Later That Evening
Pansy's POV
The evening was going spectacularly.
Call me surprised. I had only agreed to come because I was sure it would end in disaster.
Hullo, my name is Pansy, and I'm an addict for all things dramatic.
On the contrary, I was truly enjoying myself and had fast-tracked Potter to my "besties" list because, well. He was positively fantastic.
Had Draco somehow known what a foul-mouthed, uninhibited slut Potter was all along?
I had never understood his obsession with the Boy Wonder at school.
He'd been a sad, scrawny thing, swimming in his clothes, sporting those ridiculous round glasses that were always either falling off or broken.
And we were supposed to believe that this tiny child was going to deliver us from the Dark Lord?
I would never have guessed, a decade or so later, that I'd be grilling him about his sex life, much less watching him gyrate shamelessly to a rap song about taking a bloke home for the evening.
Unfortunately, this was also where the evening went sour.
That muggle bloke had appeared, practically out of nowhere, putting his filthy muggle hands all over Harry, and I had sensed Draco's magic begin to spiral out of control almost immediately.
That alarmed me. Feeling Draco's magic.
It was subtle; Draco's magic always had been, but then he'd had to learn how to make it all but undetectable for work.
Don't ask me what that boy did as an Unspeakable to require that level of secrecy.
But I remember him laughing gleefully, eyes glinting impishly as he would play pranks on Blaise and me, sometimes even going so far as to rifle casually through our minds, showing off his wandless magic and ability to do any number of hexes and charms without leaving so much as a trace.
When Harry had actually decided to go home with that idiot, I'd been surprised they'd made it out the door without Draco hexing him with all manner of horrid maledictions.
"Well," I murmured, eyes still on the entrance to the pub where Harry and this Tristan bloke had just exited. "I had no idea Harry was such a little tramp."
Hermione smiled ruefully and took a sip of her pint, she and the redhead seemingly unaware of the imminent danger from the positively simmering dragon sitting between them.
"He's certainly been making up for lost time," Hermione disclosed, almost affectionately. Bless her.
The lights in the pub flickered suddenly, and I snapped my gaze over to Draco. I didn't even need to look to know Blaise had done the same.
I had to hand it to him.
If anyone could manage to look nonchalant and completely unaffected while so upset, it was Draco.
Even now, he was grinning over at Hermione, leaning closer in her direction to say:
"Aren't we all, Granger?"
He managed to wink cheekily as he took another sip of his pint, even while the lights in the pub puttered out completely for several seconds, and the surrounding muggles began to complain about the rolling blackouts.
"Have you all heard about that crazy app that's appearing on our phones?" Blaise asked suddenly, clearly trying to change the subject.
"The one that mimics the Mirror of Erised?" I asked. I'd heard some senior members of the Wizengamot discussing it and was curious to know more.
It was clearly being run by a circle of Dark wizards and had the potential to wreak havoc on our world. Not quite Voldemort's havoc, mind, but havoc, all the same.
"Yeah," Ron jumped in, nodding enthusiastically. "Blaise and I have been assigned to investigate. Gnarly stuff happening to the witches and wizards who're being targeted, but we still have no idea who's behind it and why they're doing it."
Draco and Hermione exchanged glances.
"We're aware," Draco said noncommittally.
Shit. If they were involved, this was even bigger than I'd imagined.
"They tried to rob Gringott's and even staged an attack on Shacklebot," Blaise continued.
"What?!" I couldn't believe the Ministry had managed to keep this out of the Prophet. "And no one knows anything about what's behind it?"
"Nothing concrete," Hermione shrugged.
"The Mirror makes you see your dreams, right?" I'd heard about it but wasn't entirely sure of the details.
"Sort of," Draco conceded, and I could feel his magic begin to settle.
I sent Blaise a silent thank you for changing the subject so effectively. There was nothing our boy Draco loved more than a long-winded, intellectual discussion.
Perfect, really, that he and Hermione were partners.
"It shows what your heart desires the most in the entire world, so it could be a dream or goal, yes, but it could also just be a longing or lovesick desire. Actual dreams and goals are more linked to the brain, and so they can be controlled a bit more by the individual."
"The heart," Hermione took up right where Draco left off, "is its own beast and can lead an individual to do things he or she would never think to do. You know, Pansy," she turned to look at me, "like a crime committed in a fit of passion as opposed to one that is calculated and thought-out."
"But then the brain's worse," Ron interjected. "The punishment is always worse if they can prove you planned it out."
"No," Blaise said, glancing at Draco and Hermione. "It means that there's a "brain" controlling individuals via their hearts."
Draco nodded.
"A whole host of individuals acting on feeling and devotion, answering to an individual or organisation who's taken the time to plan this out and think it through."
"Fuck," Blaise muttered. "If that doesn't sound familiar." He glanced over at Ron and grinned, raising his pint. "Looks like we're going to be putting in some long hours, mate."
Ron clinked his glass to Blaise's, then looked over at Hermione."
"Sorry, 'Mione," he said. "Looks like you'll be home alone most nights these next few weeks."
She shrugged.
"Honesty, I think we're all going to be putting in extra hours these next few weeks, possibly months, with this case."
"Speaking of which," Draco cut in, draining the rest of his pint. "I've got to run. More research."
He nodded to each of us, then headed out the door, and it was all I could do not to look at Blaise.
Instead, I forced myself to continue the conversation with Ron and Hermione until they also decided to call it a night.
I turned to Blaise as soon as the door had shut behind them, and he nodded.
***
"Draco?" I called as soon as we'd apparated to his flat.
It was a disaster.
Draco's dining table was broken straight across the middle, as though a giant had decided to practice a deft karate chop down the middle.
Broken plates and glasses littered the floor, and the lights were out.
I peered through the darkness and could just make out Draco's silvery hair hovering over one of his couches across the reception.
"Draco, Luv," I sighed, carefully picking my way across the room, casting a Lumos with my wand to light my way.
"Go away," he muttered.
I heard more glass shattering behind me and turned to see Draco's expensive stemware whirling back together, only to smash dramatically against the wall.
Draco had always been fond of breaking and re-breaking objects when he was upset.
Of course, back at Hogwarts, he'd needed his wand, and his Reparo skills were definitely not what they were now. I smiled fondly, thinking of all the lumpily repaired items, oftentimes with pieces missing, that would litter the Slytherin common room following one of Draco's outbreaks.
"That was a right shitty thing Potter did," Blaise announced, striding across the room, boots crunching on bits of broken glass as he did so.
He sat next to Draco and slung an arm around his shoulders.
Draco didn't say anything. Just kept repairing and breaking the items strewn about his reception and dining room at random.
"Right," I agreed, sitting on Draco's other side, tucking my legs up and curling into him. "Potter's a horrible slut."
Next second, my entire body was stinging from the effects of a stinging jinx, and I shoved at Draco half-heartedly.
"Don't hex me," I grumbled. "I'm on your side."
"Yeah, and now that we've proven we can all hang out and have a good laugh together, I'm sure we'll be hanging out all the time," Blaise reasoned. "You can run your little paws all over him and feel him up a bit before dragging him back to yours next time he decides to show off his dancing skills."
The surge of magic that blasted through the room at that comment was positively mind-boggling, and I turned to stare at my best friend in a mixture of awe and fear as the windows in the reception exploded, and all the lights flashed, bright as could be, before exploding, sending us back into darkness again.
Outside, I could see the lights in the neighbouring buildings also flicker out.
Our sensitive little dragon was a wee bit upset, it would appear.
And sweet Hecate, was he sensitive.
I didn't think I knew anyone who was quite as sensitive as Draco.
Of course, he hid it spectacularly. Had those walls of his built up, the exterior disdainful sneer nearly permanent and a plethora of snide comments always at the ready.
Honestly, I was pretty sure Blaise and I were the only two people outside of his mum who had any idea.
"Draco, darling," I began cautiously.
One must always use caution when dealing with dragons.
"Blaise does have a point, even if he's rubbish at stating it tactfully."
Another stinging jinx. Bastard.
"I only meant that maybe you should ask him out for a round. Honestly, Draco, I know you're gutted, but please stop stinging me."
"I rather think he made it clear what his answer would be," Draco snarled, sending one of his table lamps at the wall.
"Draco, you're overreacting. It's not as though you've made a pass at him or anything," Blaise reasoned, waving his wand and casting a quick accio.
He held his hand out, and a bottle of Ogden's flew into it.
He set the bottle down, accioed again, and held out his hand to catch the three glasses that followed in quick succession.
Draco snorted, and the lights in the flat switched on.
Outside, I saw the neighbouring lights flicker on as well.
"Right," he muttered, pouring us all a generous serving.
"I didn't know you still had a thing for him," Blaise observed, taking a sip, and I just about murdered the ignorant arse with my eyes. "I mean, I know you were all but obsessed at Hogwarts, but that was ages ago."
"Shut up, Blaise," Draco snapped, taking a sip of his own whisky, and I sighed a breath of relief.
"I'm surprised you didn't hex that idiot on their way out," Blaise continued, and I all but lost my mind at his stupidity.
"I thought about it," he admitted, still sipping his drink.
"Why didn't you?" I asked, finally allowing myself to enjoy my whisky.
Draco snorted again and swirled his glass.
"And let Saint Potter play the hero? Are you kidding me, Pans?"
I giggled, allowing myself to envision the scene.
"Good point, Luv," I sighed, taking another sip, crisis, apparently, averted.
"What's this?" Blaise asked suddenly, grabbing Draco's phone off the table.
I instantly recognised the Pensieve app.
It had immediately made a hit within the Wizarding world a few years ago when it had been released.
Instead of carrying around a bulky Pensieve, witches and wizards could now store their memories in a convenient app, syncable through the Wizard cloud, obviously.
Blaise and I stared in astonishment as the particular memory in question showed Harry Fucking Potter on his knees, all but swallowing Draco's cock, eyes closed, looking for all the world as though he'd just landed on Heaven's doorstep.
It was only half a second, but the image was quite seared to my brain, and I turned to stare at Draco, jaw dropped. Blaise, I noted, did likewise.
"Draco," I whispered.
"Draco," Blaise's voice was nearly a shadow of my own.
"What the bloody fuck do you two think you're doing?!" he shouted, grabbing the device from Blaise's hand, spinning round to face us, lights flickering dangerously once more.
I heard the distant pop of glass breaking and knew that most of Draco's Reparo-ed stemware had shattered once again.
"Draco," Blaise said again, hands up in protest, "what was that?"
Draco threw him a patented Malfoy glare, and I could barely keep from rolling my eyes.
Really, it was perfectly obvious what that was.
"Get. Out."
"Draco," I protested. "When... what... how?"
"Did you not hear me," he snapped. "Get the fuck out of my flat. Now."
"What are you thinking?"
"Are you thinking?" I said it without thinking.
That was a mistake.
"GET. OUT!" Draco positively shrieked, wand suddenly in hand, pointed at our faces.
Blaise and I rose.
We both knew better than to question Draco when he was like this.
"I can't believe you'd violate my privacy like that, you fucking arseholes!"
The wand swished, and Blaise and I jumped up and out of the way, managing to escape whatever nasty hex Draco had just sent our way.
No matter.
He continued to advance on us, screaming obscenities and raging about how we'd broken his trust, all the while throwing a barrage of hexes our way.
I doubted even Potter could throw hexes as rapidly and accurately as Draco could, all whilst yelling and working himself into a right mess, mind.
Thank Merlin Blaise was an Auror and managed to throw up a protective shield as we retreated.
"Draco!" he shouted. "Stop, come on! No one's judging you! Fuck, stop!"
Blaise gave a yelp as one of Draco's hexes pierced his shield, and his wand clattered to the floor.
This was not going well.
"Draco," I tried.
He merely snarled and threw another hex, this time hitting us with absolutely perfectly executed tripping jinx that had us both sprawled across the floor.
Draco continued to advance, eyes wild, curses raining around us like wildfire, and then suddenly, everything went blank.
***
Seconds Later
"Draco?" I called, stepping into his flat, Blaise at my side.
I shook my head, shaking away the slightly dizzy feeling that had accompanied this particular apparition.
We'd just apparated to his flat following stupid Potter's disastrous departure with that awful Muggle.
"You alright, Draco?" Blaise blinked and shook his head, obviously also feeling woozy after apparating.
Clearly, we were both too old to be Apparating after a few pints.
Draco appeared out of the hallway leading to his bedroom, smiling at us bemusedly.
"Of course I'm alright," he grinned, sending the giant tome in his hand over towards his dining table as he held his arms out to embrace us each in turn.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
He sauntered over to the loveseat that sat at one side of his dining table and motioned for us to join him.
Seconds later, a bottle of Ogden's and three glasses zoomed to the table and settled themselves neatly before us.
"Well, Potter," Blaise managed before Draco cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"Potter?" he laughed. "That was years ago, Blaise. Let that Tristan bloke have his fun."
"I was sure you were going to hex the actual dick off of that bloke," Blaise admitted.
Draco rolled his eyes as he poured us each a glass of Ogden's.
"What, and give Potter another excuse to play saviour?" he asked, eyes widening incredulously as he raised his glass in a toast to the both of us.
I sighed in relief and took a sip from my proffered glass, glancing around Draco's flat.
I loved Draco's flat.
It was perfectly decorated and always spotless.
I started as Blaise gasped.
He had also taken a sip of his drink, but he'd pulled back, frowning.
"You need to buy some new glasses," he informed Draco, rubbing his lip, which was bleeding slightly. "You've got a chip in this one."
"Sorry," Draco winced in sympathy, waving a hand to cure Blaise's lip. "Accidents happen."