Legilimens // A sequel to "Obliviate"

Chapter 6

Chapter 6 (PRAISE MY GOOD MOOD)

3rd pov Harry

(FLUFFY DRARRY)

Draco and Harry did not discuss their heated almost-sex the next morning when Harry awoke curled in the crook of Draco's elbow, but Draco's promise that he would love Harry regardless of whether or not they had sex stuck with him. He felt endlessly lucky that he had been given the chance to know Draco despite being enemies in the past.

Harry nuzzled closer to his still sleeping Slytherin, drinking in everything about him. From the way, he smelled like strong yet subtle English tea and the green grass fields surrounding the quidditch pitch at Hogwarts, and clean wind in his nostrils as he soared high above the grounds, and freedom. To the way, his golden eyebrows, hair, and lashes caught morning sunlight from behind the curtains.

Harry truly still felt like he was asleep sometimes. He felt like he might wake up from this painfully good dream and find that it had all been falsehood he'd made up. He supposed being hunted by a serial murderer like Voldemort for the better part of one's life made it harder to settle into the peaceful feeling. He hoped someday he would get used to waking up in Draco's arms, in their bed and apartment but for some reason, he doubted he ever would. It was too sweet to be true.

Harry stretched, hoping to wake Draco so that he would kiss him and maybe make fun of his bedhead. It wasn't his fault the excessive amounts of hair potion Draco used made the completion a little unfair. Draco stirred, pulling Harry closer to his side in his sleep, causing Harry to sigh at the perfectness of it all. He was home, just like at Hogwarts.

-time-skip-

Harry's first day of scheduled Auror training was only hours away and Harry was fussing about with his tie, then the pockets of his robes, then his accepted application, which he had re-read ten times that morning at least to make sure everything was correct, and also so he started to believe that he was actually going through with this. Draco watched from a kitchen chair, sipping his tea quietly, if Harry had been more observant and less daft when it came to certain things he might've noticed Draco's apprehension in his tight expression and even more rigid posture.

Harry studied himself in a mirror over the false fireplace, fixing his tie one last time. "If I leave now I'll be two hours early," Harry complained for the second or third time. Draco nodded slowly, still wearing a tight expression. He cleared his throat and sipped his tea as if he might've liked to say something to protest Harry joining the Aurors one last time, but he held back. "I love you." He offered, pacing back and forth in a way that was very un-Harry of him which easily betrayed his nerves before sitting down beside draco.

"I know you do," Draco whispered biting his short nail and staring off into space. He didn't know how to describe the horrible feeling that Harry would be lost forever what with his bravery that doubled as recklessness and the target on his back signed with you-know-who's name.

Harry grasped his lover's hand and kissed his pale knuckles in an attempt to comfort them both. They sat in silence for the next few minutes before Harry declared that he was going to show up a bit early. He was still nearly 1 hour early with Dissaperation time and check-in to the ministry of magic considered. He kissed Draco's cheek softly and whispered another I love you. Draco snapped out of his concerned stupor and as if he was looking at Harry for the very first time, drank him in, like it was also his last. He kissed him deeply on the mouth and whispered that he loved him too, against Harry's lips.

Harry walked beyond the apartment's anti-disapperation enchantments, turned on the spot, and envisioned the entrance to the Ministry of Magic, a very ordinary red telephone booth he had once used when he was on trial for conspiracy against the ministry. He re-appeared blinking in the sunlight of the mostly empty London street, in an alleyway across from the telephone booth after what felt like a gut-wrenching throttle though the smallest rubber tube a human could physically (or non-physically) fit through.

He adjusted his tie, (which had of course become rather misshapen during the journey) and checked his watch. It was around half 7 and he did not have to be at the ministry until half 8, but he couldn't stop the jitters from starting in his belly at the thought his first official day as an underling auror. He strode across the street, noticing a tea house stood down the corner of the line of shops next to the secret Ministry entrance.

He made the decision to stop for some tea, thinking he could bring a cuppa to whoever he was working under. The shop's doorbell rang as he entered and he was greeted by the warm cozy smell of well-brewed tea and buttered chocolate croissants. There was a familiar clean scent in the air that he couldn't quite place as he stepped up to the register to order 2 English breakfast blends. Harry noticed the barista wrote a little heart on his drink and he would've been flattered if he wasn't so gay. She handed the drink to him with a sweet smile and winked.

Harry blushed and accepted the drink, cursing himself right away because he'd only brought wizard money with him, he had no muggle money to pay for the tea. "I'm so sorry, I just realized I forgot my wallet, is it ok if I pay you back tomorrow?" Harry asked, blushing some more. The barista waved him off saying it was on the house and for him to have a nice day.

He exited the shop and descended into the ministry with 45 minutes of free time to spare. He marveled at the cold yet sophisticated architecture around him as the great English branch of the wizarding government's office came into view. He stepped out of the telephone booth's platform and hurried into the hustle of the busy witches and wizards going about their business.

He headed for the Auror Office which he'd been shown the way to upon his acceptance into the Auror training program. Once he found the branch of the ministry designated for Aurors greeted the receptionist, a young brunette witch in midnight blue robes. She looked over the information he presented him with and gave him instructions to take the hall to the right and then have a seat beyond the furthest most door to the left. He nodded gratefully, clutching both teas and feeling rather silly carrying them.

When he found the leftmost door he entered quietly. Harry's eyes shifted around the room, locking on a man with Dark black hair and sharp handsome features. He could've sworn he looked sort of familiar in some way but at the same time, he was sure they had never met. The man sat behind an almost equally dark mahogany desk reading over a manilla folder.

"You must be Harry," The man said, dropping his tone slightly as he said the name. Harry nodded, taking a seat which the man conjured for him out of thin air.

"The very same." Harry quipped weakly, his tea was starting to sound really good to him as he had nothing to do with his hands. He offered the other cup to the man which he presumed was his superior with a smile. The man smiled back.

"I'm Victor Fern and I'll be supervising your training for the time being." The man said, his smooth yet slightly husky voice traveling throughout the office. Harry took a sip of his tea, humming appreciatively, it was slightly on the sweet side but it nonetheless warmed him to his core.

"Alright, I'm grateful to be here, thank you sir." Harry said, unsure of what else was wanted of him.

"Please call me Vic, all my friends do." Victor smiled.