After a month of twelve-hour days, and working nearly every Saturday, they finally had a solid lead, and the raid on Travers’ place had been organised with the Auror’s for the following day at six in the morning. With this in mind, he and Harry were having one last celebratory lunch together, before heading home early to prepare for the next day. As with every Friday at the Ministry canteen, it was fish and chips day, and Potter ("Oh, just call me Harry, Draco,’ the other had said exasperatedly, "would you still have called me Potter if I’d come over for your sixth birthday?’ he’d added teasingly) was tucking in with gusto. His outer robe hung on a peg on the wall, and his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows to avoid getting grease on them. With the other completely distracted, Draco indulged himself in a habit he was beginning to feel guilty about: watching Harry.