Chapter 21

2K 51 9
                                    

Chapter 21: Chemistry

____

"Do I have to spell it out for you

or scream it in your face?
The chemistry between us
could destroy this place."

"Staplegunned" by The Spill Canvas

_____

Stage Left: Draco and Blaise
Setting: The Zabini Summer Home

_____

"That's a tough break there, mate," said Blaise between bites of chocolate-covered strawberries out on the deck of his home overlooking a ridiculous display of various shrubbery trimmed to resemble centaurs, gnomes, and fairies. Draco always thought the front yard leading up to the estate was a bit pretentious, and that was coming from someone who grew up with peacocks to meet him at the front gate. He watched as his friend paired the strawberries with a glass of sangria - not even an expensive kind. Just some made by squibs in Peru, as if Peru was where one got the finest things. Hmph. "How did Astoria take it?"

"She's the one who suggested it," replied Draco, taking a careful sip of firewhiskey from his tumbler glass. He much prefered a good scotch, but nothing in Blaise's inventory had been deemed worthy.

"No kidding?" Blaise raised both of his eyebrows together.

"I figured you would have heard, seeing as how you're married to her sister."

"Daphne took Astoria out for a shopping spree. I won't hear the gossip until they've returned."

"There's nothing to gossip about," Draco insisted, waving his hand about. "We're on good terms."

"That's a pretty way of saying you haven't a clue what the Hell is going on."

He hated the way his friend knew him so well. "Indeed, I don't. There. That what you wanted to hear?"

"Amongst other things."

"Like?" Draco bit down on the word venomously. His patience was really wearing thin. Every few seconds, he found his foot tapping so hard against the leg of the table that it shook the drinks on top. Finally, he crossed one leg over the other to prevent further fidgeting. "Oh, I know. Let's talk about how you and Daphne gave my hideaway location to Hermione sodding Granger." His eyes grew dark and foreboding.

Blaise squirmed in his seat, reaching up to unhook the top button of his shirt. "Look, if anything I did you a bloody favor."

"A favor is it?"

"Yeah!" The Zabini heir nodded in defence. "Someone had to dig you out of your depressed hole you'd burrowed into. Neither myself, nor Daphne, could get you out of it. And if there's one thing Granger is good at, it's being stubborn."

"Understatement of the century," Draco muttered. "It still doesn't give you the right-"

"-Whoa, now. Slow your roll there, Bertie Botts." Blaise took a deep pull from his wine, set the glass down on the table, and pointed an accusing finger in Draco's direction. "I have every right to kick some sense into my best friend's arse. Me using Granger to do that? Well, that's just good business."

"Slytherin."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Where's your house pride?"

"Maybe in the gutter along with our friendship?" offered Draco with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Blaise feigned forlornness, casting his hand dramatically over his forehead and tilting his head back. "Oh, no! The horror! The sheer horror! Drakie, come ba-" The next moment, he wore the contents of Draco's firewhiskey over his face. As it dripped comically down his face, Blaise grimaced and shouted, "Aye! What's that about?"

Tango * dramioneWhere stories live. Discover now