𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛 | drarry

Chapter 1

When the first paper pellet fell on Harry's report, he swiped it away with his hand without a word. When the second one dropped straight into his ink bottle, he sighed, but vanished it with a flick of his wand.

It was only when the third one hit his head that he slapped the top of his desk with both hands and finally said something.

"Damn it, Malfoy, can't you go and do that somewhere else?" Harry yelled, disentangling the paper from his hair. "I'm trying to work."

Draco brought his hand to his chest in indignation, a hurt look on his face. "Why, Potter, I'm working here too."

"Working?" Harry said with a frown. "In what part of your twisted mind has casting paper pellets with a slingshot on Kingsley's face as a target anything remotely to do with work?"

"Ah, but I am refining my aim, Potter, a very important ability when you're an Auror of my calibre," Draco replied haughtily.

"With a slingshot?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Well, of course, an expert Auror like me has to get used to any kind of weapons, to be prepared to face any situation."

Harry sighed again, which was something that had become quite natural around Draco in the three years they had been partners. He didn't even know why he still bothered trying to reason with the git. Maybe I'm a masochist, he thought.

"Well go and refine your aim somewhere else. I have a report to write and since you won't be writing it..." he trailed off.

Of course, Draco wouldn't. He never did. Harry was always the one writing reports, which was probably for the best in the end. The one and only time Draco had to write a report had been after a particularly strenuous day that had ended up with both of Harry's arms broken.

Kingsley had insisted Draco write the report immediately, and he had complied, not without cursing Kingsley under his breath. When he had visited Harry later that night at St Mungo's, beaming like a loon, Harry had known there was trouble ahead.

He had been right; the report ended up being a giant stick figure apparently representing Harry, with both arms at a weird angle.

The next day, Kingsley had summoned them both in his office. It was the last time Draco had ever touched a report.

"Potter." Draco said shaking his head like he was addressing a three-year-old. "You wouldn't want me to do all the work here? I already was the brilliant mastermind behind the operation, so it's only fair you at least do a little something. It's a partnership, Potter, not a Malfoyship. You're not paid for me to do all the work, are you? So I come up with the clever, cunning plans, and you write the lame reports. I assure you it's very good for you and for the..."

He came closer and took a glance at Harry's scribbling, wrinkling his nose. "Well, it's at least good for you, I guess."

Harry was about to retort when a sharp thump on the window cut him short. Malfoy hastily dropped his slingshot and opened the window to let the screech owl drop the oversize package on Harry's desk, spilling his ink bottle and spreading ink all over the report in the process. Harry's eyes widened and he hastily cast a Scourgify to erase the stain.

"Payday, ladies and gentlemen!" Draco said while bouncing up and down around the office until he'd reached Harry's desk and grabbed the packet. He cast a quick spell that had the packet burst open, spreading the numerous letters it contained onto every single inch of Harry's desk and spilling his ink bottle on the report once again.

"Bloody fucking hell," Harry said between clenched teeth, although he didn't know why he bothered, really, since he knew what was about to happen anyway.