Chérie, parchments and quills

Chapter Eight - Halloween slips

Friday, October 29th 2010

Harry was sat in his private chambers - marking homework assignment at the small kitchen table, when he heard the door knock. It was about half two in the afternoon; he hadn't been expecting anyone.

"Draco." He greeted in mild surprise once he'd opened the door. His stomach seemed to squirm, but he firmly ignored it and gestured for the blond man to come inside. "Coffee?"

"Please." Nodded Draco, sitting down on one of the dark blue armchairs that Harry had kept since their firewhisky night.

Draco and Harry had made a habit of meeting up every fortnight or so for coffee - or whiskey when they'd had a bit of a busy week and needed the pick-me-up, but Harry had certainly not been expecting the blond man today. Draco had never showed up without arranging anything first.

Harry was still terrified that his feelings for Draco sat precariously on a precipice - likely to tip into something more than platonic friendship if he wasn't careful, and he was still growing fonder of Tau every day.

His crash on Tau was a blossoming like wild flowers in an undisturbed meadow, he was caught hook line and sinker, and the man's personality was so intoxicating and charismatic. Tau's words were both witty and refined. The man radiated intelligence, eloquence, and of course, that light, playful, amusing arrogance of his -- but he always made him smile, laugh, or contemplate things he wouldn't have before. The man also had a calm, appeasing quality to him; the type of calm that Harry could imagine in front of a crackling fire, with coffee and gentle conversation; the type of calm that was coming home from work and embracing each other.

Draco was fucking gorgeous – attractively so in the, 'Mmmm' department. He was pleasant company for the most part - now that they'd dissolved their enemy status and false notions of each other, and it seemed like Draco enjoyed his company vice versa, but the man was still closed off, guarded, and his personality was mercurial. Draco was also real – very real and very much present.

Coffee made; Harry frowned as he sat down in the armchair opposite Draco, noticing that he seemed to be in deep thought and pondering something. "Everything okay?" He asked.

"Mmm. Sorry for intruding on you unannounced Potter -- Harry, but there was something I wished to discuss with you. Mind you, it might be nothing to worry about." Draco sipped at his coffee, but Harry could see the slight frown he tried to hide. Draco appeared concerned or worried. This was Draco in a serious mood.

"Don't be -- sorry that is. I was just grading. What did you want to discuss?" Frowned Harry, watching as Draco lowered his coffee and taped the side of the mug with his ring index finger in thought. Harry sipped at his own coffee and waited.

"I just had the sixth year Gryffindor and Slytherin class." Draco alluded.

"Silas?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows and lowing his mug.

"Indeed. They were making the draught of living death a couple of week ago. I believe that some of Mr Avery's potion had been missing at the time – the quantity was off even after he'd handed in his sample, but I can't prove it. I tested the sample myself; it appears stronger somehow –- more potent. That is rather worrying."

"What does this have to do with me?" Asked Harry, suspecting he knew which way this was leaning, but he wanted to see what Draco had concluded himself. He hadn't really spoken to Silas Avery since that day in Draco's potions class – when the boy had demanded to know what he had been doing in the class room six weeks ago, and they tended to avoid each other in the halls and such.

"Today, I overheard him talking to Mr Korbin Fraizer-"

"That's the Slytherin boy with the long black hair right –- really pale skin, quiet, hardworking?" Harry asked, confirming the face to the name.