Ain't No Friend Of Mine by tkp(lettered)

1.6K 13 4
                                    

Ain't No Friend Of Mine by tkp (lettered)

Genre: Drama, Mistery
Rating: G
Word count: 33k
Tags: Post Hogwarts EWE, Animagus Dog(s), Magic, Pre-Slash, Friendship

Summary:

Draco has to face the truth of who he is. The truth has long hair and slobbers.

Original Prompt: Fluff, humor, angst (but only if it's resolved with happiness at the end), happy endings. Getting-together-fics [. . .] If there's plot, that is even more exciting, [. . . ] clueless!Harry . . . dragon_charmer, there was going to be more of that plot thing in here, and also learning to be an Animagus for plot furthering purposes, but said plot sort of went crazy, and in the end I had to reduce the original outline for the story. Even though this is really, really long, it's mostly character studies! I hope it gives you something of what you wanted, anyway.

Quotes:

A man came stomping into the office and Draco's thoughts. "Do we really think Potter can do it?" he asked the women.

Of course, they saved utter and complete indiscretion for Greg.

At the noise, Potter stumbled in, looking rather worse for lack of caffeination. He flicked the Muggle light switches, then somehow managed to remember he was a wizard and used his wand to flick the blinds. Morning sunlight flooded in the office, and in it Pansy's mascara was smudged from an obvious hard night; Millie looked well-flossed as always, and Greg looked worried sick.

Potter looked from one to the other as if he thought he was still dreaming.

Before Potter could properly focus, Pansy slid off his desk in a fluid movement to face him. Her girlish, sing-song voice was steely. "Potter," she announced. "We're here to hire you."

Potter blinked.

"We want you to find Draco Malfoy."

Potter rubbed his eyes and looked down at Draco. "I thought you would've let me know there was someone here," was all he had to say.

What, like that's my job here all of the sudden? Draco thought to himself. I just started today. Don't I get a—I don't know—an orientation? With instruction pamphlets, about how I'm not your doorbell or personal secretary. Also, eclairs.

Aloud, he barked.

Art by aaraujo|Deviantart

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Art by aaraujo
|Deviantart

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