Moments

22. A Moment of Gleeful Revenge

(999 words)

Draco heard a car horn outside his flat but ignored it. London was so noisy. He was seriously debating whether he should move out to the countryside again. This noise. He didn't understand how Potter did it, he just couldn't block it out. The horn sounded again and he took a deep breath of annoyance. Maybe he should go over to Grimmauld Place, at least it was quieter there. There was a loud wolf-whistle. He stood up to close the window.

The racket was coming from an ostentatious orange sporty-looking car parked on the curb just below his window. It was a convertible, quite attractive really. It was drawing a crowd. The horn blared again.

Draco realised the driver had a familiar shock of raven-black hair and groaned. The exasperating tosser!

Potter was looking up at Draco's window; signalling for him to come down.

Draco sighed, closed the window, and made his way downstairs.

'Potter!' he groaned as he pushed his way through the spectators on the pavement.

'Come on!' Potter grinned at him. He looked like the fucking Cheshire Cat.

Draco opened the car door and lowered himself in. The interior was luxurious gun-metal grey and orange-piped leather which complimented the exterior. There was a winged symbol and 007 etched onto the silver doorsill. Someone behind Draco gave a low whistle of appreciation.

'Potter, you fucking knob!' There was no venom in his words but, rather, impressed admiration.

The car gave a throaty growl as Potter teased the accelerator and the crowd surrounding the car stepped back.

'Fuck!'

'Yep!' Potter handed him a pair of sunglasses and pulled away. 'Where to?' he said with a grin.

'Monte-bloody-Carlo...'

'Do you even know how suitable that destination is?'

'What do you mean?' even Draco couldn't help the smile on his face as Potter wove through the traffic and headed out of London.

'Never mind. Do you like it?'

'It's 1000% better than the bloody motorbike.'

'It's 1000% muggle.'

Draco didn't care, he did like it. He liked the way the car rumbled, he liked how it looked and felt and smelt. He liked the way people looked.

Potter pulled onto the M40 and floored it. The car roared, Draco's head was forced back against the headrest, and they left everyone standing.

Draco grinned too.

'What's brought this on?' he said.

'All my paycheques from Witch Weekly... been saving them up...' Potter smiled happily. 'Always liked Aston Martins but thought they were for people from a different world. In fact, I know where we should go...'

Potter turned onto the M25 and headed south.

There was no doubt about it, the car attracted attention; whether it was from other road users or from pedestrians in the quaint Surrey villages that they drove through. Eventually, they went past a village nameboard that announced 'Little Whinging, Twinned with Plaindre-du-Auxois'.

'Really?' Draco said.

'Yep, I'm going to enjoy this.'

When they pulled into Privet Drive, Draco wasn't sure how to behave; he knew enough about these people to know he didn't like them. In fact, he would've cursed them into the ground but it was obvious Potter had other ideas.

Potter purposely screeched to a halt outside No. 4, blocking in the car on the driveway and revving the engine noisily. They sat there for a while, Potter's mouth quirking with amusement as net-curtains twitched around them.

The front door was wrenched open and a huge man with an angry face lurched out of the house and rocked towards them. Potter looked at Draco, grinned, switched off the engine, and stepped out of the car.

'Hello, Vernon,' he said pleasantly.

All wind was knocked out of the man who stood there gaping like a Blobfish. A painfully thin woman and a man of their age appeared in the doorway.

'Dudders! Aunt P! It's been a long time. Are you well?'

As Draco stepped regally out of the orange car, Dudley was pushing past his mother. 'Harry! WOW! Nice car!'

'Thanks, just picked it up.'

'Dudley! Get away!' barked Vernon.

Neighbours were emerging onto their front lawns.

Harry was already shaking Dudley's hand before turning to Petunia and kissing her on both cheeks as if their terrible past was non-existent. Draco thought Petunia looked like she'd swallowed Pritcher's Porritch and it was stuck in her throat.

'Are you stopping?' she asked nervously. 'Will you come in?'

'Oh no,' Harry said cheerfully, ignoring all attempts to take the reunion away from prying eyes. 'Hello, Mrs Figg!' he shouted gleefully to an elderly woman across the road before turning back to Petunia. 'Just dropped by on our way to France. Can I introduce you to Draco Malfoy...'

Draco stepped forward and, ignoring Vernon, held out his hand to Petunia.

The neighbours were gawping.

'Odd sort of name,' Vernon said rudely. 'Is he one of your sort?'

'Oh yes,' Harry said, clearing enjoying himself. 'One of the oldest bloodlines, related to French royalty...'

Draco immediately held himself a little taller and stuck his nose a little higher into the air. He kissed the back of Petunia's hand. She practically curtsied. 'Are you sure you won't come in?' she simpered.

Vernon looked like he was going to have an aneurism.

'Is he your boyfriend?' Dudley grinned fiendishly, clearly trying to be derogatory.

Draco raised a withering eyebrow. 'Fiancé, darling,' he drawled superbly. 'Harry proposed when we were in Italy last month. We're just on the way to the family seat, the Châteauvin-de-Pays in Plaindre-du-Auxois. You may have heard of it... We're having an intimate, well, positively bijou, engagement party. Darling,' he turned to Harry, who was fighting to contain his laughter. 'We really must fly. You see, a few hundred people or so are expecting us to celebrate the wonderful news...'

Vernon had gone purple.

They hadn't stopped laughing when they pulled back onto the M25 to return home. 'Château Vin-de-Pays... spluttered Harry. 'I wish I could see Vernon's face when he's next shopping for a bottle of fucking wine...'

*****