door.’ is what I got.”
Potter raises his eyebrows. He swallows slowly and says, “And you, are you seeing anyone?” Potter asks, and Merlin, Draco hopes that it is a real hope glinting in Potter’s green eyes and it’s not just Draco’s hopeless desire projecting his old feeling from his unrequited crush during Hogwarts years. (Yes, at least Draco is brave to admit that now. Plus, He’s good at Occlumency. Even if Potter’s learned Legilimency, he still wouldn’t get a glimpse. Draco is that good.)
“No…” Draco answers slowly, processing his thought.
“What about that Eggplant Emoji muggle?”
“Merlin’s sake, Potter. That was a text from months ago.” Draco rolls his eyes.
“Good.” Potter nods. “Good.”
“What were we talking about before? Right, work. Case. Potion.” Draco gets gloomy a little when his mind returns to this annoying task (but it actually got less annoying the moment he realised who he gets to work with.)
“Right. I may need more pieces of evidence for the case, and if I find something new—”
“Like I said, email me or text me.”
“Do I need to include emoji in my message?” Potter grins jokingly.
“If you want,” Draco answers with a challenging smile. Potter’s dark skin flushed a little. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, but then he closes it again.
“Well, if it’s not urgent then you can tell me when you come to get a better cure for the victims in three days.”
“Alright. Cheers.”
“We can do it over lunch. So I can introduce you to the street here. I’m sure you’ll like Dalston.”
“Fantastic. I’ve never refused when it comes to food.” Potter grins. “That settles it then. See you in three days. Cheers.”
“I’ll text you the restaurant’s name.”
“Brilliant. See you.”
Potter stands up from the chair. He walks to his coat hanging by the door and puts it on. The sound of the doorbell chiming rings around the office when the auror opens the door.
Apart from that messy dark hair, Draco notices Potter still has awkward habits he did in Hogwarts, like the way he walks, or the expression he made when he’s embarrassed.
Before the door closes, Draco shouts at the top of his lungs, “It’s a date, Potter!”
Potter splutters, face blushing. However, the auror nods enthusiastically, agreeing. He waves awkwardly like he doesn’t know what to do with his hand then quickly leaves.
Draco Malfoy smirks. He stands up and looks at the back of the auror who’s vanishing in thin air a second later.
‘It’s your choice to decide to close the door or open it once more.’
Draco made his choice. It’s depended on Potter now whether he will enter Draco’s open door or not.
Draco hopes he will.
Spoiler Alert: Yes, Harry will definitely enter the door. No hesitation.
And it doesn’t have anything to do with Luna’s prediction.