Title: Changes: A Harry Potter Crossover
Author: Emma
Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy
Rating: Pure as freshly fallen snow
Disclaimer: I'm even more terrified of JK's solicitors than I am of Auntie Beeb's. No profit at all. Ever.
Summary: I don't think I have one!
Author’s Note: Don't ask. It just showed up and there it is
The handsome young man smiled happily at the girl behind the counter, making her heart flutter. “So many options! Which one is your favorite?”
“Ah...” She giggled then pointed at one of the tubs. “Butter pecan.”
“Never tried that one before.” he gave it serious consideration – he did that with every decision, from the mundane to the earthshaking – and then nodded. “Let's live dangerously. Two scoops on a sugar cone, Mairi.”
He watched as she scooped the ice cream. Mairi was a pretty girl, and, to judge by the book she put down when he walked into the store, quite bright, but she was also very shy and a little insecure. When she handed over the cone, he made sure to touch her fingers and send a little confidence her way, just enough that the next time a boy spoke to her she wouldn't turn away mumbling. Little things like that were important too.
He paid for the ice cream, hitched up his backpack, and stepped out into the Plas. Spring was edging into summer; in a few minutes, the locals would stampede out of the office buildings to eat lunch on the steps, and the tour buses would make their first scheduled stop on the way to Caerleon or Shrewsbury. Nobody was likely to pay any attention to one more person basking in the unexpected warmth.
He meandered towards the bay, taking tiny little bites of ice cream and letting them melt on his tongue. Mairi had excellent taste in ice creams. He tilted his head to the sun, feeling the warmth on his face like a caress. It was still a new experience, being able to walk in the sun eating ice cream without looking over his shoulder. He wondered if the man he was looking for felt the same.
There he was. Coming out of the tiny Tourist office, as impeccable as ever. Formal wear of all sorts had always suited him. The body, lanky and strong, rather than muscular, was still the same. Everything else, though... everything else was totally different. Dark hair a little unruly, fewer angles to the cheeks and jaws. And the eyes. Brilliant blue and filled with serenity and self-knowledge.
He waited until the other man was leaning against the railings before he spoke. “Hello, Draco.”
There was a brief hesitancy before Draco Malfoy turned around to look at him. “Hello, Harry. And these days, it's Ianto. Ianto Jones.”
“I know.” Suddenly, he didn't know what else to say, so he blurted out the first thing he was thinking. “You look good in a Muggle suit.”
Draco – Ianto – laughed, and it was a carefree sound Harry had never thought to hear from a Malfoy. “That's what Jack says. You're not so bad yourself. Who's doing your shopping? Ginny?”
“Sometimes. She teaches at Beauxbatons these days, so I get care packages from Paris. Hermione, mostly.”
“Ginny Weasley is a teacher. Merlin preserve us.” But it's said with amusement rather than malice, and Harry realized this was a whole other person. “And Hermione? Taken over the Ministry yet?”
“Well on her way. I give her five more years.” They grinned at each other. “Are the changes permanent?”
“Changes?” Draco caught on when Harry pointed at his own face. “Oh. Yes. Cost me most of my paternal grandmother's inheritance, but this is who I am now.”
“It suits you,” Harry said candidly.
“Thanks. So, Harry, why are you here? There aren't any outstanding warrants that I know of.”
“Merlin, no! Someone in the wizarding community reported seeing a dragon flying about late at night, so they sent me to investigate. Tracked her back here one night and guess who I saw waiting for her.”
Draco looked a little startled. “You could tell it was me?”
“One of the little presents Voldemort left me. I can see magic... auras, I guess it's the best way to put it.” Harry shrugged. “Don't talk about it much, people tend to freak out. So, the dragon...”
“Not a dragon. Pteranodon. Came through the Rift... you know about the Rift?”
“They had to tell me. Turns out the Ministry is just as eager to keep it a secret from us as the Muggle government is to keep it from them, but Hermione pitched a Hermione-sized tantrum about it.” His voice rose in a dead-on imitation of his best friend. “Withholding essential information from your own agents, dammit, Kingsley, do you know the kind of scandal it will cause if Harry gets killed because you didn't warn him?”
Draco laughed until he had tears in his eyes. “That's Hermione, all right.”
“So Kingsley sat me down and told me about the Rift, and aliens, and... Torchwood.” Harry made a face. “Someday I'm going to come back for a long weekend and you're going to tell me what made you jump from the frying pan into the fire, yeah?”
“Deal. So when are you going back to report?”
“Oh, I already did. I came back to give you a couple of things.” Harry reached one-handed into his backpack and took out a long, narrow case. “Your wand. I know you don't use magic at all, but it might come in handy. And this.”
Draco took the offered card and looked at it. “Gringotts offers Visa cards these days?”
“Everyone moves with the times, I guess. Hermione says you make a good salary, but, again, you might need to tap the Malfoy galleons some day. I hope you don't mind, but I audited the account.”
“They must have relaxed their rules since my father's days. Goblins are all about secrecy.”
“Your signature is very distinctive and I'm a damn good forger.” He gave Draco a conspiratorial grin. “It's all there. By the way, I put some things from Grimauld Place that should have gone to your mother into the vault, too.”
“Thank you.” Draco seemed a bit dazed. “Don't you live there?”
“Yeah, but we're remodeling the place. Neville doesn't like the gloom and doom decor.”
Draco's eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Neville Longbottom? Well.”
Harry blushed a little. “No cracks, Malfoy. It's not as if you have room to talk. Anyway. I'll keep it touch from time to time, if that's all right?”
“Of course. And the name is...”
“Ianto Jones. I know. Bye, Ianto. Maybe I'll bring Neville next time.”
“Maybe I'll ask Jack to join us. Finish your ice cream before it melts.”
They laughed in perfect understanding. Harry turned away with a wave and headed back towards the armadillo and the fountain. There was Floo access in one of the shops beyond the Plas, and he could be home in time for dinner.
edited to resolve some verb tense issues
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