“Hey, what are you working on?” Harry asked as he dropped a kiss on Draco’s forehead before plopping down onto the sofa beside him.
Draco spared him a mischievous grin before turning back to the parchment he was scribbling on.
“Oh, just editing some short stories for the paper,” he said casually. His composure broke and he started laughing as Harry’s face turned red.
“Are you telling me,” Harry growled, “that while I was out doing actual work, you were sneaking behind my back and snatching extra stories?”
“You’re so dramatic Harry,” Draco scoffed, waving a hand absently at his boyfriend. “I was not sneaking around behind your back. You were busy covering the Harpies game today since poor Jacob fell ill so suddenly, so I decided to pick up the slack and edit a few extra stories. You know, do my fair share as co-editor in chief.”
“Fair share my ass,” Harry grumbled. “Wait a second. Was Jacob even ill? Or was it all just a plot to get me out of the office?”
Draco still had that wicked smile on his face, but neither confirmed nor denied Harry’s suspicions. Giving up on his interrogation, Harry pried himself off the sofa in search of dinner.
He wasn’t actually mad at Draco, just mildly annoyed. It had always been a competition between the two of them to see who could edit more of the short stories for the paper but never had they actively sabotaged each other’s chances like this. No, this was a new trick, and it clearly meant war.
It was probably silly, Harry thought as he reheated a plate of leftover lasagne. They were co-editors of the Daily Prophet- the thought still made them laugh, but that was the reality. When they had initially started dating, the media had had a field day with the topic. But for the prophet, that field day had become more of a field year. Harry had finally snapped and put in a bid for the prophet, and Draco had backed him up. When they suddenly found themselves the proud owners of the most popular wizarding newspaper in the UK, completely at a loss for how the media worked, they brought in the only person they knew for the job: Luna.
Of course, Luna had made some big changes. One of the biggest had to have been the creation of Eruditio, a sub-publication dedicated to literary arts. Luna had started by putting out a call for short stories in the evening prophet, based off of a short prompt. They had received enough to put together Eruditio, and Luna had picked a winner. While there was a 25 galleon prize for the best writer each month, people more often than not compete for the additional prize of being able to pick the next month’s prompt.
Of course, for Harry and Draco, as co-editors in chief, the competition was not about being chosen for best story, but rather to see who could read the most stories before that month’s issue was released. They usually claimed the submissions as they arrived, but clearly, Draco had been sneaky this time. Harry was especially pissed off because this month’s prompt had been quite amazing: I’m not asking permission.
Harry’s mind was full of plots to get back at Draco as he cleared the table. He was currently in favour of a plan toward Draco’s office to reject owls, but that meant that Harry would have to deal with all of Draco’s daily mail and that sounded like a headache and a half. His other option was to put a notice in the prophet, reminding writers to address their entries to "Harry Potter" instead of "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy". This seemed like a risky move though and would have long-lasting consequences. As much as he loved proofreading the entries, he definitely didn’t have time to edit every single one of them.
He finally decided to sleep on it, hoping his brain would come up with a plan by the morning.
Harry and Draco,
The board has convened a meeting for this morning and asked that we attend. I’m writing to give you a heads up because Harry needs to be better dressed than usual. Draco, you’re fine. Please be on time today and no editing during the meeting!
Harry smirked at Luna's letter. This was the perfect opportunity to get back at Draco. He hurried back into bed as he heard the shower turn off., casting a quick warming charm on his forehead before slipping back under the covers and hiding the letter under his pillow.
“You’re still not up?” Draco asked in surprise as he stepped out of the bathroom, hair styled and ready to go. “We’re going to be late if you don’t get a move on.”
“I’m not feeling well,” Harry moaned, adding a cough for extra emphasis. It took all his self-restraint not to smirk as Draco’s hand reached under the covers and touched his forehead.
“Wow, you’re running a fever.” Harry felt a little bad at the worry in Draco’s voice, but the thought of all those stories kept him going.
“I think you should go on without me,” Harry said, trying to make his voice sound strained. “I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sick as well.”
“Hmm, you’re probably right. Please don’t play the hero and try to tough it out- if you feel worse go to St. Mungo's, and call me!”
“Yeah, I'll do that. Have a good day at work.”
Harry listened carefully for the sound of the floor. He lay back in bed, congratulating himself on his plan. Now Draco would be stuck in the board meeting all day, and Harry could collect all the story entries that came in. He even got to have a bit of a lie-in, since no one was expecting him.
“You’re a genius,” Harry mumbled to himself, before rolling over and going back to sleep.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
Harry looked up to see a tired looking Draco drop his coat over the back of the armchair.
“Great,” Harry said cheerfully. “These stories really cheered me up, and I’m all better now.”
“How did you get those?” Draco frowned.
“Oh, they were just piling up in the office, so I figured I may as well get editing. The deadline was today.”
“You… you went to the office today?”
“Yup. Oh, I meant to ask, how was the board meeting?” It was Harry’s turn to laugh as Draco’s face turned red.
“You knew?” He fumed. “You let me walk into that office totally unprepared when you knew? And worst of all, you stole all the stories for today!”
“Well I figured since you were so bravely sitting through that board meeting, I should do my fair share of the work,” Harry shrugged. Draco sighed as Harry repeated his own words back to him.
“Okay, I call a truce. From now on, we split the stories evenly, deal?”
“And no more bogus sick days! At least, not without me.” Draco pouted.
“Of course not,” Harry agreed. “In fact, I’m worried you may have caught whatever it was that I have today.”
“Oh, how tragic,” Draco smirked. “I wonder how that happened?”
“I can think of a few ways,” Harry whispered, before drawing him in for a kiss.