A/N: This is slowly becoming my favorite fandom (Sorry Merlin!). So. Ummm…My memory of the books is not great (too lazy and busy to reread) so I may have taken some liberties (aka ran wild with imagination) with this. Apologies.

Patience is a Virtue

Draco was not having a good day.

First, he'd been awakened at a dingy Auror safe house by a Muggle baby screaming in the house next door, a scant three hours after falling into the rickety bed at one in the morning…and since Draco was a naturally light sleeper, the squalling brat kept him tossing and turning for another two hours before he was finally able to fall back asleep. Only then he was awakened shortly after for work by a house-elf with what was probably the highest, squeakiest voice ever produced by natural vocal cords. So needless to say, Draco was not a happy camper when he stomped into his office that morning.

His fellow Aurors didn't help matters any. "Ooh, look what the cat dragged in! Rough night, Malfoy?"

"Stuff it, Danvers," Draco growled at the pockmarked brunette whom he had the dubious honor of calling his neighbor. Danvers beamed, happy to get a reaction out of the normally calm and cool Draco. Further irritated, Draco shoved into his tiny office. He collapsed in his chair, his head thumping forward on his desk.

"You look like hell," his well meaning office mate, Tyler Chambers, commented dryly.

"I need coffee before I hex somebody."

"Already on your desk." Draco could hear the smile in Chambers's voice. He closed his eyes. Sometimes he absolutely hated that overly perky man.

"You'll be my first target, Chambers," he called, sensing the other leaving the room.

"Sorta figured that," he called back cheekily. Draco grunted, reaching for his coffee…which he nearly spilled all over his nice clean robes as a certain someone suddenly Apparated into the room.

"Draco!" Pansy squealed.

"Dammit, Pansy!" Draco shouted back, dabbing at the small coffee spot on his shirt.

"Sorry." She didn't sound sorry at all. "Guess who just got transferred here?"

Draco glared. "Something tells me I couldn't care less."

Pansy pouted. "Fine. I won't tell you, then."

Draco sighed. Pansy was in one of her childish moods again. "Fine."

"Fine!" she shot back, seating herself at Chambers's desk, arms crossing petulantly over her chest. As Draco tried to work-filling out a report on the capture of a renegade Death Eater the night before-she stared at the crown of his platinum blond head, knowing that it would quickly drive him insane. Draco lasted for about five minutes before he slammed his quill down, his head shooting up to glare at her. "What, Pansy?"

She smirked at him. "Not what. Who. And I'm still not telling."

Draco sighed again. He could feel a hangover-grade headache coming on. "Just tell me, Pansy. You're obviously dying to."

But this must have been a day where Pansy felt more inclined to torture Draco than to mother him, because her smirk widened. "No. I think I'll just let it be a surprise." She Apparated quickly, before he could get his hands on something large and heavy to chuck at her.

Finally, some peace, Draco thought. But just as he lifted the now lukewarm coffee to his lips again, there was another loud pop-and this time Draco did spill his coffee, all over his nice new slacks.

He jumped up. "Son of a bitch!"

"My name is Tally, sir," the house-elf squeaked innocently, thinking she was the one being addressed. She placed a red folder on his desk-a new assignment with a hot lead. "Your assignment, sir."

As Tally disappeared with yet another pop, Draco sighed, evaporating the liquid from his pants with a quick spell and wave of his wand. He reached for the folder.

The target's name was Daedalus Adamson, a rogue wizard who-unsurprisingly-Transfigured a stool into a pair of seagull wings, which he used to fly out of the holding cell the Aurors supposedly guarding him had put him in until he could be escorted to Azkaban. The file didn't list Daedalus's previous charge, only his last confirmed location-a quiet little Wizarding neighborhood near Diagon Alley, in London. He could easily Floo there in five minutes.

Draco let out a small breath, allowing himself a small smile. A hunt was just what he needed right now.

…

As it turned out, a hunt was not what he needed right now.

Daedalus had been easy enough to find. He'd been sloppy with his freedom, walking out in the open in broad daylight. All Draco had to do was flash Daedalus's picture at a pretty blonde woman magically drying her washing in her front yard and she told him exactly where he was holed up-four houses down from hers.

And it all went to hell from there.

Apparently, despite Draco's cautious approach, Daedalus saw him coming, because Draco's foot had barely crossed into his yard when the man himself burst out of a second floor window of the squat little eyesore of a house, flying again on Transfigured wings.

Draco swore. "Stupefy!"

Daedalus dodged the spell, dipping smoothly out of the way. But instead of doing the smart thing and flying away while he had the chance, he looked down at Draco, a tobacco stained smile stretched across his greasy tanned face.

"Well if it isn't the little Malfoy heir," he sneered in a thick Mediterranean accent. "They spoke highly of you, back in that prison. The standards must be much lower in this country if their most highly praised cannot even cast straight."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back, as the saying goes. Growling low in his throat, Draco jabbed his wand at the ground. The wordless spell launched him high in the air like a pale-haired javelin. Draco had the satisfaction of hearing Daedalus utter a very birdlike squawk, but the other couldn't get out of the way in time. Draco slammed into him.

For a second, the Transfigured wings attempted to hold their combined weight; but then they crumbled, and Auror and prey fell.

At the last second, Draco let go, falling free of Daedalus. As he had before, in the rare times he'd fallen off his broom during Quidditch practice, he rolled when he hit to disperse most of the force of the fall. Charms he had specially woven into his robes handled the rest. Daedalus, on the other hand, landed hard on his back.

When Daedalus hit, his Transfigured wings shattered like glass, feathers instantly becoming pieces of the original dull gray stool once more. As Draco stood up, brushing the dust carefully from his robes, Daedalus pushed himself up. "Are you fucking crazy?" he howled shrilly. "I could have been killed!"

Draco shrugged. "Pity."

"You-" He reached for his wand, but Draco's Auror reflexes were quicker by far.

"Expelliarmus." Daedalus's wand spun away, well out of his reach. But just to make sure… "Locomotor mortis." Daedalus's legs snapped together, bound by invisible steel bands.

Daedalus glared up at Draco as he approached. "Bastard pureblood son of a jackal bitch."

Draco smiled unpleasantly in return. "Oh really?"

…

Five minutes later, and several choice Greek words best not said in polite company were echoing around the Aurors' floor. Head Auror Lewis was called into the main lobby. What he saw nearly sent his already bulging brown eyes right out of his head.

"Auror Malfoy," he spluttered. "Put him down now!"

"Yes, sir," Draco drawled. Daedalus, who had been hanging upside down by his bound legs, was dropped unceremoniously on his head. Thankfully, the carpet was thick.

"Oops," Draco said with unconvincing innocence, smirking as his boss glared at him. Daedalus crawled over to Lewis, clutching at his ankles. "Please, sir! Send me back to that cell, or Azkaban, I don't care! Just get me away from this crazy bastard!"

Lewis sighed, rubbing at a vein visibly throbbing in his temple. "Shacklebolt, escort Adamson to your office and hold him there until arrangements can be made to send him to Azkaban."

"Yes, sir."

In Lewis's office-which, though slightly bigger than the one Draco shared with Chambers, was even more sparsely furnished-Draco lounged in a hard-backed chair in front of the desk, behind which Lewis stood, glaring at him.

He really shouldn't behave like 'Prince Malfoy', as Pansy liked to call his fits of cool, careless aloofness-even after nine years, his position here was still precarious-but he was in no mood to kiss his superior's ass right now, especially since he really did not like the man-a sentiment that was very much mutual.

"Malfoy," Lewis finally said flatly. "You're out of bloody control, and it's gotten to the point that it's more of a liability to the Ministry, yourself, and your fellow Aurors than an asset. So I've assigned you a partner."

Draco opened his mouth to make a snarky reply, but then Lewis's words sunk in. "A partner? You can't possibly be serious."

Lewis smiled grimly. "I am. Perhaps he'll have more luck sorting you out than I have." He gestured to someone behind Draco, turned around reluctantly to see who it was.

The office door opened, and in walked…Potter, the architect of the disaster Draco's life had become right after the War. Draco's head snapped back around to face Lewis, all cockiness completely gone. "Potter? You're bloody joking."

Lewis smiled, obviously enjoying Draco's discomfort. "Oh no, Malfoy. You know me. I never joke about Auror business. Now as I understand it, you two have a prior history?"

Potter's voice drifted wryly from behind. "You could say that."

"Then I suggest you take a long lunch off to reconnect with your new partner." He smiled unpleasantly as Draco stood up. "Have fun."

…

Well isn't this just icing on the shitcake that is my day, Draco thought to himself as he stomped into the Aurors' cafeteria, Potter in tow. Today's theme was a 1950s Muggle café (yuck, Draco thought sourly). He sat in his usual booth by the magical windows (fake, but they mirrored the conditions aboveground perfectly). Potter slid into the booth in front of him, looking faintly amused.

Draco couldn't help but study him as he pretended to peruse at the menu in front of him. It had been nine long years since he last saw his school rival. Nine years since the end of the War, since Potter, a skinny, pale figure in torn, dirty robes that no longer fit, stood before the Wizarding world and proclaimed the Dark Lord dead, gone and never coming back…

Those nine years had been good to Potter. He was no longer that skinny wraith in too big clothing. He'd filled out a lot-with smooth, healthy muscle, not fat. His skin was tanned, glowing with health, and he'd gotten rid of those damned taped up glasses. His clothes actually fit now too, very well…very, very well…his eyes traced across the shirt that seemed to have molded itself to Potter's chest beneath his robes. He looked good. Damn good. Mouthwater-

Draco's eyes snapped back to the menu, disgusted that he'd actually thought those things about Potter, of all people.

They ordered and ate in relative silence, an oddity in the noisy room. Potter finished first, and when Draco was finished, he said pleasantly, "So what have you been up to these past nine years?"

Draco sighed, rubbing his temple, where a sullen headache was beginning to throb. "Potter, what are you doing?"

"Reconnecting, like Lewis said."

Draco looked at him. "Let's get this straight. I don't like this little arrangement any more than you do. So let's just do each other a favor and stay out of each other's way?"

As Draco spoke, Potter's eyes wandered-to follow the backside of a trainee named Derrick Rory, as he passed right by their table. Unsurprising-Rory had a fine ass-but Potter leaned over slightly, deliberately looking past Draco to watch him continue across the cafeteria.

Annoyed, Draco snapped his fingers in front of Potter's face. As he flinched slightly and looked at Draco in surprise, Draco said dryly, "it's considered polite to pay attention when someone is talking to you."

Potter blinked at him lazily. "Right. You were saying, Malfoy?"

Draco sighed, standing up. "Just stay out of my way, partner, and we'll get along fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I have paperwork to finish." And with that, Draco turned and marched off.

…

Harry had heard exactly what Malfoy had said-all of it. He was just irritating Malfoy for old times' sake, and in the hope that-yes, that was it, what he was hoping for: the million dollar view of Malfoy's spectacular backside. Harry smiled to himself, making no attempt to hide his watching.

Malfoy had definitely changed since school-and not just physically. It was obvious, even in their brief reunion, that Malfoy was no longer the mixed up, vulnerable boy he'd been at their last meeting, no longer torn between the Dark and the Light. This new Malfoy radiated confidence, power, with a fierce, controlled energy bubbling just beneath the surface-a combination that was having a strange, unexpected but not entirely unpleasant effect on Harry's nether regions. Hence why he was suddenly finding himself willfully checking out not only Malfoy's perfect ass but Malfoy in general-

"Staring like that at Malfoy is the quickest way to get you killed around here."

Harry jumped hard in surprise, turning around quickly to see who had spoken. "Ginny!" He hopped out of the booth to give her a big hug. "I didn't know you worked at the Ministry now…?"

She grinned at him. "I don't." She flashed her visitor's pass. "I'm just here visiting Ron and Hermione." She took Malfoy's vacated seat. "So, how was Romania?"

Harry flopped back down, his lips forming a slight pout. "Brilliant. Beautiful. I loved it."

Ginny raised her eyebrows in a very Hermione-ish way. "Then why did you transfer?"

"I didn't want to. It was a favor for an old friend."

"Kingsley?"

Harry nodded. "Though if I'd known the favor was babysitting Malfoy…"

Ginny took a sip of the pumpkin juice that suddenly appeared on the table. "You didn't seem to mind so much earlier," she commented slyly.

Harry sighed. "Staring is one thing; actually dealing with the git on a daily basis is another matter entirely…"

Ginny's face grew serious. "Harry, I know it probably didn't seem like it just now, but he's not the same person he was back in school. He's the best Auror they've got around here, and that includes Kingsley."

It was Harry's turn to raise his eyebrows. "Really? I fail to see how that makes him any better than he was at Hogwarts."

Ginny sighed, dropping payment for her drink on the table as she stood up. "Just watch how he works and you'll see. Oh and a bit of advice: it might be a good idea for you to go see Ron and Hermione as soon as possible. Nobody's told them you're here yet and Hermione's probably about to start sending in the cavalry."

Harry smiled-that was just like Hermione. "Will do. It was good to see you again, Gin. I've missed you."

She gave him another hug and a light kiss on the cheek. "Missed you too. See you at Ron and Hermione's later?"

"Of course." He watch Ginny and her new short pixie cut go with a fond smile. He missed his friends in Romania, of course, but it was good to be home all the same.

…

When Draco returned to his office, he was treated to the sight of Chambers clearing out his desk-Potter's desk now, Draco corrected himself sourly. That was probably the worst part of this new arrangement-besides dealing with Potter, of course. For though he would never, ever admit it out loud, Chambers was the only one around here that Draco could even remotely call friend-besides Pansy, of course.

Draco sat quietly at his desk, but couldn't bring himself to even touch the small pile of paperwork on it. Instead, he watched Chambers limp around his desk.

Five years ago-before they officially met and started sharing an office-Chambers had been a rising star among the Aurors. But then he and his partner, Gloria Morrison, ran afoul of a sect of Dark wizards one night. Morrison had been killed, and Chamber's left leg had been rendered completely useless. His career as a field Auror had been crushed before it had even begun…

"Potter's file is already on your desk," Chambers said, as if it were just a normal day. "Interesting read, even without the Dark Lord bits. You're getting competition for sure, Malfoy."

Draco looked at the file, but didn't pick it up. "You spoil me, Chambers."

Chambers laughed. "No, mate, I'm just a really bored paper pusher." Bored or not, Chambers was good at his job. Nobody knew the Auror Archives better.

It wasn't like Chambers was leaving the Aurors completely-just being moved to a different office. Draco could still go talk to him, or get his help whenever he had the time. But it wouldn't be the same, and both knew it.

"Well," Chambers said into the suddenly heavy silence. "See you around, Malfoy. Be a good boy and don't kill your partner."

Chambers's last comment made Draco smile reluctantly. "See you, Chambers. Can't make any promises."

The other laughed, shaking his head. Draco watched him leave, levitating his small box of belongings in front of him, the smile fading from his face. Grunting in disgust at himself for his sappy behavior, he picked up Potter's file.

Skipping over the usual stats-height, weight, etc.-he came to Potter's career file. Upon his request, after his training, Potter was transferred to an Auror unit specializing in the capture of fugitives in remote areas- in Romania. Capturing hardasses among hardasses. Competition indeed.

In Romania, Potter had participated in the capture of three very prominent Dark wizards-Craig Flanary, an illegal Animagus wanted in the murder of an Auror and his young family; Beatrice Hawke, a dedicated follower of the Dark Lord wanted for unlisted war crimes and for attempting to assassinate the Minister of Magic shortly after the War; and Jackal Ford, a prominent lieutenant in the Dark Lord's brief rule of oppression, also wanted for unlisted war crimes…Draco found himself nodding in approval as he read on. At least this meant he wouldn't be dragging around a lame duck pretty boy has-been…

He looked up at a sudden pop. He narrowed his eyes as Pansy appeared. "So," she said brightly, "did you like your surprise?"

"No," he replied flatly. "You should have told me that bastard Lewis was making Potter my partner!"

Her eyes widened in honest surprise. "I didn't know that part. I just knew that Potter had transferred in from Romania…" As Draco glared, she pouted.

"Honestly, Draco. I would have told you if I had known. Forgive me?"

Normally, Draco would have forgiven her at once-he was a reluctant sucker for a good pout, male or female-but it just wasn't happening today. All he wanted to do was to ward his office against Apparition, lock the door, put his head on his desk and go to sleep…Instead he put aside Potter's file and pulled the stack of paperwork he was supposed to be doing closer to him.

After a second, he sighed. "Pansy, what are you doing?"

"Draco, I'm sorry," she said sincerely, somewhere near his left ear. She was hugging him, both arms wrapped around his shoulders. It wasn't that he had a problem with touching-it was just weird, Pansy being this close to him when he had never, ever thought of her in that way…He squirmed. "All right, fine. I forgive you."

"Good!" She kissed his cheek-making him flinch slightly-and let go. "I have to go. Lots of paperwork to file. Dinner at seven?"

Draco sighed, suppressing a fond smile. "Obviously. Now get out of here. I don't need another visit from your boss."

Pansy disappeared, her laughter following the pop. Draco shook his head to himself. Thank God Pansy was too loyal and too fond of him to ever turn against him-she seemed to know his every weakness without him telling her, and how best to use them against him…

He turned back to his paperwork, but before he could put quill to parchment, there was another loud pop-Tally following right after Pansy, just as before. He didn't look up.

"Your new assignment, sir," she squeaked, putting another folder on his desk. As she disappeared, Draco looked up at the folder.

It was pitch black.

A/N: Hooray for random suspense! Anyway...

P.S.: virtual lollipops for anyone who can guess where I borrowed Daedalus's name and method of escape from =).