the sweetest con [d.m]

fourteen

"Are you listening to me?"

Draco blinks, his office materialising around him at once, dragging him from sinful thoughts of nails digging into his back and the sound of little whimpers and gasps. "I am."

Vera narrows her eyes at him. "No, you're not."

"He isn't," Deiji agrees from the chair in the corner with a sweet smile in Draco's direction when he glares at her. "He's been distracted all day, Vera. Don't take it personally."

Vera frowns and snaps her fingers at him. "Focus, Malfoy. We cannot screw this up."

"I'm aware." He shakes his head, trying to banish Mavi from his brain. "But this is the third time we're going over this."

"It's important."

"So is my lunch." He glances at the clock, rising to his feet. "Should we meet back here at two?"

"Malfoy, I'm not done—" Vera stands with him but he angles past her, grabbing his jacket off the hanger.

"Great. See you then." He steps out of his office, letting the door shut on Vera's curses at him.

———

Mavi sits at her bench, a book propped open in her lap as she waits for the cauldron to boil.

It's been a long day already — and it's only one forty in the afternoon. She'd had to rush home this morning because Nezryn had sent her a Patronus — and she'd arrived to find her father standing by his bed, his frail form supported by Nezryn.

He'd gotten up on his own, Nezryn had told Mavi, eyes bright. Something in the Draughts she was giving him was working.

But her father had passed out soon after — and hadn't woken for several hours, appearing to be in a deep sleep. His body seems to have crashed after even that little bit of effort.

"Are you going to keep lurking in the doorway?" Mavi turns the page without looking up. "Or are you going to come in?"

Draco chuckles from where he leans against the doorframe, barely visible from her position on the bench. "I was wondering how long it would take you to notice."

"I noticed as soon as you showed up." She looks up, finding him still in Auror uniform. "Day out in the field?"

He nods, arms folded across his chest. Thrills sweep through her at the way his eyes drag over her, the way his uniform hugs every muscle of his lean body. "Patrolling London. No sign of Aumutage though."

Mavi sighs, getting to her feet. "At this point, I don't think we'll ever catch him."

"We will." He pushes off the doorway and steps into the room. Her heart pounds as he closes the door behind him. "How much time do you have?"

She glances at the cauldron. "Fifteen minutes."

He's already rounding the bench, eyes dark and she places her book down, her stomach tight. "You're decreasing my productivity, Sultan."

"Oh?" She quirks an eyebrow as she turns, backing herself up against the table behind her. "Do tell."

Draco stops in front of her and leans down, tipping her chin up with his knuckle. "Haven't been able to stop thinking about you."