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The Portable Swamp only took a few minutes to completely cover the floor. This was more than enough time for Draco to start having second thoughts. And third thoughts. And fourth and fifth and sixth thoughts. Basically, he was having a lot of thoughts, and a few feelings, about signing up for this.

The cleaners seemed to share Draco’s unease. Sasha had planted himself in one of the six open doorways that overlooked the hall, arms folded and unlit cigarette clamped between his teeth as he glared at the swamp. The other cleaner, the one who simply stared Draco down when he introduced himself, was at least pretending to clean the wall behind Sasha. Although, Draco wasn’t completely convinced that the wallpaper itself should be coming off on the sponge.

Now that the swamp was ready, Ginny and Angelina were busy charming various obstacles into place. A climbing wall, a tire tunnel, monkey bars and some floating platforms. It didn’t look very much like the pictures Angelina had thrust under Draco’s nose.

***

“My brother does it every year.” Angelina had said, bouncing from foot-to-foot as Draco inspected the leaflet. “It’s like an obstacle course but muddy.” Long practised at wiggling out of team bonding events in the least worm-like way possible; this was the moment when Draco should have politely but firmly declined the offer to squirm around in the mud.

Unfortunately, Harry decided to come over and look at the Tough Mudders recruitment leaflet as well. Something he was apparently incapable of doing without first pressing his entire left flank against Draco. Harry’s disregard for Draco’s personal space was an ongoing problem, mainly because Draco liked it so much.

“We’re putting together a Ministry team.” Angelina continued. “You up for it Haz?”

Nothing had been said, but ever since Harry came back from his six month tenure on the Isle of Sark there had been something hovering between them. Something that was hot and staticy and sometimes zapped gently at the back of Draco’s neck. He was fairly sure that Harry felt it too.

“Yeah, looks alright. What about you?” Harry nudged Draco’s shoulder. “You in?”

“Hmm?” Looking up, Draco was distracted by the thick dark hair falling over Harry’s glasses. “Yes I suppose.” He heard himself say, the words feeling thick on his tongue as Harry smiled.

***

Two weeks later and Draco’s head was a lot clearer, unlike his schedule which was packed with training sessions for The Ministry of Magic’s Magical Mudders. This was the first time they’d been able to practise with the mud, something Angelina assured them was a vital component.

At least Draco’s Slytherin side had stopped him from being the first to volunteer. That dubious and potentially dangerous honour went to Ginny.

“You don’t even work for the Ministry.” Millicent pointed out as Ginny did some elaborate and—in Draco’s opinion—overly sexual warm-up stretches.

“Thank fuck,” Ginny cheerfully agreed, stepping up to the doorway and gazing down at the swamp. “Surprised there’s not more of you lot down here to be honest. If I worked here I’d be diving in face first, never to emerge.”

“That option is still available to you,” said Draco.

“You too,” she grinned, snapping her goggles into place. “Alright chaps,” she stepped down into the swamp and began wading over the the first obstacle, an 8-foot climbing wall. “See you on the other side.”

The rest of the Ministry of Magic Magical Mudders team (someone really should stop letting Draco name things) watched her progress for a while, then turned their attention to Draco.

“Right,” he said, pulling on his own goggles and gazing mournfully down at the swamp. “I’ll just. Go. Then.” It was only mud, Draco reminded himself as he stepped down into the swamp. Mud. Soft, harmless, mu—”Why is it so cold?” He demanded. The swamp seemed to be charmed to always come up to the inhabitants armpits, no matter how tall they were. Raising his voice, Draco asked the question again.

“It’s to match your heart,” whispered Millicent. Taking an audible breath, she nudged Draco aside and lowered herself into the swamp next to him.

“Hag.” Draco pretended to push her over, only to have to grab the doorstep again when the mud shifted beneath his feet. By the time he’d regained his balance, Millicent had finished cackling and was halfway up the climbing wall. This really was the most ridiculous activity Draco had ever engaged in.

“This really is the most ridiculous activity I have—”

“Oh is Moaning Malfoy back?” Harry asked, jumping into the swamp. “What the fuck! Why is it so cold in here?” He gave Draco a look of utter betrayal, as if Draco was the one who had insisted that they spend the afternoon rolling around in freezing filth.

“It’s not that cold,” Ginny yelled, squirming through the rubber tyre tunnel and grabbing hold of the the zipwire. Catching hold of Harry’s elbow, Draco moved them so that they were both standing against the wall and no longer blocking the door. Harry moved easily, his eyes fixed on Ginny as she leapt into the air, travelling less than a foot along the wire before grinding to a halt.

“The point of the exercise is to reach the other side,” Draco helpfully offered.

“Yes, thank you, Malfoy.” Ginny spoke through gritted teeth, contorting her body as she tried to inch along the wire.

“Should have kicked off mate,” said Harry, shifting out of the way as Ernie stepped into the swamp and began making his way over to the climbing wall.

“You know what? Fuck—” Ginny lost her grip on the zip wire handles and landed face-first in the mud.

“Ouch,” said Harry, grinning. “Alright, mate?”

“Such concern for your friend,” Draco drawled.

“Friend?” Harry shook his head, his grin fading into one of those smiles Draco had started seeing more and more of. It was exactly the kind of smile that had got him into this (literal) mess in the first place. “I see no friends here.” Harry continued. “Only the woman who dreamt up this nightmare,” he nodded towards Angelina, who was doing some stretches of her own. “And the man who enabled her.”

“En-enabled? You can’t be serious,” Draco laughed. “You are the one who asked if I wanted to join the team.”

“Hmm, and that’s all it took?” Cocking his head, Harry let his eyes travel across Draco’s face. He was still smiling, but it wasn’t the sweet, fond thing it had been a moment ago.

“Well…” Words, where were words? “Office comradery is invaluable and…” Draco gave up looking for words and instead concentrated on closing his mouth.

“Alright I asked you. But you’re the one who said Angelina should ask Robards if it could be included in the Auror fitness training program, making it impossible for either of us to back out.”

“I… Ok, yes, I did say that.” Draco reached up to fiddle with the hair curling behind his ear, immediately regretting the move as something cold slithered down his neck and into his collar. “I’m a problem solver.”

“Solver, creator.” Harry seesawed both hands, palms facing the ceiling. “Either way, you’re the reason we’re standing around in mud when we could be—”

“Actually, you’re both the reason you’re standing around in mud.” Angelina was the last member of the team to enter the swamp, Draco absently noted that Ginny had nearly finished, and Millicent wasn’t far behind her. “Because, you know, you’re not bloody moving.” She reached out a muddy hand, as if to ruffle Harry’s hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry flailed, trying to escape, throw a handful of mud back, and keep his footing all at once. It was a doomed enterprise and, without thinking, Draco darted out an arm to steady him. “Thanks.” Harry was flushed, his side pressed against Draco with only a thin layer of mud between them. “You’re a hero or something.”

“Oh goodie.” Grimacing, Draco experimentally lifted his left foot and tried to take a step back. It didn’t work. This time Harry grabbed him, settling an arm around Draco’s waist. “Not that I don’t appreciate having the Chosen One wrapped around me—” Draco tried to take another step and swayed again, “—but we should probably try to complete the course—”

“Or at least start it,” Angelina called, from her position on top of the climbing wall.

“How did you… she was standing here less than five seconds ago.” Draco turned to Harry in consternation. A consternation that increased when he realised that they were still very much wrapped around each other. “Surely that isn’t possible. Or normal.”

“Yeah, but she’s Games and Sports.” Harry smiled up at Draco. “Not exactly a normal bunch. Last time I dropped ‘round, one of them tried to convince me to use protein powder instead of sugar in my tea.”

“Ghastly people,” Draco considered a theatrical shudder, then reconsidered when he realised it would place parts of him in sudden, repeated, contact with Harry. “We should follow them, or at least stop canoodling in a bog.”

Interestingly, Harry went a bit pink.

“It’s not canoodling,” he said, wrapping his arms even more firmly around Draco.

“Stop it, I’ll fall over.” Draco was, once again, unable to hide his smile.

“Meh, I’ll catch you.”

“Oh will you?” Draco was appalled to hear his own voice coming out a little breathless.

“Yes.” Harry grinned up at him, pivoting slightly so that Draco’s back was pressed against the wall and Harry was pressed against him. “Now, stop squirming before we both fall over.”

“Disgusting.” Ginny’s voice came from above. She was back in the doorway, streams of mud flowing down her legs and goggles propped up on her forehead. The white circles around her eyes made her look like some kind of swamp-dwelling, reverse panda. “You’re both a complete disgrace. Millicent got in after you, Draco, and she’s already in the shower—”

“You might consider following her lead,” said Draco.

“Even worse, Angelina was a full minute behind the two of you, and she’s about to finish.”

“Yeah I am! Team record!” Angelina was scrambling up onto the last of the floating platforms, high-fiving Ernie as she reached the top. “Come on, Harry. You can snog Draco when you’ve finished the course.”

“Watch it.” Harry quickly unwound himself from Draco, heading over to the climbing wall and scrambling up without giving Draco another glance. “I’m coming for you, Johnson!”

“Bring it, Potter!”

“You alright?” Ginny’s voice was closer than before. She’d squatted down in the doorway, her skinny panda face screwed up in concern.

“I’m fine,” said Draco, taking a deep breath. “Just getting my balance.” He pushed off and started pushing through the mud towards the wall.

“You sure? It seemed like you weren’t keen to let go of Harry.” Her words struck Draco between the shoulder blades and he paused a moment.

“Just schoolboy rivalries,” he called back. “You know how it is.”

“Well. I know that if I saw Parkinson in here I’d try to dunk her, not snuggle her. That’s how most rivalries work.”

“Gryffindors,” he shook his head in mock wonder. “So violent.”

“Right. Well, it didn’t look like he wanted to let go either so…”

But he did it anyway, a small voice whispered to Draco as he took hold of the rope and tried to work out how to pull himself up the wall without losing a shoe. By the time he reached the top, Ginny was gone, leaving a trail of muddy footprints in the direction of the showers. Angelina and Ernie had disappeared. Only Harry was still there, waiting by the floating platforms.

“Thought we could do them together,” he called.

“Right,” Draco nodded, readying himself to crawl through the tires.

“Right,” Harry echoed, watching in silence as Draco completed the rest of the obstacles. It was utterly humiliating, Draco quickly realised, trying to fumble and wiggle and flail one’s way through a swamp while the object of one’s… while the person one felt most… while a person, a person with green eyes and muddy glasses just… watched like some, with a look of…

“Are you enjoying this?” Draco gasped, sucking down air as he finally flipped off the last trampoline and landed at Harry’s feet. “Getting an illicit thrill?”

“Yeah, massive turn on.” Harry’s voice was dry enough to dessicate the swamp. “Come on, sex god, last one before we can shower and tell Angelina we’re dropping the team.”

“You’re dropping the team?” Draco asked, climbing up after Harry and very carefully not thinking about being called a sex god, even as a joke. It took a while for the second platform to swing close enough for them to jump.

“Probably,” Harry shrugged and the leapt, his trousers slipping down slightly and showing cotton-clad arse. Huffing and puffing, the Saviour of the Magical World flopped onto his back and pulled his trousers back up, glaring at Draco while he did it. “Stop staring at my arse.”

“I’m not.” Draco spoke too quickly, readying himself to replicate Harry’s jump onto the platform. “I’m waiting for it to get out of my way so I can jump. Why—” he landed heavily. “Why are you quitting the team?”

“Well…” Harry shook his head, rubbed a muddy hand across his face. Then the words came out in a rush as if he’d been brewing them for a while then just decided “fuck it” and dropped in a handful of lizard’s toes. “I only joined the team because you did. And Ginny was really excited about the mud race, but mainly for you.”

“Schoolboy rivalry?” Draco croaked. “Wanted to see if you could beat me at this as well?”

“Er, no. Not so much. Not unless you want to go back to trying to kill each other.” Lost for words, Draco shook his head. “Right,” Harry turned his attention back to the last platform and made the leap. He peered down at Draco as the two platforms drifted apart. “Me neither, thought you were a bit of a tit, back then. Also a Death Eater. But now...”

“Now that I’m no longer trying to murder you, you want to spend time with me?” Draco tried to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“Someone not wanting to murder me is a pretty low bar for a friendship,” Harry pointed out, lifting three fingers to count down when Draco should jump. “Now!”

Draco slightly mistimed the jump, putting a bit too much power into it and nearly knocking them both off the platform. By the time they’d regained their balance, Draco was finally ready to ask.

“Is that what you want? Friendship? Or is this decision to quit the Mudders a sign that my friendship is no longer desirable?”

“No.” Harry gave him a quick once over. “I’d say you’re still pretty desirable.”

“I… that’s terrible.” Draco’s cheeks hurt from smiling, Harry looked like he was having the same problem. “I look like a troll and you’re not supposed to desire your friends, unless the rumours about Gryffindor house are true.”

“Arse.” Climbing to his feet, Harry stuck out a hand to help Draco up. “It’s fine to fancy your friends, natural, even. You know what’s not normal for friends to do?” He took a step forwards. Draco was too close to the edge of the platform to give way and the move brought Harry right into his space.

“What, aha,” he clear his throat. “What’s not normal?”

“Getting wankered at the Auror Christmas Party, telling your mate, me—” Harry jerked a thumb towards his own chest “—that you fancy him, and then never mentioning it again.”

“I didn’t do that. Did I?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I… I…” At a loss, Draco looked to the empty training room for help. “I’m sorry? If that made you uncomfortable.”

“Oh for fucks sake!” Harry exploded, hands reaching up to grip Draco’s biceps and give him a gentle shake. “If that made me uncomfortable then why would I agree to be on Bog Crawlers with you?”

“It’s actually called-”

“I do not give a single, muddy, shit what it’s called. Do you want to go out with me? Because you looked pretty upset when I stopped flirting with you back there, and it’s given me this awkward medical condition called Hope.”

“Sounds gruesome,” Draco laughed.

“Going out with me or me thinking that you want to go out with me?” Harry was laughing, too.

“Both, my fifth-year self would be utterly appalled at this turn of events.”

“What does your current self thinking about it?”

“Hmm.” Draco pretended to consider as he scrambled to collect himself. Sasha and the nameless cleaner were starting to sweep up the swamp. They didn’t look very happy about it. “Why don’t we go any place in the world that isn’t here then maybe a meal? And a shower?” Despite the last few minutes and weeks of heated glances and hesitant touches, Draco found himself half-convinced that Harry would say no.

As it turned out, Harry didn’t say anything. He simply took Draco’s hand and lead him towards the changing rooms, still smiling in that damnably fond way.