Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): bitching boys
Author's Notes: Thanks heaps to my wonderful boyfriend, who was nice enough to beta this first part for me. I promised him I will find someone else to do the 'gay porn parts', which I did. This story is actually finished and fully beta'd, so I'll update regularly.
Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated. Prologue

The Ministry's alarm was loud, like a screeching hippogryph descending from the heavens in endless repetition and Harry Potter had to make a conscious effort not to cover his ears with his hands. That would've made him look rather undignified, especially for an Auror, and while he normally didn't care much for the impression he made on people – being who he was - his current company forced him to alter his usual behavior. He did not want to look undignified in front of Draco Malfoy.

"Merlin, can't they find a normal way to signal an emergency? One that does not shrivel my ear drums? Honestly, this is supposed to be the top wizarding institute in Britain and this is the best they can come up with?" Draco Malfoy shot an angry look at Harry, as if he personally was to blame for their current predicament. Then again, what else was new.

Harry decided to ignore Malfoy's latest attempt at riling him up, as he didn't give a flying fig about the ponce's ear drums anyway, and focused on the ruckus outside the Ministry's War Room instead.

Hurried footsteps sounded on the other side of the large wooden door, mixed with the scraping of chairs and the sound of doors slamming against the wall as they were opened too forceful; the inhabitants of the offices careless in their haste to get out. Harry surmised it was clear to everyone in the Ministry that this was not a drill.

"How long is this going to take anyway? I have business to attend to," Malfoy drawled behind his back and the mere sound of that voice made Harry's teeth clench in irritation. Or perhaps it was the utter self-centeredness of the remark, but it really didn't matter, as the outcome was the same. Harry turned around to face the thorn in his side he couldn't seem to get rid of. Malfoy's aloof posture drove his annoyance to higher levels as he sat there on the big round table between two finely ornamented oak chairs with his legs crossed, one elbow poking in his knee so the attached arm and hand could support his pointy chin as his head rested there in a picture of perfect boredom.

"Merlin's balls, Malfoy, there's a spell on that door! Now I'm not sure what kind exactly, but I can tell you it's not friendly. There's no telling what might happen if one of us walks through there. And since we have no fireplace here and this is a no-apparating zone, we'll just have to wait until the Aurors find another way of communicating with us." Harry realized he was lecturing in the tone one would reserve for a four year old child, but he honest to God didn't care. Malfoy deserved it for his too good for you attitude and narcissistic behavior.

"Oh fun, considering the average competence of the Auror squad, that could take forever. And of course, you had to send the entire Ministry into a full alert by sending out a code red, which means everybody has to go to their designated evacuation site and identify themselves and then the Minister will have to proclaim the Ministry safe enough for the Aurors to enter, blah, blah, blah. We will be here for hours," Malfoy whined, uncrossing his legs and sliding down so his feet touched the ground, while pulling a hand through his hair.

"Yes, likely, so how about you stop bitching and make it a bit more bearable on all of us!" Harry rolled his eyes at his trapee and walked up to the door facing the both of them. It was a solid wooden barrier between the War room and the rest of the Ministry, but since Harry had arrived here this morning, it had become far more than that. It was now a harmful obstacle between them and the rest of the world and a shock to the wizarding world, no doubt, that someone could place a spell smack bang in the middle of the Auror's headquarters in the Ministry of Magic. A powerful spell. Harry could practically feel the magic humming as he got closer, the small hairs on his hands and forearms rising from the static electricity the spell was creating. He drew his wand from the holder inside his Auror robes and started performing some basic detection spells.

Funny they were still called robes; after the defeat of Voldemort, the whole Ministry had seen a shockingly complete overhaul, aiming at streamlining it to work in better tandem with the Muggle governing bodies and trying to eliminate old fashioned things that slowed down a wizard in the modern world of today. It had only served to intensify the bureaucracy, of course, but there were good sides too. Like the new Auror robes, which were more of a uniform really; smart pants and jacket – shirt not provided – with all kinds of nifty magical gizmos. And non-magical ones, like the leather wand holder that came with arm and hip or breast strap. Harry had chosen the breast strap as addition to the standard arm strap, because this way he could more or less hide his wand when necessary.

"Potter, are you daft or just completely mental?" the voice at Harry's back attacked again. The Auror gritted his teeth in annoyance, but did an otherwise remarkable job of ignoring Malfoy. "You're going to get the both of us blown up, if you continue waving your wand around like an attention depraved first year."

"We cannot disarm the spell if we don't know what it is, Malfoy. What do you propose we do?" Harry honestly felt he earned a year's worth of character points for his self restrained. If Malfoy ventured to push it any further, he really couldn't be held responsible for hexing the git into next week, he would be fully and utterly justified.

"I propose we wait for your team of losers to show up and conduct what they so laughingly call an 'investigation'. At least it will get them blown up in the process if they screw it up, not me," Malfoy stated as he leaned back on his palms and re-crossed his legs, at the ankles this time. Harry fervently wished for the other man in the room to spontaneously combust, but no such luck.

"Just shut it, Malfoy, or I swear to God I will put a silencing charm on you!" As it turned out, Malfoy responded well to the combination of threats and a wand pointed under his chin. Or at the very least it quieted him. Harry counted his blessings and went back to work on the door.

Long, silent minutes went by as Harry cast detecting spell after detecting spell and Malfoy sat back and watched, his lips a thin line of disapproval, a pinkish colored stripe in perfectly light marble. But it curled into an almost satisfied smile when Harry got up with a huff of frustration.

"Nothing?" Malfoy asked, and his voice sounded almost hopeful, the –ing just a bit too high pitched for a neutral question. Harry heard this, because he had become rather apt in analyzing Malfoy's voice over the past few years of working with him. Well, working with him wasn't exactly the way to put it. It was more like he forced Malfoy to do a potion analyses for his cases when needed and the analysts unwillingness to share his findings – even though the Ministry had made it clear to him he was to cooperate with the Aurors at all times – had trained Harry in listening to the pitch and tremor of Malfoy's voice as much as to his words – possibly more so.

"Lots of things, but none I understand," he answered grimly, eyebrows drawn together in a dark frown that covered bright green eyes. He was too busy worrying over the fact that he had no idea what kind of spell they were dealing with, to get pissed off about Malfoy's apparent glee at his failure.

"Well, imagine that." But of course, Malfoy could push it too far.

"Now listen here, you self centered prat, at least I'm trying to get us out of this mess, I don't see you doing anything!" Harry whirled on him and then vaguely wondered why he couldn't come up with a better return than this. He should be used to bickering with Malfoy by now and he usually came up with far better retorts than this one. He quickly concluded it must be because he had more important things to think about, like that spell he couldn't read.

"And risk getting blown up? Of course not," Malfoy reasoned, pushing himself off the table and stretching languorously. Harry resisted the urge to pull out his own hair in frustration at Malfoy's infuriating attitude to all this, drew up a chair and straddled it. He folded his arms over the back rest, planted his chin upon them and regarded the door darkly, trying to figure out exactly what it was he had felt minutes ago.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry almost fell of his chair when his cell phone went off. He tried to regain his balance and fish the instrument – which was playing the Weird Sisters' latest hit with increasing volume – out of his pocket at the same time. The result was less than dignified, but eventually he managed to send a slightly high pitched greeting into the horn.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione's voice sounded in his ear.

"'Mione, hey. Yes, we're fine. Is the Ministry evacuated yet? I'd really like to get out of this room as soon as possible," Harry told his friend, while pacing up and down in front of the door.

"Not enjoying Malfoy in close quarters?" Hermione's voice sounded highly amused and Harry grimaced.

"Not at all. What's the situation?" he wanted to know.

"The evac is complete, but you and Malfoy were missing. A locater spell revealed both of you in the War Room, which left us with no magical way to contact you. But Harry, why didn't you call?" Hermione asked and Harry had the decency to flush a rather deep shade of red.

"I uhm, didn't think of it," he admitted sheepishly and grimaced once again when his friend sighed.

"Oh, Harry… Well, never mind all that now. Tell me what happened," Hermione requested. And Harry, happy to escape one of his best friends' infamous scoldings, hurried to explain.

"You know the case I've been working on, the attack on that Muggle family? I left a potion for analysis with Malfoy and he sent me a note this morning that he found something and I should meet him in the War Room." Harry held up his hand for silence as Malfoy started protesting in the background and rushed through the rest of the explanation, forcing the words out as fast as possible, trying to get the whole story out, before Malfoy interrupted him again. "When I arrived, Malfoy was already there. I felt something as I walked through the door, so I checked it and I found there's a very powerful spell on it – a very unfriendly powerful spell, so I sent up a code red as per protocol and waited for the evac and the Aurors to contact me."

"What, Malfoy! I'm on the phone here!" Harry demanded as he put a hand on the microphone and turned on the only other person in the room. His annoyance dissipated somewhat when he noticed Malfoy was even paler than usual and the git looked worried.

"I never sent you a note," he said sharply, the very tone of his voice urging Harry to believe him. "I received a note from you; it said you had questions about the potion I was analysing and to meet you here."

Harry frowned, he didn't like where this was going at all.

"Harry?" Hermione's worried voice sounded through the speaker. "What's going on?"

"Malfoy claims he never sent me a note, but received one from me which I never sent. So, either he's lying, or someone set a trap," he quickly summarized for Hermione. He shot a quick glance at Malfoy. The potions analyst had started pacing up and down in front of the round table he had inhabited so cockily only half an hour earlier and he looked decidedly pissed off with Harry considering the possibility of him lying. Harry turned back to the door to hide a satisfactory smile.

"Harry, do you think he's lying?" Hermione asked cautiously. The Auror considered that for a moment. Malfoy hated him, he hated the way he was forced to work for the Ministry ever since the defeat of Voldemort, but he wasn't stupid. Even if he wanted something to happen to him, Malfoy wouldn't have locked himself in the room as well. Besides, the git seemed as worried about the situation as he was.

"It doesn't matter, 'Mione. I have to consider all options, you know that," he answered instead of telling Hermione that. It wasn't an answer to her question, but it wasn't a lie either. It was the truth – this was an attack on the Ministry and possibly his and/or Malfoy's life, that meant this would be an investigation as soon as Kingsley Shacklebolt learned of this and a good Auror listened to the evidence, not to his own conclusions or suspicions. Harry got that Hermione understood all too well he was avoiding the question when she sighed. He should've known better than to try and fool her.

"Alright, Harry. I'll get Kingsley up to date on the situation right away. I'll let you know if there's any news, ok? And Harry? Please be careful?"

Harry promised to do just that, said his goodbye and dropped his phone back into the pocket of his trousers. He didn't have the chance to take his hand back out, before Malfoy started.

"So, I'm lying?" It was an accusation wrapped in a question, thrown at him by a nervous and possibly paranoid Malfoy, who was no longer pacing. He'd stopped right in front of Harry and stood there facing him, arms crossed tightly across his chest, pointy chin aimed slightly upward to give the impression that he was taller. Which – Harry felt – was rather unnecessary, since he was the taller of the two of them to begin with, albeit not by much.

"I have to keep all options open, Malfoy and right now, you lying is an option," Harry answered calmly, his experience with angry suspects overruling his dislike for Malfoy at the moment.

"That so? Then what about you? You could be lying just as well!" There was a righteousness to Malfoy's anger that Harry recognized as a rather strong indication that Malfoy was, in fact, telling the truth. But that was still irrelevant. Harry knew full well that Malfoy was inclined to be suspicious of him at the best of times, so he understood that encouraging that behavior in the one person he was trapped in the room with was probably not the brightest idea. But he honestly felt he had no choice.

"That's an option you should keep open."