Ride or Die

Wise Enough to Wonder

Chapter 8: Wise Enough to Wonder

"I think I'm growing on Griphook," Theo said matter-of-factly, climbing back into the Impala. "I could have sworn he looked happy to see me."

"If memory serves, his exact words were 'oh, you're here,'" Draco reminded him, rolling his eyes. "And then he called you 'the one with the mouth,' if I recall - "

"We get it, Draco, your mind is an impenetrable steel trap," Theo declared loudly, settling himself in the passenger seat, "but you're clearly missing all the obvious subtext of affection."

"Ah yes, the subtext," Draco sighed, turning the key in the ignition. "Right."

"You know, I feel it's also worth mentioning that I like him," Theo added, glancing over at Draco as they pulled out of the alley behind Griphook's so-called warehouse; which was, in reality, a currency exchange called Gringotts located within an old bank building. "Specifically, I like that he hasn't shot us yet."

"Yet being the operative word," Draco commented, and Theo laughed, producing a vaguely mirthless hiccup of humor before trailing off in an awkward cough.

"Remember when it was just a casual retaliation here and there?" Theo asked, sighing. "Just some security gigs and shit back when we were the scary ones with the guns?"

"Yes, and I also remember living in a shitty apartment with you," Draco reminded him curtly. "Don't tell me you miss that."

Theo shuddered. "No," he agreed, "I definitely don't miss the fucking - dearth of clean laundry, or the volume at which you eat cereal, or the amount of times I've heard you - "

"Surprisingly," Draco cut in loudly, "I don't need you to finish that sentence."

Theo grinned, tilting his head. "So," he continued, "in conclusion, while you may have a point," he conceded generously, "I still think this payout is going to have to be fucking massive, considering."

"I have to assume it's the first of many," Draco commented, wondering how he felt about that.

"Payouts?" Theo asked. "Or perilous danglings of our lives for criminal financial gain?"

"Both," Draco said bluntly, ignoring his phrasing. "I can't imagine Tom's going to want to go back to sitting around and waiting to be asked for favors when he can have that shit" - he gestured behind him, to the bags of cash in the trunk - "while barely lifting a finger."

"How do you think Tom even found Griphook?" Theo asked. "He doesn't seem like the kind of guy you just calmly ring up when you've got a fucking stash of extra AKs - "

"Yes, sure, Theo, these are definitely questions I ask myself," Draco drawled irritably. "And, of course, Tom fills me in on all his decisions, and then he tucks me in and kisses my forehead every night."

"You'd think one of these fucking days we'd be wise enough to wonder," Theo muttered, ignoring Draco's sarcasm.

Draco shrugged. "I'll wonder when the payments stop," he replied indifferently. "For now, though - "

"Yeah, yeah," Theo said dismissively, waving a hand and slumping down in his seat. "You going to tell me what you've been up to, by the way?" he asked, glancing over at Draco.

"Oh, you know," Draco replied. "Just living my life, selling guns, solving world hunger. Et cetera."

"God, you're the worst," Theo sighed, shaking his head. "I meant," he clarified emphatically, "the girl you're fucking."