Ghosts of What We Used to Want (A Drarry Fic)

Part 1

Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised that seeing Potter again would still fill him with incandescent rage. It was almost disappointing. Draco had put so much work into deprogramming himself from the cult of pureblood supremacy that he had toted when he was younger. Maybe he had thought that having positive feelings towards the Muggle-born's hero would prove that Draco had finally moved on from all that rot.

There was part of him that argued that it proved something if Draco still held such strong feelings despite all his growth. That maybe there was something his younger self had gotten right about Harry Potter after all. He tried very hard to shut that part up. It wasn't the sort of thing he allowed himself to think as a reformed Death Eater and all.

Still, that left him with the dilemma of what to do when greeting his former teenage arch-nemesis. Because there was no way of getting around it. Potter was gradually making his way through talking to all of the Liaisons in Draco's department.

As Potter came nearer, Draco could feel all his old defense mechanisms kick in. There was just something about Potter that made a Draco's hackles rise. Like there was a feral dog tugging at the leash held by his veneer of civility. He wasn't sure what he would do if Potter actually wanted to have a polite conversation with Draco. Draco didn't think he would be able to hold that sort of front up for more than a minute or two.

So it was something of a relief that when Potter turned to greet him, Potter's face immediately lost it's friendly mask. Potter's face flashed from shock to anger to confusion and back to anger.

There was something about Potter angry and off-balance that appeased that feral dog somewhat. "What an honor," - Draco said, sarcasm dripping - "to meet Mister Potter himself. Your contributions to ensuring that our department was created, that I was able to work for it, is everything I could have hoped for from my life."

Potter's face had become carefully blank during Draco's speech. However, when Draco reached out his hand to shake, Potter looked down like it was a snake about to strike. Draco found this both deeply satisfying and rage-inducing at the same time. Though he would not allow Potter out of this handshake now. Not with Potter's dignity intact, at least.

"You- you are in the department-" Potter asked stupidly. He shoved his glasses up his nose as if buying for time.

Draco simpered. "I'm the department's Veela Liaison. Hasn't Granger told you about our successful-"

"Oh, right," Potter's voice was hoarse. "Jolly good." Which, honestly, sounded ridiculous coming from Potter and was kind of hilarious. Potter inelegantly grabbed Draco's hand and shook it roughly. Beyond that first angry glare, Harry had been unable to look at him. The second their hands released, Potter turned as far from Draco as he could while still addressing the next Liaison.

Draco very carefully hid the smirk that wanted to curl up now that he was watching Potter's back. He couldn't help but feel that he won that round. And he couldn't help the vindictive glee that came from watching Potter's hunched shoulders as he chatted with Darlene. She was a very nice vampire who was also a tipsy chatter and might have had a little too much Fairy blood from the bar.

Draco didn't care if Potter's discomfort was from Draco or his current conversationalist. It was still so nice to see Potter suffer.

Some guilty part of him glanced over at Granger, who was still happily chatting away with the Minister. This gala was specifically thrown to celebrate her efforts with the Department of Magical Beings Liaisons. She either hadn't seen the spectacle or was pretending very hard that she hadn't. Time for an escape, in either case.