Chapter Text
"Morning." Harry nodded vaguely to the occupants of the cramped lift as he squeezed himself in between a balding old gentleman and a bony witch with twitchy fingers. He had to roll his shoulders in just to fit properly, and even he groaned when he spotted Ron's head farther down the ministry floor, shouting for Harry to hold the door.
"Hold the door!"
"Don't you dare, Potter." A man in the far back corner of the lift snarled, and Harry swiveled around to find Malfoy glaring at him, holding his briefcase tight against his chest to make space.
"Hold the door!" Ron insisted, panting, as he dragged Hermione after him by the wrist. Harry hesitated, wondering if he could just pretend he didn't hear them, but he caught his friends eye and sighed, stretching his hand out and stopping the grate from closing at the last second. A collective groan went up through the small crowd, and a second later the couple squeezed through the gap in the door--just fast enough that a bony little witch was knocked into Harry, her sharp elbow cracking against his hip. He was only half sure it had been an accident, considering the scowl on her face.
"Sorry." Ron panted, unaware that the wizard behind him was leaning away with an expression of deep dislike. The lift jerked into motion. Ron caught his breath quickly, and said, "You're a lifesaver, Harry. An owl broke a window this morning and 'Mione lodged the glass in her foot."
"Oh." Harry said, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline with concern, "Are you alright?"
"Yes, it was only a small shard. I had to stop Ron from trying to 'accio' it out, and then the window didn't want to repair correctly. You know how glass gets temperamental after it's been broken so many times." Hermione said as she fixed her hair, which had come loose when the lift shuddered through its ascent to the fourth floor. The crowd was only at half capacity now, and Harry was able to breathe a little easier now that he could relax his arms and not risk accidentally fondling someone. It had happened once when he was still in training, and he never quite gotten over the look on Robbards face that had resulted from the accidental smack on the arse. If he reflected on it for too long, he could also remember Ron laughing about it the second they were left alone. He was always mindful to keep his hands up when there was limited space to move, now.
"I'll meet you in the canteen for lunch, won't I?" Hermione asked as they rattled to a stop on her floor. There were only three other wizards left in the lift with them.
"Yeah. We're just on paperwork today." Ron nodded, and bent low to kiss her goodbye. Malfoy made a gagging sound from behind Harry, and he swung his arm back, pretending to adjust the strap on his bag, to let his elbow collide with the blonds sternum loudly. Soon, the gagging turned to coughing, and Hermione shrugged out of the elevator, smiling her goodbye at her husband.
"That's assault, Potter." Malfoy sneered when he recovered, walking out onto their floor in line with Harry and Ron.
"No it isn't." Ron scoffed, looking over the top of Harrys head to see if Kingsley was anywhere near to overhear him, "But if you'd like an example of what that looks like, I'd be glad to show you. Besides, you're just jealous because you haven't got anybody to kiss you goodbye."
"Oh, please, like you know anything about my love life." Malfoy snorted, shaking his head. He raised a pale eyebrow calculatingly, and said, "I can't help feeling bad for Granger, though, considering your notorious morning breath. Have a mint, Weasley."
He pulled a small white chewable mint from his pocket and tossed it carelessly to Ron, who caught it on instinct and glared. It didn't stop him from opening the plastic packaging and popping it into his mouth, though, chewing a bit more forcefully than necessary. He said impatiently, "Alright, so I didn't floss today. You're still a git."
"Comes with the territory." Malfoy shrugged, smirking to himself.
There was a buzz of conversation as they rounded the corner to the auror office, and Harry was surprised to see a group of trainee aurors huddled around the table at the back of the room where they kept the coffee, all four of them leaned together to gossip behind their hands. Before Harry could ask what all the excitement was about, one of the girls looked up and spotted them. She was shorter than the others, and wore her hair in big, impractical curls that often got in the way of her training. Goldie, Harry thought her name was.
She separated from the group of giggling girls and sauntered over to them with an exaggerated swing of her boxy hips to come up right in front of Malfoy, forcing him to stop walking and look at her. She smiled warmly, all teeth and overdrawn red lips, and said brightly, "Good morning, Auror Malfoy."
"Oh." Malfoy said, trying to smile politely while looking for a way to step around her. Harry and Ron stopped as well to watch her fail to snag Malfoy as a date. There was no real guesswork required to figure out what her intentions were; Harry could detect that she had cast a subtle charm to make her chest stand out more than usual. Unfortunately, it had worn off on one side and left her rather disproportioned. Malfoy saw that he was boxed in, and said with a forced nod, "Good morning. Can I do something for you?"
Three others had already been rejected by the picky blond, and it had become a form of entertainment for Harry and Ron to watch Malfoy brush off girl after girl. Secretly, they suspected that he wasn't interested in girls to begin with, but as Malfoy refused to talk to them about it, they could only guess. Besides, Ginny had recently befriended Malfoy, and she threatened to hex them if they didn't leave the subject alone. Apparently he had tattled on them for the time they tried to set up an office betting pool about what people thought Malfoy's sexuality was. That hand't stopped anyone else from betting, of course, since it had taken a life of its own, but they were much more careful not to talk about it around anyone who might disapprove.
"It's nothing, really," Goldie said, with a practiced pout, unaware that the right side of her shirt was now deflating to match the left. Ron snorted beside Harry, but Malfoy looked disinterested in her altogether and was peering over her head at his desk longingly, "It's just that I have this spare ticket to the Quidditch match this afternoon, and I remembered that you like quidditch, and I couldn't find anyone to go with me, so I thought--"
"You thought I would ask my dear friend Pansy to go with you to the game?" Malfoy asked, cutting her off and smiling innocently. Goldie's face froze, and she looked very much like she wanted to protest, but Malfoy soldiered on, all while beaming at her, "You know, that is so thoughtful of you. Pansy really needs some more female friends in her life, and she'll be so flattered you thought to invite her."
"Actually, I--"
Ron was biting his fist to keep from laughing aloud, and Harry chewed the inside of his cheek as Goldie turned crimson. Malfoy's smile widened and he went on as if he hadn't heard her, "You're such a good friend. Pansy'll be by the office at four. She'll probably want to treat you to dinner before the game. Perhaps I'll see you two there?"
"I..." Goldie trailed off, her jaw working as she tried to decide what she should say, but her hope had deflated like the front of her blouse, and she settled for a tight smile and a simple, "Of course. I'm sure...Pansy...will be great company."
She shouldered past them quickly, red still sitting high on her cheeks, and Harry raised an eyebrow as Malfoy smirked and continued down the aisle to his desk, sitting with a sigh, clearly pleased with himself.
"You couldn't have just told her you were going with us?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, though he admired Malfoy's tactics. He was still learning to say no to people himself, and he wished he could put them off as easily as his coworker did. One might think being married made it easier, but Harry found some women didn't quite accept that. At least Ginny thought it was amusing.
"I told Pansy I would find her a ticket to the game, and Londie had an extra. Besides, if she didn't want to take Pansy she should have said so." Malfoy shrugged lazily, and tugged open his top desk drawer to dig out a half-crushed box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bean. He popped one into his mouth and tilted the carton towards Ron, who shrugged and took a handful back to his desk with him. Harry followed, snorting, and declined to take a bean when Malfoy wordlessly offered. The man had an entire drawer full of candy that Ron always pilfered from when they first started working together, but after they had called a truce Malfoy gave up on trying to stop the him from stealing from it, and had generously asked Ron which candy he prefer Malfoy keep stocked up on. Harry took sweets from the drawer too when he worked late, but he did it far less often than anyone else; because as soon as Ron started sharing candy with Malfoy, everyone else did too. Kingsley pretended he didn't know about the communal candy drawer, but still swiped chocolate frogs out when he thought nobody was looking.
"Isn't her name Goldie?" Ron asked with a frown.
"That's it!" Malfoy agreed, snapping his fingers as he nodded. "Where did I get Londie from?"
"No clue, mate." Ron said as he chewed a red bean. When he swallowed, he asked, as if he had only just remembered, "You're patrolling Diagon today, aren't you? You need to be back here by five thirty to get the portkey for the game. Dad will probably drop it off sooner, but it leaves at exactly five forty five, and you'll want to change out of those auror robes; it's supposed to be unbearably hot at the pitch, and I'm not sure even cooling charms will help you."
"Got it covered." Malfoy nodded, and unclasped the top of his uniform to reveal the top of a grey Hollyhead Harpies shirt beneath it. He tucked it away quickly and did up his uniform again properly. Harry had his own change of clothes in a drawer of his desk, and Ron had forgone wearing his auror robes completely--since they were going to be at their desks all day anyway--and was wearing an obnoxiously orange Chudley Cannons shirt, since he knew it annoyed Ginny when he cheered for the other team. Malfoy sighed and said, picking a licorice wand out of his desk to bring along with him, "I'll be back by five to fill out reports. Enjoy desk duty."
"Enjoy telling off teenagers for flying too fast." Harry snarked back, rolling his eyes when Malfoy made a rude hand gesture and turned to walk away. He nearly made it down the aisle of desks before Kingsley came jogging out of his office, calling Malfoy's name.
"Good, I caught you before you left. You're off patrols today; just got an owl from Edna, she needs somebody to help her out behind the counter again. You can still get a good view of the street from there, too, if something arises." Kingsley said, slowing to a stop just in front of Harrys desk.
Rons face lit up and he asked eagerly, "Edna at the ice cream parlor? Malfoy doesn't have to do it! He's got patrols, I'll take it off his hands!"
"I'm beyond capable of watching the street while helping Edna, Weasley. Don't worry, Kingsley, I've got it covered." Malfoy said, and shot a glare past Kingsley's shoulder at Ron, who gave him a dirty look back.
Harry nearly interjected to volunteer as well, but Ron snapped at Malfoy before he could manage, shouting, "No way! You got to go last time, and you didn't bring me back a marshmallow sherbet!"
"I wasn't aware I was inclined to do so."
"She always gives us extra scoops when we fill in, and I bring you your bloody chocolate mint every single time without you even asking!"
At this, Kingsley's dark eyebrows shot into his hairline and he asked in disbelief, "Are you two taking advantage of an old woman's situation in order to get free ice cream?"
"Well it's not like she can sell it." Malfoy scoffed, obviously not sensing that Kingsley was very unamused.
"Yeah, it would go into the bin at the end of the day anyways." Ron agreed,
sinking low in his chair to sulk.
Harry saw Kingsley roll his eyes and, knowing what was coming, tried not to look too happy when he said, "Potter, you'll take it, and you'll do well not to look so smug about it. Malfoy, you stick to your patrols--do NOT antagonize Potter or poor Miss Edna while they are working. Be warned, I will hear about it if you do--and Weasley, you can take over Harry's paperwork."
"Sorry mate." Harry said to Ron as he adjusted his uniform to follow Malfoy, who was also sulking, out to the apparition point.
"Just bring me back some bloody sherbet and we'll be square."
Harry snorted, and managed to cram himself into the lift a moment before Malfoy slammed the grate closed.
Once they landed in the alley, they parted ways, Malfoy acting far less friendly than he had been that morning, which wasn't technically unusual. He tended to get annoyed easily, and nothing upset him more than when he lost a chance to eat ice cream at Edna's--and get paid for it, Harry couldn't help thinking. Malfoy practically always got sent to her shop, and Harry bet it had something to do with the fact that Malfoy had well and fully charmed her into requesting him by name when she owled the auror department to ask for a helping hand.
Harry was almost disappointed when he walked through the little parlor door, bell tinkling merrily overhead, to hear Edna say from behind the chipped blue counter, "Oh, is Draco sick? I brought pictures of my grandson down to show him."
"Sorry Edna, he's stuck on patrols." Harry informed her, and tried his best to sound as if he was sorry about it.
"Oh, I'll just have to show you, then, Harry." She said kindly, and patted his arm as he squeezed behind the counter. He was glad she remembered his name this time; usually she called him Harvey.
Edna was a notoriously kind old woman. Somewhere in her nineties, she wore her silver hair back in a bun, had purple painted fingernails, large-rimmed blue glasses, and wide, exuberant blue eyes. She was a very likable woman, and Harry had been endeared to her within minutes of meeting her the first time he had come to help out. Initially, he had been nervous, having never thought his career as an auror would land him selling ice cream to school children with a frail old woman, but he had quite gotten used to it after assisting her many times, and could see why Malfoy was always disappointed when the job was passed to somebody else.
Luckily, the shop was having a slow day, and Edna seemed more interested in talking to Harry than in actually doing any work. She told him she would show him the pictures of her grandson at the end of their shift, and asked him with a warm smile, "Are you married, Harry, dear?"
"I am; to Ginny Weasley. She plays on the Hollyhead Harpies."
"Oh, isn't that lovely!" Edna cried, smiling kindly, "Are you friends with her brother? He's an auror too; he helped me man the shop just last month. He's a handsome young man. He tells me about his wife all the time; he's very much in love with her."
"Ron?" Harry asked with a grin, "Yeah, he's my best friend since Hogwarts. His wife, too. We went to school together, all four of us. Malfoy, too, but we never got on till after the war."
Harry didn't like to bring up the war, but he was getting better at mentioning it casually, and using the word 'war' more like the word it was meant to be and less like the weight it felt like. Every time he used it, it seemed easier. Edna hummed, then sighed, and told him longingly, "You two seem so happy, married and settled down. I remember being your age and in love. My husband used to kiss my cheek every morning before he went to work, and every night before we went to bed. We never went a day without telling each other we loved them. We were always in love. He was my best friend, you know. We were only married for a year before he died. It's strange, I know, but we had been living together as a couple for sixty seven years before we got married. But he got the Dragon pox, and he told me that he wanted to get married like we promised to when we were young. I think it was mostly so he could see me in a white dress; it was always my color."
"That's lovely." Harry said, because it was. He wondered if his parents would have been so in love at Edna's age. He hoped so.
"I beat the pox, myself, but it left my hands with a little tremor in them. It used to frustrate me so much, but my Erving was so good to me. I wasn't able to paint my nails on my own for twenty years, and so every week he'd sit down on our bed with me and pick a color to paint them. He became quite good at it. I think he was almost sad to stop when my hands started working better again. It's nice, isn't it, having someone that loves you enough to make sure even the trivial things are taken care of, if they're important to you?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed, smiling wistfully as he thought of Ginny, and of Arthur and Molly Weasley, and of Ron and Hermione. He had always been a romantic, and thinking of his wife and the couples made his heart warm and seem to soften in his chest.
The door to the shop opened and the bell tolled gently as Malfoy strolled into the parlor, disrupting the moment of peace. He had his hands in his pockets and a small smirk on his face, which meant he had definitely come to annoy Harry, who frowned and said, "I thought Kingsley told you not to harass me and Edna."
"I'm not harassing you, I came to say hello to a friend." Malfoy scoffed.
"Oh." Harry said, caught off guard. Usually, Malfoy didn't like to call them that; Harry had called them 'friends' once, and Malfoy had pretended to shiver with revulsion, then told him not to spread such slander about the Malfoy name, since it would be disgraceful to associate it with Potters--whether Harry had saved the Wizarding World or not.
Harry was less surprised when Malfoy followed that statement with a nod towards Edna, saying to her, "Hello, love. Did auror Potter behave, today? He didn't try to chat you up, did he? He does have a wife, in case he didn't tell you."
"He was a perfect gentleman." Edna tittered, her face warming as she glanced at him. "What are you popping in for, then? You know I always have a free scoop waiting for my aurors."
"You're the best, Eddy." Malfoy grinned, his white teeth gleaming in the sun that came through the window. Harry frowned at the nickname. "Have you got any Marshmallow Sherbet left? I promised a friend I'd pick some up on my way back to the ministry."
Harrys eyebrows raised at that. Apparently, Malfoy hadn't forgotten Ron's request--unless he had developed a new taste for the flavor. Harry nearly asked, but Edna spoke over him as she began scooping, her smile wide and eyes adoring, "How sweet of you, dear. Is it for that cute boy you talk so much about? It would be so nice for you to make the first move this way. Don't you think so, Harry?"
Harrys head whipped around to Malfoy's, and he didn't move his eyes from Dracos face, which had gone absolutely frozen with horror. His cheeks lit up in a blotchy red color that spread so quickly it looked almost like a rash. "I don't--"
"You remember, don't you, the boy you told me all about last time?" She asked with the same persistent smile, oblivious to Malfoy's panic, and Harry rose his eyebrows at Malfoy, who was ignoring him as well as he could while being completely crimson in embarrassment.
"That's the one." He finally said weakly, forcing a polite smile, to keep her from saying more. Harry couldn't stop staring for the life of him.
"Does Harry know him?" Edna asked, no doubt trying to make him feel included, turning her round, wrinkled face to him, "Maybe he can be of help."
"Oh, definitely." Harry smirked, delightedly aware that Draco was completely mortified. He gave Malfoy a knowing look, and teased, "I'm always willing to help Malfoy out."
"Oh, you're an absolute doll, Harry, dear. This crush he's got--I think he would do well to have another boy to talk to. He's always so shy when the girls come in here to flirt with him, and you should see his face when that charming young man from Gringotts comes to chat with him."
"I am not shy!"
"Don't be so aggressive, dear, Harry won't tell anyone." Edna consoled Malfoy with a frown. Apparently, Malfoy didn't snap at her often.
"Not a word to a soul." Harry promised, positively loving the situation he had found himself in. He wasn't surprised, really, that Malfoy was gay--or maybe he was bi? Edna hadn't said for certain, and Malfoy had dated Pansy at Hogwarts.
"Do you know who it is, then, Harry? He talks about him all the time when he's sent in to help me out. Maybe you should help him learn to talk to boys? He's always asking me how to go about it and--"
Malfoy pretended to look at his watch and cleared his throat loudly to interrupt her, announcing firmly, "Well, sorry to cut this short, but we're running late to get back to work."
Harry smirked wider and said in protest, trying to look innocent, "No we're not."
"Yes, we are. Come along Potter, Edna doesn't have time to gossip with the likes of you all day."
Harry barely managed to grab the ice creams she held out to them before Malfoy had grabbed his sleeve and dragged him out the door and onto the sidewalk. Malfoy wasn't slowing even marginally, and the arm he had seized was the one Harrys ice cream was attached to, which made it relatively difficult to get a bite off of it. Malfoy had hauled him halfway down the street before Harry asked, feeling less brave now that Malfoy didn't have Edna to behave in front of, "You told her about your crush, then?"
Malfoy's jaw visibly tightened and he dropped Harrys arm as though it was something disgusting he didn't want to dirty his hands on. "I don't have a--"
"Im not judging--well, not much--but, I mean, of all people to confide in, Malfoy, I'm not sure chatty Edna Jenkins was the smartest choice, and--"
Malfoy turned without warning, and slammed him violently against the wall of the building they were standing beside, looking angry and a little scared when he snarled, "You tell one person I'm gay and I swear to Merlin I will-"
Harry was so surprised he nearly lost his grip on Ron's ice cream, and the look in Malfoy's eyes shocked him just enough that he didn't even feel the pain of where his head had hit the bricks behind him. He hadn't seen him look so terrified since the fiendfyre incident back during the war. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, which would have probably looked more natural is he hadn't been double-fisting ice cream. "Relax! Ron and I already know--err, guessed, anyways. Half the department has taken bets on it, actually, but since you haven't actually come out and said whether you are or--"
"I don't care about what bets there are! You think I don't know about them already? Potter, Jenkins and Weasley are the only people I've told and if you think you're going to be a big mouth about it--"
"Wait a minute, you told Ron?!"
"Don't be daft." Draco scoffed, then looked somewhat sheepish when he admitted, "I told Ginny."
"My wife?!" Harry gasped, feeling utterly betrayed. His head felt very off center, and he could feel the ice cream beginning to melt down the fingers of his left hand. "Why didn't she tell me?!"
"Because she respects peoples privacy, Potter, that's why. She doesn't tell me your personal details, after all."
"Why did you tell her?"
"Because she's my friend, Pothead, unlike you. You're just a shortsighted nuisance with bad hair and annoyingly good morals." Draco snapped, his glare hardening.
Harry glared back, and said sharply, anger beginning to burn in the center of his chest, "You realize that you're doing a terrible job of buying my silence, don't you?"
It wasn't the nicest thing to say, Harry knew, but it startled Malfoy enough that the angry look in his face deflated and he released Harry's shoulders quickly, taking a step away from him to stare as if he had been slapped, which Harry could have kicked himself for. He had meant it to be sarcastic, but it clearly came across much more threatening than he intended and he sighed, trying to wrap his mind around the situation, "Malfoy, I was kidding, I'm--"
"You're not going to say anything to anyone...are you?" Malfoy interrupted, sounding smaller than Harry had ever heard him, which didn't do anything the take the guilt out of Harrys chest at all. He was looking at Harry an uncomfortable frown, and if Harry looked close enough he thought he saw a suspicious shine in Malfoy's eyes that made his chest tighten in alarm. He barely noticed the dull splat of his ice cream rolling off the cone and clapping onto the pavement. He wasn't sure what to say to ease the anxiety in the anxious aurors face, which clearly didn't make Draco feel better at all, as he moved to fill the silence with a soft, desperate, "Potter, please? I haven't even told my parents yet, you can't--"
Harry, needing to lighten the mood somehow, said very quickly, but not without meaning, "I'll keep my mouth shut, but you owe me a new ice cream."
Malfoy froze, looking startled, "What? You're going to let me buy you off with ice cream? Are you seven, Potter?"
"Well, it fell off the cone when you were manhandling me." Harry defended, though he was glad to have surprised Malfoy enough to jar him back into being somewhat like his usual poncy, judging self.
"I didn't see you asking me to stop." Malfoy said with a raised eyebrow, clearly beginning to feel more secure in Harry's promise to keep his sexuality a secret. He had a habit of sliding into his sarcastic, biting demeanor like it was a second skin. It had always unnerved Harry how he could do it so quickly.
"Yeah, well, just so you know, I have fifteen Galleons in the pot saying you're gay, so, really, the longer I keep quiet about this, the more money I'll make off of it. Imagine how much ice cream I can buy with that."
Malfoy smirked, as if he was trying to keep from laughing out loud in relief, and said, sounding remarkably like Hermione, "Harry James Potter, you don't deserve any ice cream."
Harry laughed loudly, and Malfoy snatched Ron's ice cream out of his hand, walking quickly towards their apparation point.
Things almost felt normal when they walked back into the office, though Harry felt like something major had passed between himself and Malfoy, and he still felt slightly off about it. It didn't help that Malfoy seemed quieter than normal, as if he was guarding his words and actions, like Harry might out him at the slightest upset. It wasn't the greatest feeling to have, knowing that Malfoy, someone who was almost considered a friend, was that afraid of him. It had only been fifteen minutes that Harry had known Malfoy was gay, and the entire dynamic of their relationship had already severely changed. It seemed only the two of them knew it, though, and Malfoy was able to paste on a rubber smile when he rounded Ron's desk and dropped the dish of ice dream at his elbow, telling him when he looked up in delight, "Just so you know, it was me that thought to bring you some, not Potter."
"Yes, because Malfoy is just so thoughtful." Harry snorted, and rolled his eyes. "How many minutes do we have before the portkey activates?"
"You made it back with fifteen--oi! Hands off, ferret!" Ron complained, as Draco swiped the spoon out of Rons hand and stole a bite out of his treat. He grimaced at the taste and handed it back quickly.
"That is absolutely revolting, Weasel."
"I didn't ask you to try it." Ron huffed, and moved the ice cream to the other end of his desk as Malfoy chuckled and began to unclasp his uniform, shrugging it over his head and draping it over the back of his chair. It shook his hair out of place to do it, but he moved it back with his hand. The tee shirt he was wearing beneath it was dark gray with a Hollyhead Harpies logo stamped on the front in a minimalist style. Harry was sure he had the same one buried deep in his closet. Harry had never actually seen Malfoy wear a tee shirt before, and it only felt a little bit odd to see him in one now. Malfoy had told them once during a case that he didn't like to wear short sleeves after Ron made a comment about it. He had said something about having scars from the war that he hated, which was probably why he and Ron both tried so hard to avoid looking at his arms. He had said it bothered him when people stared; that if he felt eyes on them it made him want to be sick. Harry understood that feeling. He used to feel the same way when people looked at his forehead after the war; watched them idolize the scar so many had died for. He still sometimes wore his fringe over his forehead during off days to avoid the feeling. It was Ron that made Malfoy feel better though; he had rolled up his own sleeve, perhaps feeling guilty for making the remark that inspired the confession, and exposed the shiny white and pink scars he had gotten from their battle at the ministry of magic. Malfoy hadn't been inclined to admit where his scars came from, and refused to show them, not that anyone asked him to, but had been fairly interested in how Ron had gotten his, raising his eyebrows at the idea of tentacled brains attaching to Ron's skin.
Eventually, Ron sighed and had told him, "Lets make a deal. We'll go to a Quidditch match some time, and you wear a tee shirt. We go all the time, I know, but it'll be so busy nobody will even notice you. I'll wear one too, if it helps. Nobody will say anything about your scars, and then maybe you'll see it's not so bad after all."
Malfoy had reluctantly agreed to think about it, probably so they didn't have to talk about it anymore, and Ron had forced them to every humid Quidditch game he could find after that, trying to help Malfoy drum up a way to face his insecurities. It was Ron that had gotten them all to become friends, though in a very loose sense of the word, perhaps, since they still antagonized each other at every turn. They bonded through Quidditch and mutual friends, and sometimes their pasts, but bickered about everything else. They understood the boundaries to the teasing, though, and so neither of them said a word about Malfoy's scars, other than when Ron muttered, "Only been waiting three years, it's about bloody time."
Harry had five minutes to change into a tee shirt and jeans, and had to take an extra moment to scrub off the dried ice cream that had dribbled sticky trails down his hand. A younger auror saw him scrubbing at it in the sink, and it took Harry a moment to place why his expression was so disgusted. He looked down at his hands and said quickly, alarmed, "Oh, that's not--it's ice cream!"
The boy nodded, clearly unconvinced, and then hurried out of the washrooms as Harry muttered something rude about Malfoy under his breath. He barely made it back to Rons desk in time to catch the portkey, which was a paperweight, and suddenly all three of them felt the room shift dramatically, the floor collapsing out from under their feet as they made their way to the Quidditch stadium.