Verus Amor

Underneath the Surface

"The deeper you dig, the more dirt you uncover. But sometimes, you find something unexpected—like buried truths."

---

The office had become a war zone. Piles of parchment littered the floor, their once neat stacks now forgotten casualties of frustration. The remnants of hastily consumed takeout cluttered the desks, the lingering smell of cold coffee blending with the acrid scent of barely-contained tempers.

Draco couldn't remember the last time he had worked this hard on a case—nor the last time he had wanted to throttle his partner so much. He sat stiffly at his desk, quill tapping against the wooden surface with barely restrained annoyance. Across the room, Harry paced like a caged lion, his frustration radiating off him in waves.

"There has to be something we're missing," Harry muttered, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Something we've overlooked."

Draco glanced up from the parchment he had been pretending to read, unable to resist the quip that was practically begging to be made. "Well, I'm sure if you keep muttering to yourself like that, the solution will magically appear."

Harry stopped pacing and turned to glare at Draco, his eyes narrowing. "It's better than just sitting there and doing nothing."

"Nothing?" Draco repeated, incredulous. He stood up, dropping his quill with a clatter. "I've been combing through these reports all day. Just because I'm not pacing around like a deranged hippogriff doesn't mean I'm not doing my job."

"Oh, so now you're the model employee, are you?" Harry snapped, his voice rising. "Forgive me if I'm not impressed by your ability to sit quietly and criticize everyone else's efforts."

Draco's eyes flashed with irritation, and he took a step forward, his hands clenched at his sides. "And forgive me if I'm not impressed by your ability to throw a tantrum every time we hit a dead end. Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with being the hero, you'd notice when someone else is actually trying to help."

Harry took another step closer, his anger barely contained. "Don't you dare lecture me about helping, Malfoy. I'm the one who's been running myself into the ground trying to find a way forward, while you—"

Julien, sensing the argument escalating to a point of no return, interjected with a sharp whistle. "Enough! Both of you!"

Draco and Harry both turned to look at him, their anger momentarily halted by Julien's stern tone.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Julien said, looking between them with exasperation. "You're just going around in circles, snapping at each other instead of focusing on the case. We need to take a step back."

Draco opened his mouth to argue, but Julien held up a hand, cutting him off. "I'm serious. We're all too wound up. We need a break—a real break. Let's go get a drink, clear our heads, and come back with a fresh perspective."

Draco hesitated, glancing over at Harry, who looked just as reluctant. But the exhaustion was catching up to him, and he could see it in Harry's eyes as well. With a begrudging nod, Draco relented. "Fine. But if Potter starts another argument, I'm leaving."

Harry scoffed but didn't protest further. Julien grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Trust me, you'll thank me later."

---

The pub Julien led them to was a cozy, dimly lit place nestled in a narrow side street. The warm, golden glow from the lamps cast a comforting light over the rustic wooden tables and soft leather chairs. The air was thick with the smell of good food and the sound of easy conversation, a stark contrast to the tension they had left behind in the office.