_____<br/><br/>As though through pure magic, Draco’s mere presence had summoned wine from house reserves Harry hadn’t known existed. Feeling otherwise certain he had accounted for every square foot of the house, Harry had felt like laughing when Kreacher had served it, but hadn’t otherwise complained, not when a braised brisket had followed suit.<br/>A few hours later, Harry was well fed and buzzed, a pleasant but rare sensation when spending an evening at Grimmauld.<br/>Though he had reconsidered before, Harry had throughout the meal undone the buttons of his waist coat, lazily around his shoulders. Harry himself leaned forward on his elbows, engaged in conversation as his hand thoughtlessly turned the stem of his empty glass.<br/>“Well, he could if you applied for one,” Harry countered as Draco had undermined the gesture of Paul offering him a<span style="font-style: italic">symbolic</span>job rather than a real one. “The DMLE’s not really supposed to headhunt staff, not when being a branch of government, anyway.”