Stuck With You / drarry

Ghosts of the Past, Present, and Future

Another week at work went by, and the memory potion case was not moving forward. Even though Harry wasn't even on the case, he hated waiting around with nothing he could do about it. Of course, he had other things to worry about, like the seemingly endless stream of permission slips waiting to be signed finding their way onto his desk. Patrick had promised Harry that he could tag along in the interrogation once they were able to get around to do it. For now, they were just standing by, waiting for the Department of Mysteries to be done with the serum to counter the effects of the memory potion. Harry's head was swarming with creative ways to get Ridgenorth to talk, however, the whole week went by with no news.

On Saturday morning, Harry was sitting at the kitchen table, finishing his breakfast and reading the Prophet. The sun was already high, but he had once again had trouble falling asleep, and couldn't be bothered to get up early on a weekend. Now the light was flooding his kitchen, making sharp shadows appear behind his glass of orange juice and the coffee cup; outside it was turning into a warm April day, and the kitchen had warmed up quite a lot from just the sun shining in. A smell of coffee was still lingering in the air as Harry got up to change. He glanced at his garden, slowly illuminated by the sun climbing higher and higher in the sky, the white garden furniture were almost blinding, reflecting all of the light hitting their surface.

Just when Harry had cleaned his breakfast dishes and put them away, there was a sharp knock on his front door. Demanding yet polite: his heart jumped into his throat. What was Malfoy doing at his place, again? Harry frantically made his way into the hallway, and looked at his reflection in the mirror: he was wearing his muggle sweatpants and an old Quidditch t-shirt that was too tight. Harry tried to quickly smooth out his hair with his fingers, he had left his wand in the kitchen, shit. It was too late to get it now.

Heart pounding, and his hands shaking a little, Harry opened the door to find the tall man standing on his steps. This time the parts had been switched, with Malfoy wearing sleek robes, hair done, whereas the role of the dishevelled confused person was left to Harry. There was a determined look in the blond man's eyes, and Harry knew from experience that he was either going to hear it or get it. He reflexively squeezed the doorknob out of Malfoy's line of sight, to gain stability, or something of the sorts.

Before Harry could ask Malfoy what on earth he was doing at his place once again, the git already had his explanation at the ready: "Your blasted Ministry is performing a search on my mother's house and they kicked us out." He was glaring at Harry, like he himself had suggested such a search. It didn't make sense though, why would they search Narcissa's things? Harry felt awkward even thinking about the not-so-gentle reminder Malfoy must have gotten from when the Manor had been searched and sealed.

"What? Why? She's no longer a suspect in the case," Harry frowned and scratched his head. Evergrey had been very clear when they last talked and they had agreed that Narcissa wasn't under suspicion anymore. Hopefully Malfoy understood that no one was going to take their house away from them, not on Harry's watch, in any case.

Malfoy rolled his eyes as if Harry had just stated the stupidest thing he'd heard all morning, which was probably true. "So we thought, but apparently it is a 'precaution', it should take a couple of hours for them to finish, and since I personally blame you for all the pain and suffering, you don't mind if I..." the bastard was already trying to make his way in through the door, but Harry quickly moved his arm to block his way. Malfoy's look was dirty to say the least.

"Woah, woah, woah, first of all, if you were both kicked out, where's your mum?" As Harry had oh-so-cleverly detected, Malfoy had arrived alone, and if they were both kicked out of the house... Harry found it suspicious that he would ever leave his dear mother behind, especially since Narcissa was such a fan of Harry's nowadays.