"Harry," Hermione said, "just out of curiosity, did you even consider using a silencing charm or Muffliato?"

"Er-"

Pansy took a deep breath and leaned back slightly, splaying her hands across the wood of Hermione’s desk, in a clear attempt to steel herself for the upcoming conversation, and said, “If you’re going to ask Draco to dinner then you need to wear something that doesn’t make you look homeless. And I don’t mean for the date, you can’t be dressed like this when you ask him either.”

“Pansy,” Hermione said. Harry was surprised to hear fondness in her voice as she continued, “You shouldn’t put so much stock into clothing. I know it’s your passion, but Harry,” she glanced at Harry then, seemingly taking in his outfit for the first time, and grimaced.

“Oh come on,” Harry said, “I just threw on something easy. It’s not like I dress like this all the time. You’ve seen how I dress for business meetings, Hermione.”

Looking back to Pansy with a smile playing on her lips, Hermione said, “Sorry I interrupted. You’re right, of course. However, Harry probably doesn’t even own anything that Malfoy would approve of.” She lifted her eyebrows and blinked slowly.

“No.” Pansy said.

“Why not?"

"Because all of the reasons! No."

"Having Harry wear your line would be a great marketing opportunity.”

“Wait, what?” Harry said, but both women ignored him.

“Absolutely not. He’s a mess and I don’t have time-”

Hermione just barely touched Pansy’s pinky finger on her right hand. It was so quick that Harry wouldn’t have seen it if he hadn’t been staring at the two of them. At the contact, Pansy stopped talking. Hermione smirked, saying, “Remember that thing I asked Ron to do for you on Saturday night?”

Pansy blushed. Pansy Parkinson blushed. Harry’s brows furrowed at the sight, and he tried to remember if he’d ever seen a Slytherin blush.

She blushed because of Hermione, he thought, confused.

"What about the thing Ron asked you to do for me on Tuesday night? I want that as well," Pansy said.

Hermione looked smug, the same way she did when a theory she had was proven right, "For that, you will have to get him at least three outfits."

Harry's brain did a quick recount of the last 30 minutes in the office. The comments, the clothing, the little smiles. When the pieces fell into place his jaw dropped. “Holy shit!” he cried, “You. What? You can’t- Mione! You are not- what? And- and Ron?” He tried to stop talking. Tried to let her say something but the amusement in her eyes when she turned her gaze on him made Harry panic even further.

“Shut up, Potter. We're negotiating,” Pansy said, her eyes trained on Hermione. “Granger,” she said, waiting for Hermione to look back at her, “when would this compensation happen?”

“I was rather hoping for tonight since our earlier dealings were interrupted.”

The lustful look Pansy gave Hermione made Harry's cheeks heat, and he wondered if he was that obvious when he looked at Malfoy. She turned back to him and said, "All right, Chosen One, stop by my studio after this and my assistant will have three outfits ready. How are you planning to do approach him and where have you thought of taking him for dinner?"

"I-" Harry replied, "I'm not sure. I could follow him to a club or something? Then try to talk to get him alone and talk to him?" He was quiet for a moment, thinking of his options, then added, "Or I could hire him."

"Follow him," she said slowly, "to a club.

Harry shrugged, "Yeah, I still have my invisibility cloak, so-"

"Stop," Pansy said, pinching the bridge of her nose and generally looking as though Harry was a drain on her sanity. "Your current plan is to stalk him and then corner him."

"Technically that's not his current plan," Hermione cut in, far too pleased with herself, "it's a repeat of his plan during 6th year."

Traitor, Harry thought, glaring at her.

"OK Potter, listen up," Pansy said. At which point Pansy and Hermione loaded Harry with advice. He tries to compile a mental list in his brain as they talk. He's pretty sure that half of what they say he doesn't remember and hopes that his subconscious picks it up.

DO

-Compliment him.

-Ask him on a date

-Take him somewhere nice.

-Be adventurous.

-Text him.

-Make jokes.

-Flirt.

-Let him see you checking him out.

-Tactfully avoid discussing the war or his parents.

-Discuss music or movies.

DO NOT

-Stalk.

-Offer to pay for sex.

-Corner him.

-Hide.

-Stare uncomfortably at his dark mark or any other war scars, Potter. (this was said in an unusually dangerous tone, so Harry made sure to mentally file that one under important.)

After that, Pansy spends nearly an hour on the phone with her assistant regarding Harry's clothes. Then she gives him a lecture on the benefits of being a walking billboard for her company, and forbids Harry from getting any come on her clothes. The idea that Pansy thinks his chances are high enough to issue that warning makes his stomach erupt into butterflies. She slips a piece of paper into his hands with the address for her warehouse on one side, and Draco's mobile number on the other.

"Will he be upset you gave this to me?" Harry asked.

"I think he would have been, if that was all that happened. For now I'm sure he's just horrified that your living next door. He probably won't even think that you got the mobile number anyone. He'll just assume you told your phone that you're Harry Potter and the phone gave it to you, because that's how you live your life."

Harry stared at her for a moment and then looked at Hermione, who was behind her. "Is it worth it then? Dating a mouthy spoiled Slytherin? Or you know, whatever you and Ron call what you're doing with this one."

Hermione wrapped her arms around Pansy, pulling the front of her own body flush against the Slytherin, and placing her chin on Pansy's shoulder to look over at him."It's more than worth it Harry. Ron thinks it's the best thing that could have happened to him."

****

After being roughly handled for an hour by Theo Nott, who didn't even say hello, Harry shrank down the rest of his outfits to fit in one bag and headed towards the door. Before walking out he caught sight of his reflection, the outfit wasn't that different than his normal, denims a t-shirt, and a jacket. It was the cut of them, the way they fit his body like a second skin, showed off his muscle, the on purpose messiness, and the black eyeliner Theo had spelled on. The only part of him that looked the same was his hair, which Theo had simply given up on, after shoving a bottle of Sleekeazy's into Harry's hand and telling him to deal with it himself. Looking at his reflection, Harry could see the appeal of Pansy's clothes. They certainly drew the eye to his best assets.

At home, Harry put the new outfits in his closet, and fed Orion. He ran a hand along the fabric of his invisibility cloak, debating about what the girls had said. Luckily, he was saved from himself when he heard Malfoy's voice coming through the wall.

"I'm sure I'll see her tonight. I will talk to her and get it taken care of," he said. "I'm leaving in a few minutes."

Harry rushed to put his shoes back on and check his reflection again, pleased that it was a Muggle mirror that didn't offer any feedback. The one at Pansy's studio had told him he was certainly better off than when he'd walked in, though, he looked a bit 'sauced up' after changing. Harry stepped into the hallway, shut the door, and tried to arrange himself against the doorframe in a similar stance as the guys from the pictures he'd seen at the studio. It took several minutes for Malfoy's door to open, each one feeling like an hour to Harry, but finally he did.

Malfoy stilled when he saw Harry, then he turned back to his apartment and locked the door. He had the boots on again, but no jacket. Instead, the sleeves of his button-down were rolled up so that the flex of his forearms were on display, along with the Dark mark. Harry dutifully did not look at it.

"Hey, Malfoy. Do you want to grab dinner?" Harry asked. He was pleased to hear the greeting come out casually, just like he'd practiced.

Malfoy's eyes drifted over Harry's outfit slowly. He glanced over at the brass numbers, 394, that were drilled into his door frame, then looked down at his own hand, fingers splayed.

"OK," Malfoy said, after looking back at Harry, "I'm not dreaming." He walked towards him and said, "Have you been obliviated or something?"

"Er," Harry replied.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, and Harry tried not to be charmed by it, "What are you doing out here Potter?"

"I'm not- I haven't been obliviated."

"Then why are you asking me to dinner as though I didn't fight on the losing side of the war, or torture you for 7 years?"

"I- you- it wasn't torture. You were just-" Harry said. Then he sighed and tried again, "OK. The war is long over and you have obviously changed since you're living in a muggle flat. And I wasn't exactly nice to you in school either."

Malfoy lifted a skeptical eyebrow and let his eyes fall over Harry's outfit again. "So, you're asking me to dinner so we can, what exactly, become friends?"

Harry fought to keep eye contact, feeling his heart pound against his ribcage, as he said, "Maybe we could just see what happens?"

Malfoy tilted his head at the words, as though they couldn't possibly make sense, not replying. Eventually, he turned towards the stairs muttering, "I've walked into a different dimension." Then, louder, "Come on Potter, let's get this train wreck started."

Harry felt a smile bloom on his own lips, and was thankful Malfoy wasn't looking at him as he followed down the stairs.