Chapter 8

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-Five Months Later-

"Well, I think that is all the questions I have for you, Mr. Malfoy," the witch said as she stood up, holding out her hand.

Draco stood and shook it. "Thank you for the interview, Ms. Redd. I hope to get an owl from you soon."

Stepping out of the office, Draco smiled at the wizard at the reception desk and walked out of the building as quickly as he could. It was hard to control the anger bubbling up beneath his polite facade.

Pulling at his wand, he apparated to the Ministry of Magic. Pretty soon, he was getting off the elevator for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He marched in, and glared down at first wizard he saw. "Get me Auror Potter. Now!" The young man jumped, and then scrambled into the offices.

Standing in the department's lobby, he glared at anyone who came by, making most of them scuttle out of sight.

After at least ten minutes, Harry Potter finally strolled out, his scarlet uniform robes marked with mud and some burn marks. "Oh, it's you. This is a nice surprise, Draco."

"Shove it, Potter. Do you want me to yell at you here, or should we go somewhere more private?" Draco hissed, looming over Harry.

Harry's welcoming smile dimmed, and he quickly glanced around. He looked as guilty as four year sitting beside an empty cookie jar. Covered in cookie crumbs. "Um, is Grimmald Place OK?"

Draco gave a curt nod and linked his arm over Harry's. Within a few seconds, they were standing in a shabby living room.

Harry unbuckled his uniform, slipping off the thick red robe and hanging it on a hook on the wall. The snug black long sleeve t-shirt and slim fit trousers he had worn beneath were a bit dusty. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I'm going to make some coffee. Want one?"

"No! I don't want fucking coffee!" Draco snapped.

Trying not to smirk, Harry gave him a half smile. "OK, OK. How about tea?"

Draco's skin flushed even more with anger, and he glared at Harry.

With a sigh, Harry moved over to the sofa and sat down. "I guess we can have some later. Something on your mind, Malfoy?"

With a slight growl, Draco started pacing back and forth over the worn carpet in front of Harry. "I just came from an interview."

"Oh?" Harry said, tipping his face up with a pleasant smile. "How did it go?"

"Good," Draco said, stopping right in front of Harry to glare down at him. "Far too good. Suspiciously good."

"How can an interview be suspiciously good?" Harry asked mildly.

Draco let out a huff of frustration and started pacing again. "She just seemed amazed at everything I did, took lots of notes, and smiled at me. A lot."

"Maybe she found you attractive," Harry said, the half smile threatening to come back.

That comment got him another glare. "People don't treat me like that, Potter."

"I'm sure many people find you attractive," Harry quipped.

"Not that!" Draco snapped. He waved his hands around, clearly still incensed. "They don't treat me nicely."

Harry shrugged. "How do they treat you?"

"Like an ex-Deatheater! A traitor!"

"Well, that's hardly fair. You were exonerated at the trial, just like your mother," Harry said calmly.

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