"What the⁠⁠⁠— fucking hell! Potter?!"

Harry was awoken by a rather creative list of expletives being screeched in quite a close proximity to him. Obviously he was quite effectively and entirely woken up.

He sat up to see a frantic Draco Malfoy pulling on his clothes from around the room.

"Shite." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't expect this to happen, if it helps?"

"No, Potter ⁠⁠⁠— it bloody well does not! If I had known it was you, I would have stayed well enough away. And where the hell is my shirt?"

"Somewhere near the sofa," Harry muttered, and tried to collect himself. He was trying to appear unaffected even if inside he was quite the opposite. Riling Draco further seemed like a bad idea.

He grabbed his jeans from the night before and pulled them on, shoving his glasses onto his face, and following Draco to the living room. "Look I didn't expect you to stay the night⁠⁠⁠—"

"I didn't intend to! And that's not a god damned excuse! I thought I went out to forget myself and fuck some random bloke who didn't know anything about my past, and then walk away. Now I have to deal with whatever fucking consequences come with having a one night stand in Muggle London with the wizarding world's Golden Boy," He furiously yanked his bootlaces tighter as he ranted.

"I'm not going to tell anyone⁠⁠—"

"Oh right, can't soil that sparkling reputation⁠⁠—" he sneered.

"Hey! I'm trying to be civil. I don't know what you want from me!"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe to have just not gone out in Muggle London in disguise and decided to take a fucking Death Eater home!"

"Former Death Eater," he corrected quietly, "And you were exonerated⁠⁠— No, you know what, that's not what this is about," he continued, raising his voice. "Not everything is still about the fucking war, Draco. It's been over for half a bloody decade! I didn't even realise it was you anyway until you told me your name⁠⁠—"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were we already fucking at that point? No, you had plenty of time to decide that maybe this wasn't the most brilliant idea you've come up with."

"My reasoning was a bit lowered⁠⁠—"

"Don't you fucking lie to me, I was watching you!" Draco shouted. "You hadn't had one fucking drink. I don't know where you went before that, but you weren't even acting tipsy, and you didn't smell like alcohol at all. How dare you try and make me into the bad guy; you pretended you were someone else and decided it was a good idea to hook up with me anyway⁠⁠—"

"Draco, I wasn't trying to make you look like the bad guy⁠⁠—"

"And stop fucking using my given name like we're buddies or you've ever fucking used it before last night, or like you even know jack shit about who I am!" Draco yelled, finally finishing lacing his boots and standing.

"Go fuck yourself, Potter." He slammed the front door behind him, and Harry blinked and let out a slow breath.

Well. That wasn't how he'd planned on his morning going. He glanced at the clock and swore, rushing back to his bedroom.

Fucking hell, he had work in ten minutes. Damn it, he was going to be late. Shite.

He firecalled Ron's office, knowing he'd already be in. Ron always came in early on Fridays so he could leave early.

"Hey mate, what's up?"

Ron greeted him, spitting crumbs from his muffin as he talked.

"I'm going to be a bit late, can you cover for me if anybody asks?"

"Sure mate," Ron grinned. "Hurry up and get here so you can explain yourself."

Harry took the quickest shower of his life, and was presentable and Apparating to the Ministry soon enough.

As soon as he walked into his office, he was confronted with Ron sitting on his desk.

Ron wiggled his eyebrows. "Busy night?"

"How could you tell," Harry asked drily.

"Could just be your general aura," Ron said, trying to sound mysterious. He let it sit for a moment, before showing his hand and continuing. "Or I tried to firecall you last night to see if you wanted to go for drinks for Seamus' birthday, but you and blonde tattoo guy were a bit busy making sure I never touch that couch of yours again."

Harry blushed.

"You should really start locking your Floo, mate," Ron advised for probably the thousandth time.

"Was a little preoccupied," Harry mumbled.

"That good huh?"

"No; a fucking headache, actually," Harry sighed. "Not a good morning, which is why I'm late."

"How do you ruin sex? It's like curry and chips...even when it's bad, it's still good."

"Ron, you've only ever been with 'Mione, and if you hadn't been you'd know that's definitely not true. But that wasn't the problem, that part was fine ⁠— great, actually ⁠— but we fell asleep and he stayed the night..." Harry trailed off.

"Chill mate, that's not that big a deal. I know you don't usually, but that's actually normally how it goes."

"Yeah, except I was in disguise last night, and I of course looked like myself when I woke up."

"Oh, shite, didn't even think of that. Are we going to have to obliviate some poor Muggle?"

"No, worse."

"Oh no, he knows you're Harry Potter."

"Yeah. But that's somehow not even the worst part."

"How? Am I going to have to blackmail someone?"

"I doubt it'll be getting out that we hooked up," Harry muttered.

"So then what's the problem?"

Harry took a deep breath and briefly contemplated whether or not to tell Ron. No, this was Ron, of course he'd tell him.

"Well 'blonde tattoo guy'," Harry held up air quotes, "Was Draco bloody Malfoy."

Ron's jaw dropped.

"You slept with Malfoy?!"

Harry shushed him, and looked quickly at the door to make sure it was completely shut.

"Sorry mate, but you slept with Malfoy?" He asked again, incredulously. And then, "Wait, you slept with Malfoy and liked it?"

Harry shrugged confusedly. "I mean...yeah?"

Ron wrinkled his nose. "He always seemed a bit...pointy."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Merlin's tits, Ron, that is not what this is about."

"Okay, okay sorry. So what happened?"

"What do you think? A lot of yelling and slamming of doors."

"Huh. Well, Harry you really do the stupidest things sometimes. I mean, sorry, but how did you not see that turning out horribly? What even made you think 'Hmm, wow I've run into Malfoy. Guess I'd better shag him, but it's okay because he doesn't know it's me.'"

"Wow, thanks Ron."

"Can't lie to you; it was a dumb decision."

"Yeah, I don't really think I was using my brain a whole lot, Ronald."

"Hey, you're not allowed to 'Ronald' me. Only Hermione's allowed to do that. And mum."

"Yeah, because you just mercifully allow her to. Not because she just does it and you deal with it."

"Whatever, Harold."

"'S not even my name."

Ron stuck his tongue out and stood up. "Well I'm going to go do some work and try very hard not to think about you and the ferret shagging. Ugh, especially now I know it was him I saw through the floo."

"Shut up, Ron," Harry called after Ron as he left the room.

Ugh. Now he had his thoughts to himself and a busy work day ahead of him, and he'd probably be distracted thinking about Draco fucking Malfoy...and probably also fucking Draco Malfoy. But he didn't have to admit that ⁠⁠— even to himself.

Perhaps an hour before Harry was due to leave from work, he looked up from his papers to see that Hermione had kindly let herself into his office.

"Oh, thanks for knocking, Hermione," He said sarcastically.

She just raised an eyebrow.

"So Malfoy," she finally said.

Harry groaned. "Ron is the worst."

"Well he's married to me, and I'm your best friend, so I should hope I'd know about these things."

He covered his face with both hands. "Yeah, what about it?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't know what to think. Other than just 'hmm.'"

"Well great, thank you for your insightful input."

Hermione sighed.

"Honestly it all just sounds like a bloody mess. There's no way this is going to be the end of this. Something's bound to happen, that's just how these things are."

"Great," Harry groaned. "What luck."

"It's not exactly luck Harry, you kind of did it to yourself."

"Yes, thanks. Ron and Draco have both already felt the need to tell me that."

"Draco, hm?"

Harry blew out an aggravated breath. "I fucked him 'Mione, am I supposed to call him by his last name forever?"

Hermione snorted and shrugged. "Do what you like, Harry. You're a big boy. I'm just saying maybe you should talk about this, and I wouldn't expect it to just go away."

"Well all you have to say about it is 'Hmm' and all Ron has to say is that Malfoy looks a bit too pointy to be a good time, so I'm not quite sure who exactly I should be talking to."

Hermione shrugged again, looking tired. "Of course that's all Ron had to say. Well, I don't know Harry, perhaps just try and think it over."

"Trust me, that's all I've been doing."

Hermione nodded. "Alright then, I've got plenty of ministerial bollocks to deal with now."

"Should the Minister for Magic really be swearing in front of her employees?"

She gave a small grin and flipped him two fingers.

Later, when Harry was curled up in bed, he thought back over the conversation and how oddly vague Hermione had been. Looking back, it did rather seem that she had opinions other than 'hmm' that she was just keeping to herself.

He'd have to ask her about that later. For now he'd try to sleep and forget the foolery that was his life.