By Friday morning, Harry thought he may have well and truly lost his mind. The last two nights he’d listened to the Wallbanger-

aka Draco fucking Malfoy!!! Him mind interjected in a complete panic

-bang out three more clients with his wonder cock. Two nights. 3 clients.

Wednesday night had been really difficult, as it was the first night Harry knowingly listened to Malfoy with another man. He wanted to be angry, as that was a familiar Malfoy induced reaction, but instead he was just a turned on jealous wreck. Thursday night had been nearly unbearable. Instead of only one person getting plowed into the mattress, it was a couple. Or at least Harry assumed they were a couple from the phrases “thank you, my love” and “this is the best anniversary present you’ve ever given me” coming through the wall during the afterglow.

So yes, by Friday morning he was only holding onto the idea of sanity, just enough to realize that he needed real help, he needed real advice. After a shower he threw on his comfiest denims and a plain black t-shirt. He went to the kitchen and rifled through his pantry until he found an unopened box of chocolates he'd purchased at Flourish and Blotts, each chocolate was shaped like a tiny book with words scrolled across the cover and, as you ate them, the words were charmed to appear on parchment, allowing you to read a short story produced by the chocolates. With those in hand, he stepped into his floo, calling out, “Ministry of Magic.”

He approached the first obstacle, Hermione’s assistant, Lisa Turpin. When Harry first met her they had gotten off on the wrong foot. Apparently, she had been in Ravenclaw at Hogwarts during the same years as Harry, and she’d been a bit insulted that he didn’t recognize her. Since then, she’d warmed up to him a bit, but only when he brought a gift.

Lisa smiled knowingly at the chocolates when Harry placed them on the desk. "Thank you, Mr. Potter," she said, sliding the box over and tucking them protectively inside the top drawer of her desk.

"You're welcome Ms. Turpin," he said.

She looked him over with a critical eye, "Are you alright? You look a little," she trailed off, seeming unsure of how to finish the sentence.

"Tired? Worn thin?" Harry offered with a self-deprecating smile. "I am. Any chance you could ring the Undersecretary and see if she can help me?"

Lisa grimaced, "She's fairly busy today, but I will ask, since you look as though you need it. And, of course, since you brought my favorite chocolates." she pointed her wand at a small speaker on her desk and watched it expectantly. Hermione had insisted, during her first month at the Ministry, that certain aspects of the office be upgraded. Magically charmed intercoms had been in the top ten changes she'd pushed through.

"Yes, Lisa?" Hermione's voice came through the speaker, and Harry could tell she was smiling.

"Mr. Potter is here to see you."

"Oh, I'm in the middle of som-"

Harry cut her off, "Please 'Mione, I really need to talk to you. I brought tea," he said.

"Thank you Harry, for the tea, it's just that I've got-"

Come on. You always make time for me. This is important, he thought.

Confused, Harry cut in again, "It's about Draco Malfoy," he said.

During the silence that followed, Harry noticed that Lisa carefully kept her eyes on the intercom instead of looking at him. He briefly felt bad about doing this to her, knowing the lack of information would likely send her into a downward spiral. Curiosity killed the Ravenclaw and all that. He didn't feel bad for long though, it was this or go completely barmy.

"OK Harry, the door's open," Hermione said, and Harry hurried towards her office.

Once inside, Harry realized why Hermione had hesitated. Pansy Parkinson was perched on the corner of Hermione's desk, dressed as though she was pulled out of a wank fantasy for someone who preferred the 'business professional' look on a girl. Each item of clothing was tailored to show her hourglass shape. The slit on her skirt rode high up her left thigh. The top was, technically, a proper button down Oxford, except for the neko cut out that put her curvy breasts on display. Had he seen her a few days earlier, Harry probably would have had a meltdown over the girl who offered him up to Voldemort. Luckily - horrifyingly?- even this was not enough to shake his crush on Draco Malfoy. Though Harry's mind registered the girl's undeniable attraction, his magic was dismissive and his cock showed no interest.

Hermione came around the desk to give Harry a welcoming hug, and he noted that, even in her actually professional outfit, her honest beauty was an equal match to Parkinson's. Surprisingly, her Oxford button up had two buttons undone at the top. He made a mental note not to notice that he could see some lace from her bra at this angle.

Odd. She never has her shirt unbuttoned, he thought.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said, her hands gripped his biceps with a friendly squeeze. "You look knackered."

"I'm exhausted. I'm also sorry for interrupting?" he let the statement become more of a question at the end, hoping she wouldn't send him away even though she was clearly busy.

Hermione glanced back at the woman sitting atop her desk and smiled, "I'm sure Pansy is delighted at your timing. Especially considering the topic."

Pansy's eyes sparkled at that, "Indeed, I am happy to be here. Though I was quite enjoying my time with Granger, I'm always looking for ways to help The Chosen One."

Harry managed a laugh to go along with his eye roll. She wasn't lying, oddly enough, she often tried to help him. Years ago, Parkinson had offered to fund the building of the Burrow in order to make amends for her actions during school. He'd declined, of course, but did agree to a cup of tea and a long conversation. They hadn't become friends after that, but they were more than acquaintances.

"Well I could probably use the help from anyone willing," Harry said. Then, think of Neville and Blaise, he added, "Though I'm starting to worry about the trend of finding my Gryffindor friends in suspiciously intimate settings with Slytherins."

Hermione blushed. Pansy grinned. Harry nearly choked on his own tongue.

"Merlin! I was kidding!" he pulled back from Hermione, "You know Ron is an auror right? He knows where to hide bodies."

"He knows quite a lot about what to do with bodies," Pansy said, her grin turning into a sly smile.

"Oh stop it," Hermione said through an embarrassed laugh as she went back to her desk. "Nothing is going on behind Ron's back, Harry."

"That's true," Pansy said, "he knows everything."

Hermione gave her a disapproving look. Harry was familiar with that look, he'd received it plenty of times. "Pansy," Hermione said, "is here to help Ron and me pick an outfit from her collection for the gala in July. You know the one? It's held every year on your birthday."

Harry looked carefully at her and decided that any secrets she held he was far from equipped to uncover. But, he knew Hermione loved Ron, and he knew that Pansy had created the fashion line, PEP, so the story checked out, at least on the surface. When he looked at Pansy he found her to be pointedly ignoring him, using a hand mirror to refresh her lipstick.

Pansy snapped the mirror shut, "Tell us about Draco," she said. At the request, all thoughts that didn't involve Malfoy abruptly abandoned Harry's mind.

He sat himself in the chair across from Hermione's desk and recounted the tale of the Wallbanger. He left out the details of the last two nights, choosing instead to end with, "and that's why I'm here. Because if you don't help me, I'll likely end up in the Janus Thickey Ward."

"Draco does look delicious in that leather jacket," Pansy said wistfully. "It's from my first collection, and I'll admit that he was my main source of inspiration for that particular line." Harry felt a flash of jealousy spark through him at the words.

He must have made a sound because Pansy looked down at him, having significant height from her position on the desk, and said, "Oh don't look like a kicked puppy. You have nothing to be jealous over. I'm sure many a wank has been blessed with thoughts of Draco Malfoy. A clothing line is far less scandalous."

Harry could feel his cheeks heat and decided to change the subject from wanking to anything else. "Do either of you have any advice?"

Hermione took a deep breath and Harry was briefly terrified that she seemed to be bracing herself for whatever she was about to say. "Harry," she started, "have you thought about asking him to dinner?"

Harry and Pansy both turned to stare at her. Not to be discouraged, Hermione said, "Let's just talk about it. I think it could help. How would you go about seducing him?"

"Wait," Pansy held up a hand to stop Harry from replying. "Am I to understand that we are taking this seriously? That the Savior wants to date Draco?" she asked Hermione.

"Yes."

"And you're ok with that?"

"Well," Hermione said, "I think Harry is an adult and should make his own choices. I also think that Harry has been gone on Draco for years," she looked at Harry, who was starting to speak up to defend himself, "Don't bother arguing, Ron and I remember 6th year," then looked back to Pansy. "Besides, Draco came to see me a little over a year ago and we had a much needed chat. So yes, I'm ok with it."

"You saw Malfoy?" Harry asked, "Why didn't you say anything?"

Hermione laughed, "Because I'm not an idiot, Harry. I knew it would completely distract you. Your obsession with Draco isn't exactly unknown to me."

Pansy's eyebrows went up at that, "Obsession?"

"I'm not obsessed. I've never been obsessed. He was up to something, Hermione!" Harry said, feeling a bit desperate to defend himself.

Hermione smiled sweetly, "You're absolutely right, Harry. Draco was up to something." She looked up at Pansy, "Let's do an experiment, Pansy can you tell me what the name Draco means?" she asked, her voice dripping with false innocence.

"It means dragon," she said easily.

Hermione looked at Harry, "Care to add anything to that Harry?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, "No," he said, feeling petulant.

Hermione smiled, and he knew she was closing in on a mental victory lap at being proven right. "Go on, tell me what his name means. I'll even give you something, I knew it meant dragon, I also know it's a constellation."

Harry sighed, and berated himself for ever getting drunk around Hermione. She always remembered every drunken monologue he gave. "The Draco constellation is in the North, it never sets, and is made up of not just stars but also planets. The myth behind it is about a dragon named Ladon who guarded golden apples."

Pansy blinked, "Why do you know all of that?"

"I just- I looked it up. I can't be curious? Besides, I only told Hermione about it because I thought it was amusing."

"Amusing?"

"Because Malfoy likes apples. Green apples, not golden, obviously."

She stared at him for a moment, as though he were a fascinating display at a museum, then turned to Hermione and said, "Draco was just as bad, maybe worse."

Hermione smiled, "Yes, well that's not really a secret either. I think it's time they shifted from rivalry to," she paused, brows furrowing, and turned to Harry. "Whatever this is going to become."