Part 2 of 4

Author's Notes:This was written for cassie_black12 for the 2009 hp_yule_balls. Many, many thanks to my gorgeous beta raisinous_fiend for putting up with my bad grammar, impossible tardiness and panic attacks. And also for being brutally honest and not letting me get away with anything. All remaining inconsistencies are mine.

Harry trudged back to Auror Headquarters, annoyed and cold. He had been sent out to check out a possible sighting of a wanted wizard on the run. He should have known it would have been nothing more than a waste of time. As it was he had just spent almost two hours wading through mud for nothing. He couldn't wait to get back to his office and have a nice warm cup of tea. Preferably accompanied by the nice cinnamon biscuits someone considerate left in the tea room this morning.

As he reached Auror Headquarters he heard the sounds of mild commotion. Knowing his luck, it would be Malfoy again. Taking a deep breath, he Disillusioned himself and slowly crept into the main room. He was right; it was Malfoy and his posse of elves. Holding his breath, he slowly and carefully crept through the room towards the tea-room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the elves and a couple of fellow Aurors - damn their training - spot him, but thankfully no one said anything and Malfoy remained blissfully unaware.

Once in the relative safety of the tea-room, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and quickly busied himself with making a cup of tea. Once the tea was ready, he let himself collapse into a chair and sip his beverage. Slowly, slowly he could feel the aggravation and tiredness slipping away, only to be replaced by acute awareness of Malfoy's presence in the next room and curiosity as to what he was up to.

When he felt up to it, he made his way towards the door, keeping his Disillusionment Charm up. Leaning against the doorjamb, he was able to observe Malfoy, and perhaps admire him a little bit, mind you, just a very little bit.

Malfoy stood in the middle of the room, straight-backed, sharp chin proudly pointing upwards, dressed in mind-boggling robes, unbelievably tight and orange with a trim of what looked like green holly leaves. He looked ridiculous, and yet Harry's unmanageable libido was urging him to go over and grab him, and then do unmentionable things to him.

Harry squelched his ridiculous urges, reminding himself what an utter and impossible prat Malfoy was. After the short inner scolding, Harry managed to tear his eyes away from the orange figure in the centre of the room and see what the elves were up to. Harry almost choked on his own spit when he saw.

Malfoy was expertly directing the elves to turn the Auror Headquarters into a giant over-decorated showroom. There were red, green, gold, white and silver spangles and ribbons absolutely everywhere. Huge wreaths of some sort of greenery hung on all the walls, and every door-frame was literally covered in ivy and holly, and was that mistletoe? It looked absolutely atrocious, and to make matters worse Malfoy was currently instructing the elves to position giant garish gold candles in strategically annoying spots.

After surveying the damage, Harry decided he would have to talk to Malfoy. Be polite, he instructed himself. Don't be confrontational. Keep cool, and for Merlin's sake don't jump the bloody wanker! He dropped the Disillusionment Charm and carefully walked over, unconsciously mimicking the way he had seen Charlie Weasley approach the more irritable dragons in the reserve.

He timed his steps to coincide with the final positioning of the last candle. Malfoy motioned the elves to stand by and proudly looked over his creation, just as Harry took the last step to reach his side. Keep cool, Harry reminded himself. And don't say anything stupid.

"Well this certainly looks... like a lot of work," Harry finally managed to force out in a pleasant, he hoped, tone.

The corners of Malfoy's mouth curled up, making Harry irrationally proud of himself, but he didn't turn round. His eyes were still roaming over the large room. Admiring his work or looking for faults? Harry wondered.

"I have made it my mission this year to make sure that all Ministry employees receive the full Yule experience," Malfoy answered haughtily.

Be polite, Harry told himself. And try to beat him at his own game. He racked his brain unsuccessfully for something suggestive to say.

"And you plan on doing it all by yourself?" Harry finally said. "Don't you have any assistants?"

Malfoy gestured towards the elves. "All the assistants a determined pure-blood needs."

Harry wondered just what Hermione thought of that. Don't be confrontational, he reminded himself just in time.

"So... you personally see to all the departments?" Harry asked, feeling just the slightest bit impressed.

Malfoy finally waved the elves away and turned round to look at Harry. "Why yes, I do," he said. "If you want anything done properly, you should do it yourself," he added before leaning conspiratorially closer to Harry. "My department is very hands on. Call it the personal touch, if you will." Malfoy had dropped his voice to a throaty whisper, and as if conditioned Harry's body reacted as it always did.

Even though he could feel his temperature rising and his cock slowly hardening - why did it have to have such a hair-trigger? - Harry managed to force himself to breathe evenly. Keep cool. Don't let him get to you.

Harry cocked his head to the side and pouted just a little. "I thought that you personally took care of only the Aurors." He tried his best to sound slightly disappointed and very flirty. He looked at Malfoy from under his lashes and cringed inwardly, afraid that he was getting it all wrong and making a fool of himself.

Harry was pleased to see Malfoy start and look surprised. Malfoy quickly wiped the surprise from his face and smiled, pleased. Harry's temperature rose even higher, and he noticed that his heart-beat had gone up too.

"Alas," Malfoy answered. "I give all the departments the same treatment. But if you need any personal assistance in anything, my door is always open for you." Malfoy's eyes were twinkling almost as distractingly as his pink lips were carefully enunciating every suggestive word. "You can have a private session any time you want, Auror." Malfoy's mouth was practically at Harry's ear and his hot whisper made shivers run down Harry's spine.

Harry's cock was now throbbing uncomfortably. I wonder if Malfoy likes to talk dirty in the bedroom, Harry's irrepressible libido thought. The last remaining logical part of his brain squashed the thought. Keep cool. Don't let him win again.

Using all his impressive will-power to keep his voice from wavering, Harry managed to answer sounding relatively nonchalant. "I might take you up on it."

Malfoy's eyes twinkled even more and he smiled. "You should," he said before nodding and striding out of Auror Headquarters.

Once Malfoy had left, Harry let himself relax and blow out a deep breath. That hadn't gone too bad. Even though he still had a long way to go to make Malfoy lose his cool, he had managed to keep his own, even if he did forget to say something about the horrid decorations. Smiling in satisfaction, Harry took the shortest route to the loo.

The next day Malfoy visited again.

Harry was in his cubicle, writing reports when someone knocked on his open door. He lifted his head to find Malfoy standing there. He was wearing the same ridiculous robes as the day before ("They're not that bad," Ron had said when Harry had told him about them. Harry begged to disagree), and his hands were full.

Harry remembered his manners just in time. "Please come in," he said.

Malfoy strode into the small room, holding a basket in one hand and a potted plant in the other. "Good day to you too, Potter," he said.

He deposited his burden on Harry's desk and looked around the cubicle, his lip curling in distaste. Harry supposed that he could be a bit neater.

"I have sent the elves round the Ministry with baskets and plants," Malfoy said. "But after what you said yesterday, I thought that my favourite Auror deserved a more personal service." Malfoy lifted a suggestive blond eyebrow and leaned one hip against Harry's desk.

Harry had a very brief fantasy of pushing Malfoy down onto the desk and having his wicked way with him, before pulling himself together.

"I'm your favourite Auror?" he said with genuine astonishment. "Not Ron? Not Fairweather?"

Malfoy laughed, a short sharp sound that Harry wouldn't mind hearing more often. "I like Weasley well enough, and Fairweather is a lovely lady, despite being an Auror. But no, you are my favourite Auror. Haven't I made it obvious?" Malfoy smiled and looked at Harry, his bright grey eyes intense and so very, very suggestive.

Harry squirmed in his chair and swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. "I'm flattered," he managed to mumble.

Malfoy leaned closer, his eyes intent and unreadable, before he suddenly moved back and stood up straight. "I have brought you a poinsettia," he said, pointing to the plant with the strange big red flowers. "It's a traditional Yule flower. I also brought you a basket of clove-spiked apples and oranges. Don't try to eat them, they're only for decoration."

Harry picked up an orange and smelled it. "It smells nice," he said.

Malfoy smiled as he arranged the poinsettia to his satisfaction on Harry's desk. "I'm glad you like them." He then looked around Harry's cubicle. "You don't want that, do you?" he asked, pointing to an old empty plant pot in the corner. Without waiting for an answer, he whipped his wand out and intoned a spell under his breath. Harry watched with interest as Malfoy screwed his face up with concentration and the old pot twisted and split and lengthened until it had turned into a small squat table.

"That was a nice piece of Transfiguration," Harry said, not bothering to keep how impressed he was out of his voice.

Malfoy grinned at him and preened. "Thank you," he said. "Outstanding on my Transfiguration N.E.W.T."

Harry smiled back, oddly charmed.

Malfoy stepped closer to Harry's desk and leaned over to take the orange that Harry was still holding out of his hands. Malfoy's long smooth fingers lingered over Harry's hand, leaving burning trails of sensation behind. He stared into Harry's eyes, unblinking. "Don't mangle the fruit," he said, his voice slightly breathless as he dropped the orange into the basket without breaking eye contact.

The minutes stretched out as Harry felt himself fall into Malfoy's hot gaze. "Sorry," he said finally, clearing his throat. "I'll be more careful in the future." Harry's voice broke the spell and Malfoy blinked before jerkily nodding his head.

"Good," he said in a low voice.

Malfoy picked up the basket and turned to the newly Transfigured table. He bent down to place it on the table, made a small annoyed noise and then spent long minutes twisting the basket in various angles and arranging the fruit inside.

Harry barely saw what he was doing. As Malfoy bent over, his ridiculously orange, ridiculously tight robes stretched taunt, revealing a perfectly round, perfectly proportioned arse. Harry's eyes glazed over as he remembered how that arse had looked naked and wet under the street-lights. Get up and touch it, his over-eager and disgustingly pushy libido urged. Go and find out if it feels as delicious as it looks. Harry gripped the edge of his desk tightly, his knuckles going white, to stop himself from doing anything crazy, like listen to the insidious urgings of his over-sexed subconscious.

Not a moment too soon, Malfoy finished his fiddling around and stood up. "There," he said. "Now you're all sorted."

Am I? Harry thought slightly hysterically, wishing Malfoy would hurry up and leave so he could get down to the serious and urgent business of wanking.

Malfoy looked around Harry's cubicle once more and moved to stand next to the door. For a moment he struck Harry as looking strangely awkward and searching for words. Harry quickly dismissed the ridiculous thought.

"Well," Malfoy finally said. "My work here is done. Come and visit me some time, don't be a stranger." And with one last glance at Harry, Malfoy left.

Harry slowly counted to twenty before spelling his door shut and unbuttoning his trousers.

Monday morning dawned bright and chilly. After a relaxing and pleasant weekend, Harry Flooed into the Ministry feeling strangely optimistic. He whistled a little off-tune ditty as he strolled through the Atrium, then lost his stride for a minute as his senses were assaulted by the full horror of Malfoy's Yule decorations in such a large space. After the holidays it'll all come down, he reassured himself. There was no need to tell Malfoy his honest opinion of his decorating skills. It would only put a damper on the new turn things had taken between them. Harry felt fairly optimistic after the way he had managed to stand his own the last two times he had talked to Malfoy. It was certainly an improvement over the previous months he had spent responding with tongue-tied incredulity to Malfoy's outrageous flirting.

Harry looked around the Auror Headquarters with dismay, eyeing the large golden candelabras with particular distaste. Just a little over a week, he reminded himself. Then it would all come down. A nice cup of tea and a cinnamon bun - if there were any - would make it all better.

As he sat in his cubicle sipping his tea, he wondered if Malfoy would be around today with another Yule tradition to promote.

He didn't have to wait long to find out. A couple of hours later Malfoy swanned in, wearing the shiny emerald green two-piece robe Harry remembered from the week before. When had he started cataloguing Malfoy's clothes? Harry couldn't help but feel slightly disgusted with himself. This robe was a far more tasteful colour than the orange one, but unfortunately wasn't quite as form-fitting. You can't have everything, Harry sighed and then chastised himself for thinking such ridiculous things about Malfoy.

Malfoy was busy pinning a brand new announcement to his notice-board. "We've been seeing a lot of you lately," Harry said once he had reached the other man.

Malfoy turned round to look at Harry. "And you will be seeing a lot more of me over the next few days," he answered with a smirk. He winked at Harry and lowered his voice to the throaty tones Harry - and his cock - were slowly getting addicted to. "If you want, we could easily arrange for you to see even more of me." Malfoy licked his lips suggestively, and Harry's breath caught as his eyes fell to avidly follow the movement of the slick tongue. "All you have to do is say the word," Malfoy finished, his sinfully suggestive voice unerringly pulling reactions out of certain parts of Harry's anatomy.

For a moment Harry looked at the shiny pink mouth, slightly open with a hint of sharp white teeth and silky tongue showing and then at the feverishly intent stormy grey eyes. It would be so easy to say the word, wouldn't it? To drag Malfoy off somewhere private, and soundproof, to reveal the gorgeous body he knew was hiding under the green robes, to finally touch his smooth firm skin and taste his pretty, cruel mouth, and to see how loud he could make him scream.

Lost in a red haze of lust and the oh so tempting fantasy, Harry almost did say that yes, he wanted it, wanted it very much. Fortunately a loud laugh broke through the haze and let Harry's rational mind assert itself once more. Stupid, stupid, he chastised himself. He had almost let Malfoy lure him into his trap. Of course Malfoy was only pretending; but Merlin was he a persuasive actor! He didn't really want Harry, he couldn't really want him. All he wanted to do was make a fool of Harry, most probably to get his own back for the way he had embarrassed himself in front of Harry in July.

Harry was determined not to fall for it. He shrugged in response to Malfoy's come-on. A fleeting look of disappointment washed over the pointy features and Harry wondered for a moment if he was wrong. "So what's the new notice about?" he asked it an overly cheerful voice.

Malfoy schooled his features into his usual haughty mask and glanced at the announcement. "The new notice, yes," he said in a brisk professional voice. Malfoy turned towards the room and the curious milling Aurors, cleared his throat loudly and theatrically, and began talking in what Harry called his 'public announcement' voice.

"Esteemed Aurors and fellow Ministry employees, the Office for the Preservation and Promotion of Wizarding Tradition and Pure-blood Culture has finally managed to get the go-ahead to organise a traditional Yule celebration." Murmurs of interest broke out amongst the gathered. "It will be held on the evening and night of Thursday the twentieth, since Yule Day - Friday the twenty-first - has been officially recognised as a holiday." Cheers filled the room and Malfoy smiled at the crowd graciously. "There will be wassailing and dancing," Malfoy started to explain.

"Will there be food and drink?" Ron's loud voice interrupted, and Harry couldn't help but smile at his friend.

Malfoy looked towards Ron and smiled too. "Yes," he said. "There will be plenty to eat and drink. Enough even to satisfy even you, Weasley." The gathered Aurors laughed and Ron grinned, unperturbed.

"I'll keep you to it," he said.

"Beside the requisite food and drink, singing and dancing, we are also having a pageant. A small pageant to showcase some of the older and more theatrical Yule traditions." Malfoy looked around his audience with an encouraging smile. "We are looking for volunteers for the pageant. Don't be shy. It will be fun." He motioned towards the notice. "All the details are in my announcement." Malfoy gave another of his sleek winning smiles. "I hope to be seeing some of you soon," he told the crowd. Malfoy then turned to Harry. "I certainly hope to be seeing you soon. Good day, Auror Potter."

Once more Harry found himself watching Malfoy go. "I don't blame you for watching," a voice next to Harry said. "It's certainly a nice view."

Harry turned to look at Fairweather and shrugged. "So when are you going to do something about it?" she asked him with a leer. "Entertaining as it is watching you two flirt with each other, don't you think it's time to get past the foreplay and shag the poor bloke?"

Harry goggled at Fairweather. What was she talking about?

Fairweather gave an aggravated sigh. "Come on now. Blondie is obviously gagging for it, and don't think I haven't noticed the way you make a bee-line for the loos after every one of his visits. So do us all a favour, will you, and get on with it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry told her stiffly and walked away even more stiffly to the toilets. "Men!" he heard her grumble behind him.

Harry spent the whole rest of the day, and the whole evening at home, and half the night in bed, mulling over what Fairweather had said. Was she just having him on, or could Malfoy possibly be really interested in him? The latter thought led to a number of diverting dreams once he finally fell asleep.

Harry waited until it was almost lunch time next day, in the hope that Malfoy would pay another visit to the Auror Headquarters. Unfortunately Malfoy didn't show, so for once Harry decided to seek him out.

Harry hadn't visited the Department for the Advocation of Integration and the Development of Equality (AIDE) since Malfoy had begun working there. Hermione was predictably surprised and pleased to see him. She grasped his hand in a firm grip and chattered ninety-to-the-dozen as she eagerly showed him all the changes and newcomers. Harry was suitably impressed; hers was one of the most up-and-coming departments of the new Ministry. And it also contained the most Yule decorations per square foot.

In the end he had to break free. "Hermione," he said, interrupting her monologue. "This is brilliant, it really is. You're all doing a great job here. But I had a question for Malfoy. Is he here?"

Hermione looked at him too shrewdly for his liking. "Do you have a question about Yule?" she asked. "It's very interesting, isn't it? I have some books at home if you'd like." She caught Harry's look and laughed. "Or you could just talk to Draco. He knows all about it."

Hermione ushered him down a narrow corridor to the last door. It was small door, but newly painted. Ivy, holly and mistletoe predictably covered the frame and a large green wreath hung under a neat brass plaque. Office for the Preservation and Promotion of Wizarding Tradition and Pure-blood Culture was written on it with an old-fashioned curling script. Trust Malfoy to get his own customised plaque for his door!

Harry knocked on the door and waited until he heard Malfoy tell him to 'Enter'. He opened the door and peeked in, expecting to see a small cramped room. The room was smallish but had obviously been enlarged magically. Most striking, however, excepting the lavish Yule decorations and the absolutely huge poinsettia that sat in the corner next to the window, was the furniture.

The walls were freshly papered with a tasteful cream floral design and the floor was covered by such a beautiful Persian rug that Harry was almost afraid to step on it. In the centre of the room sat a big, heavy, antique oak desk, behind which Malfoy was sitting, engrossed in his work. On the wall behind the desk there was a large bookcase that looked to be a set with the desk, filled to the brim with books and folders. On the wall opposite the window sat another old piece of furniture that looked to be a cross between a side table and a bar. A cut-glass decanter of amber liquid, possibly brandy or Firewhisky, was sitting on top of it, surrounded by similar cut-glass glasses.

Malfoy was still riveted by what he was reading and had obviously forgotten his guest. Harry slammed the door shut behind him and watched with amusement as Malfoy jumped, startled, and dropped the parchment he was holding. As soon as he spotted Harry, a wide warm smile lit his face.

"Auror Potter, what a pleasure to see you. Please take a seat." He motioned towards one of a set of chairs that looked like more antiques.

"Don't mind if I do." Harry looked around the room once more, and noticed for the first time the three framed wizarding photographs on Malfoy's desk. He could make out his parents in one, a blond baby that must be his son in the second, and the third looked very much like young Teddy Lupin. "If this is standard issue Ministry furniture, I think the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been seriously had."

Malfoy laughed warmly. Harry was surprised to see him so evidently pleased to see him, and thought once again that maybe there was a grain of truth to what Fairweather had said. "Standard issue Ministry furniture is sub-standard, uncomfortable and unbelievably tacky," Malfoy explained, a look of distaste evident on his face. "No person of taste and breeding should be obliged to endure it. This all..." Malfoy swept his hand in large gesture to encompass the room and its furniture, "...is mine. I 'borrowed' it from the Manor. Mother won't even notice it's gone. It's not as if the study in the west wing has been used in the last fifty years."

"It's beautiful," Harry told him, and meant it. He spent a moment feeling jealous of Malfoy's comfortable and elegant office.

Malfoy grinned once more and his eyes twinkled. "Thank you," he said, trying to sound humble and failing miserably. Harry made a note of how obviously fond the other man was of compliments. "So what brings you here?" Malfoy asked.

Harry panicked momentarily, feeling caught out. He hadn't actually thought that far. All he had wanted was to see Malfoy to try and ascertain if the other man might possibly be sincerely interested in Harry. Bluff, he told himself. If you play it cool, he won't realise a thing.

Harry shrugged. "I came by to see Hermione and I thought I might as well pay you a visit too, and see what the infamous Office for the Preservation and Promotion of Wizarding Tradition and Pure-blood Culture looks like from the inside."

Malfoy looked slightly disappointed, but unsurprisingly he didn't look fazed for long. He steepled his hands in front of him and leaned slightly forward. A lock of light blond hair escaped from his perfectly combed and styled coiffure to swing forward. The tip almost touched his pointy chin and Harry found his attention irresistibly drawn. His fingers itched to touch the errant hair, smooth it back and test its feel.

"I thought you had reconsidered my offer," Malfoy said in his smooth intimate voice, and Harry discreetly adjusted himself in his chair.

"Which offer?" he asked, his mind filling with delicious images of the things he could be doing with Malfoy instead of talking.

"Any offer. All offers," Malfoy answered, his voice going deeper and throatier and his eyes practically blazing. "Anything you want. I can help you with anything you want. I told you that I prefer a hands-on approach and I am very flexible."

Harry gripped the hands of his chair painfully tight in an effort to stop himself from leaping over the impressive desk and launching himself on the other man. He's obviously gagging for it, Fairweather's assertion echoed in his brain. And Merlin did he wish it were true! It was starting to look as if it might be, but he wasn't sure yet. A small, but strong, cowardly part of himself wanted to be certain that it was true before he made a move and debauched the blond as thoroughly as he deserved.

Harry managed to give a sardonic smirk. "Are you now?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Oh, yes," Malfoy breathed. Harry could make out the slight tremble of his thin pale hands. "Please feel free to see for yourself anytime you want."

Harry felt his heart-rate speed up. Not yet, he reminded himself. Wait until you're sure first. "I just might at that," he managed to force out.

Malfoy let out a deep breath and lifted a faintly shaking hand to smooth back his hair. He then got up and walked briskly towards the side table. "Do you want a drink?" he asked Harry as he sloshed a big measure of the amber liquid into a glass.

"No, thanks," Harry said. "I'm still on duty. Actually I should get going." He got up and made his way to the door as Malfoy took a large sip from his drink. "I'll be seeing you soon."

"You can count on that," Malfoy answered, and Harry couldn't help but grin as he let himself out. He waved at a distracted Hermione as he swiftly strode out the department. He wondered where the nearest toilets might be.