Inked Dragons

A Missed Opportunity

'Wow! And Ginny contacted you?'

'Yes, though Pilli. I'm debating setting up as an underground artist, so to speak. Just doing commissions by word of mouth and charging over the odds for them.'

Harry smiled, 'I suppose you're charging Ginny over the odds.'

'Of course. She didn't even bat an eyelid when I mentioned cost. She's wants to be the first to own one of my artworks and show it off at her fancy showbiz parties. She's also asked me to design her next tattoo.'

'Well that's a fucking unpredictable turn of events... Ginny!'

'I know.'

Harry's eyes narrowed. 'Is she pursuing more?'

Draco laughed. 'I'm not the one keeping my sexuality ambiguous and have random women wanting to drop their pants for me, Mr Harry Sex-God-Hero Potter.'

'What do you mean?' Harry said indignantly.

Draco's lips twitched. 'Rita Skeeter. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw your leather trousers, the dirty bitch, and you don't want to know what sort of thoughts were going through her mind about you doing yoga... an interesting image of you in Reverse Warrior Pose, naked...'

Harry faked gagged. 'Please don't tell me.'

'She's only fifteen years or so older than us. People have bigger age gaps.'

'She's not my type,' Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

'She's a blond.'

'Not enough cock.' Harry's eyes burned with desire behind his glasses as he looked challengingly at Draco.

'Fuck...' Draco breathed out. 'Stop it...'

'Never. Besides, you make all this worthwhile.'

'Aha, so I do have you wrapped around my little finger. I'll have you bringing down the Ministry in weeks. My cunning plan is working.'

'I can think of something better you can do with that little finger of yours...'

'Fuck...' Draco repeated, his eyes darkening dramatically. 'What am I supposed to do with you—don't answer, it was a rhetorical question. You're incorrigible, you know. If I'd known you were so demanding I'd never have agreed to your ridiculous suggestions.'

'I seem to remember it was you who was rather keen on coercing me into politics and out of my trousers at the same time...'

'Don't be ridiculous, Potter.' Draco's eyes narrowing dangerously in a way that had Harry shaking his head in amusement.

Once upon a time it was a look that meant out-and-out war between two rivals; now, Harry knew, it meant something completely different.

'I want a photograph, to mark the occasion of when Harry Potter actually started to play the political game with a proper strategy,' Draco said, fishing in his coat pocket to pull out a small camera. 'Excuse me, miss, please,' he called over to the gum-chewing waitress, 'would you mind taking a photograph of us.'

She looked at Draco as if he were mad but still shuffled over as the men put an arm around each other and pulled slightly closer together. And as she pressed the button, she watched dispassionately as the blond man turned his head and kissed the messy-haired man on the cheek.

'You moved,' she said. 'You'll have ruined it. I'll have to take it again.'

'Don't worry about that,' the blond one said.

She meandered away to go back to her crossword behind the counter, bemused by their behaviour.

'You're a bit random sometimes,' Harry grinned.