Drarry Oneshots (𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆)

In Our Blood

Top!Harry

Bottom!Draco

Author: secretsalex ( on ao3 )

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September

"Amsterdam? With Malfoy? For a bloody year?" Ron has an irritating habit of repeating pertinent points of a story back whenever he finds something particularly unbelievable.

Harry nods grimly. "They hired him to lift the blood curse on the Van Boer house."

Ron whistles between his teeth. "Good luck there. You read about that place? Supposedly the curse is leaking, infecting the whole block—really nasty." He takes a thoughtful sip of his pint, pushing a chunk of hair back behind his ear. He's taken to wearing it cropped short on the sides and longer on top recently; Harry's certain it's Hermione's doing, part of her gentle shove to get him back into the dating pool after their breakup last year. It suits him, softens his square jaw, highlights his straight nose. "Still don't see what that's got to do with you, mate."

"It's Malfoy's probation, isn't it?" Hermione interjects, just as enthusiastic as she'd ever been back at Hogwarts when she was rushing to answer a question, her hand waving frantically in the air. "He's barred from leaving the country, right?"

Hermione is, of course, right. "Yup. They gave him seven years, so he's still got a year to go."

Ron scowls. "So instead of just telling the twat he has to stay in England, the bloody Ministry's paying to send you along to babysit him?"

As much as it chafes Harry to hear it put so bluntly, that's the long and short of it. Kingsley had called it, officially, a "security detail" when he'd offered Harry the contract, which is lipstick on the proverbial niffler if Harry's ever seen it. There's precious little security to be done, unless he's wildly misunderstood the assignment. "Apparently the Dutch Minister called Kingsley personally, begging for the favor. The house is a disaster—public endangerment and all, I guess—and Malfoy's the leading expert on pureblood home curses, so..."

"Leading expert on Dark Arts, more like," Ron grumbles.

"Did you read the article the Prophet did about him last month?" Hermione's eyes shine with the light of knowledge about to be imparted. "He got into the field after he cleaned up the Manor after the War. You can only imagine what kind of Dark residue was left after the Death Eaters had been there for all that time. It's a very specific kind of curse-breaking, takes months, and those really old wizarding homes are practically sentient."

"You think this is an effective use of Harry's time, 'Mione?" Hermione's nickname on Ron's lips sounds natural, easy, and Harry loves him for it. They'd both been so oddly formal with one another at first, after they'd split. They're easing into something closer to friendship now, to Harry's eternal relief. He hadn't fancied the idea of falling victim to a joint custody arrangement between the two of them.

A funny expression crosses Hermione's pretty features at Ron's question, and she glances at Harry a moment too long. "I think Malfoy will be a prat, and I doubt there will be much for Harry to do," she finally says. "But maybe that's not a terrible thing."

Harry bites back a sigh. She sounds like a softer, gentler version of Kingsley, who had expressed a similar sentiment when he'd offered Harry the job. Before he'd even gotten around to mentioning Amsterdam, he'd just leaned back in his chair and given Harry a long, searching look over his steepled fingers, fixing him with an expression that was 90% Minister of Magic, 10% Concerned Father, and 100% guilt-inducing. "How have you been?" he'd finally asked, and Harry hadn't needed a translation charm to know that what he really meant was Hey, Harry, have you had any more bouts of uncontrolled, dangerous magic? Like when you botched your last raid and nearly killed two suspects? Remember?