Draco refused Harry’s offer to stay at the house that weekend. Draco understood that it was hard for either of them to ept that they wouldn’t be seeing Teddy until late December, but his confession didn’t undo the past three years. No, Draco and Harry, however much they still cared for each other, needed to understand themselves before they could go about understanding each other.

Draco didn’t leave his flat the whole weekend. He ignored floo calls from Hermione and Pansy, and even one from Luna whom Draco assumed had been put up to it by one of the other two—maybe even both. He stayed in bed and drifted in and out of sleep all through Saturday and Sunday, to the point where on Sunday he was disorientated, and his body clock waspletely off. He knew it was bad for him, especially considering now was a time when he should be trying very hard to keep himself functional, but he was battered and bruised, and he needed time to mope.

When Monday morning loomed, Draco dragged himself out of his hovel and into the Ministry, with little hope of achieving anything remotely useful. Instead of going to his small office, Draco headed straight up to see the Minister’s secretary who was fully prepared for an argument when the minister himself appeared.

‘Mr. Malfoy.’ Kingsley said, looking surprised. Once he took in Draco’s dishevelled appearance, something absolutely unheard of, his expression changed to a serious one.

‘Push my day back by fifteen minutes. This is important.’ He said to her. She was less than impressed, but didn’t dare question him, and began scrabbling around for random pieces of parchment. Draco knew she wouldn’t last the year out, she was clearly far too poorlyanised for such a position.

‘I apologise for dropping in on you like this, sir.’ Draco said formally. As the door to Kingsley’s office closed, all attempts at formality were dropped.

‘Malfoy, if this is too much for you, I’m more than happy to terminate your contract.’ Kinglsey said severely as he sat down at his desk.

‘How did you—’

‘Draco, I knew from the minute I drew up the agreement and found you’re still listed on the magical register as Draco L. Potter.’ Kingsley said simply.

‘You didn’t tell Harry, did you?’ Draco asked him. That was the last thing he needed.

‘No, I did not. I assumed that since Harry has been referring to you as Malfoy, he is also unaware of this.’

‘Yes. I know it looks bad, but I just never got around to changing it back. You have to understand, with my family history—’

‘Draco my boy, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I understand. Even if I didn’t, you don’t owe me an explanation just because I’m the Minister for Magic. You’re entitled to your privacy. Now, as for your current state, is there anything you’d like me to know?’ Kingsley fixed Draco with a knowing look and Draco understood why Kingsley had been such a formidable Auror.

‘I want to make it clear that I have no problem with Head Auror Potter. He has only ever been kind and professional whilst I’ve been here.’ Lies. ‘I have some personal issues I’m currently working through, and I feel it would be best for me to move on. As far as I know, my contract only extended to providing potions expertise and since it doesn’t stipulate any specific hours, I believe I may be called in to consult on an as-and-when basis.’ Draco knew he needn’t have fallen back into professional speech but there was no way he was going to talk about this to the Minister for Magic, however close friends they had once been.

‘Of course, Draco. I designed the contract to make it as flexible for you as possible. The immediate danger appears to have passed and I don’t intend to force you to be here if it will damage your health. All I ask is that you remain until the end of the week while I make some arrangements, can you do that?’ Draco hadn’t felt so much relief in a long time.

‘Absolutely, Minister.’ He said, feeling just a little bit lighter than he had when he’d arrived.

‘Excellent. If I don’t see you again before you go Draco, I’d personally like to thank you for your help. You’ve saved lives here, and it won’t go unnoticed.’

Draco tried his best to ignore the finalment, he refused to be a charity case. Angling personal favours in the right political spheres had been his father’s gag and look how well that had worked out for him.

Draco made a point to go to Hermione’s office just before their regular lunchtime catch- up that day. He wanted to go somewhere outside the Ministry so that he could talk to her in relative privacy.

‘Draco!’ She greeted him warmly as he entered her office. Unlike Kingsley, Hermione didn’t have a secretary yet, she’d been interviewing since she’d taken on her new role, but no one would ever match the standards of theanisational queen that was Hermione Granger-Weasley. She rose to kiss his cheeks as always. ‘I wasn’t expecting you. You’ve note to cancel our get-together, are you? I’m having a hellish day and I was really quite looking forward to it.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of blowing off my hot date!’ He joked. He really had been feeling much better since he’d had his little chat with Kingsley and he figured humour would work as a good distraction from the conversation he didn’t really want to have.

‘Hot date. You’re so full of shit, Draco.’ She laughed. It was funny seeing Hermione without the kids around because it was like she made the most of the opportunity to swear. ‘Don’t let Ronald hear you say that.’ She shot him a playful look and he rolled his eyes.

‘Trust me Granger, I have no intention of going near Ronald any time soon.’ He emphasised her use of Weasley’s full name for dramatic effect. He was nothing if notmitted.

‘Yes, yes. You can pretend you hate each other as much as you like but we’ve all seen you bonding over wizards’ chess and don’t you even try to deny it. Now, where are you taking me for lunch? I’m fucking starving.’

‘Draco, it doesn’t have to be like this.’ Hermione sighed sadly. He’d taken her to a new Italian place not far from the Ministry—muggle—and away from prying eyes and ears.

‘I tried, Hermione. I’ve made it four months and nothing’s any different.’ He was frustrated. He’d hoped she’d see the effort he’d gone to and how much it had affected him.

‘How isn’t it any different? I know you and Harry had a talk. He wouldn’t tell us what it was about, but he seemed really pleased you two were making progress. He even thought you might be on your way to being friends again!’ Her poor pasta dish was being massacred by her fork as she took her frustration out on her food.

‘Harry talks shit. Since when were we ever friends? I told him the truth about what happened to our marriage and yes, I should have told him long before now, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to start playing happy families. Did he tell you about how he lied to me? How he stole from my flat and used me of being an addict? How he threatened my relationship with Teddy to try and force a confession out of me? He went full Head Auror on my ass Hermione and that’s not ok. I’m not saying I didn’t deserve it, because I absolutely did, but he’s deluded if he thinks it changes anything at all.’

‘Oh. No, he didn’t tell me any of that. He’s been so secretive lately. He keeps flaking out on our arrangements for the most pathetic reasons. Ron started bugging me to find out what was wrong, as if I don’t already have enough to do.’

‘Yeah, well, I hear he’s very busy with his new girlfriend these days so that’s probably why. Interesting that he hasn’t brought her to meet you though.’ Draco knew he was shit stirring but really, would he be Draco Malfoy if he didn’t? Oh, wait…

‘Stop distracting me. Why are you really so hellbent on leaving Draco, don’t give me any of this “I need a change of scenery” bullshit because you and I both know that’s a lie.’

Sometimes, he really hated Hermione.

‘I have to leave because I’m still in love with him.’ He said bluntly. Hermione’s eyes widened, and she leant forwards on her elbows. ‘I’m still in love with him but I don’t see us ever managing to make it work and I want to move far away where I can find someone who’ll love me without all of this messy history. Is that a good enough answer for you?’

‘Draco, I—you know what? Fine. I can’t argue with that. It was wrong of me to try and force you to do anything anyway. Just promise me you won’t disappear off the face of the earth? The kids are foreverplaining that they never see Uncle Draco anymore.’

Draco felt a pang of guilt at that. It was true, he had hardly seen Granger’s spawn in recent years, he barely had a reason to visit since he was no longer with Harry and he hadn’t wanted to run into him by ident either. Still, he couldn’t expect the kids to understand that.

‘Alright fine, I’ll floo call once a month.’ She looked at him incredulously and went to argue. ‘No, Hermione. Take what you’re given.’ She huffed at him but thought better of starting an argument.

‘Ok fine,’ she said as she finished her pasta, ‘but if this whole thing blows up in your face, don’te crying to me.’

‘Pfff, as if I would.’ He definitely would.

Hermione was solemn as they walked back to the Ministry after their lunch and Draco was genuinely sorry to be the cause of her poor mood. If someone had told his teenage self that he would be sorry to cause Hermione Granger pain, he’d have hexed them into the middle of next week. As it was, she’d be one of his closest friends and even though he couldn’t keep up his end of the deal, he appreciated that she cared enough about him to ask him to stay.

Back in his office he decided on a game plan for his departure. He decided to create a giant pin board, like the ones he’d seen on muggle detective shows, and map out all the evidence and theories he had so far, so that anyone who was working on the case after him would know where he was going with it. On the muggle shows, they usually started with the suspects in the middle and worked their way out but since Draco wasn’t still wholly convinced Harry’s prime suspects were part of the case, he decided to start with the victims, and work his way backwards.

All in all, it took him two hours to get all of his information out onto the board and in the end it helped him understand his own mind better than he expected it to. He probably looked like a lunatic. He probably was a lunatic; running around his office amongst piles of photographs and scraps of paper. It was ananized mess that somehow represented the inner workings of Draco’s mind and he pieced it all together, bit by bit, until the end result was something that was vaguely understandable to someone living outside Draco’s head.

He still couldn’t figure out why they couldn’t find any concrete evidence which linked Harry’s suspects to the case. Everything they had was purely circumstantial and despite the fact that Harry seemed convinced the case was sewn up nicely, Draco had a niggling feeling that there was something glaringly obviou

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