Thursday Morning & Afternoon
27 August 2009
Hermione's POV
"Where are you? Are you alright?"
It was 10:07, and now the second time I'd texted. And still no answer.
Which was very unlike Draco.
He treated work and punctuality almost as seriously as I did, so for Draco to be over an hour late was highly suspect.
"Sorry, Hermione," he apologised as he came stumbling through our office door, almost tripping in his haste to get to his desk, managing to look clumsy, even, as he wriggled out of his coat and sat down.
"I got tied up," he continued, pulling his laptop and a minuscule stack of parchment from his briefcase, a quick spell unshrinking them so they returned to normal size.
"Tied up?" I echoed, brows raising as I stared at him incredulously. "Doing what, exactly?"
"I got up early to go over some of the research I did last night and lost track of time," he replied as he deftly shuffled through the now giant stack of parchment before him.
He said it so smoothly that I almost believed him.
Save for the fact that his hair was an unkempt mess, at least by Malfoy's standards.
And his clothes had definitely been thrown on in a rush.
I was certainly no expert in sartorial trends, but I could see the difference between the artfully crafted nonchalance Malfoy's wardrobe usually exuded and the haphazard nonsense he was sporting this morning.
Not that it was anything ghastly, like what Ron would think was appropriate, left to his own devices.
But Draco, wearing a suit that had been carelessly thrown on? No little extras? No pizzazz? No pieces of flair to draw the eye?
Maybe a wristwatch fastened around the cuff of his shirtsleeve, as though he'd accidentally done so because he was in such a rush to get dressed.
A pocket scarf tucked hastily into the breast pocket, fancy folds forgotten for the time being, the rest of his impeccable outfit informing the casual onlooker that he knew perfectly well how to fold a pocket square but just couldn't be bothered at the moment.
Or perhaps his tie, casually knotted, just a tad askew to give an appearance of not giving a damn, but, in all reality, had probably taken at least ten minutes to "get right."
Sometimes, Draco didn't even bother wearing a tie at all, leaving just the top few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his hair tousled so he looked as though he'd just been shagged.
This look was usually reserved for pubs and such where he knew the look would guarantee him that evening's pull.
Truth be told... my eyes narrowed as I studied him more closely.
Draco looked as though he'd actually just been shagged.
As though he'd actually just rolled out of bed and donned whatever outfit his hand had grasped at first when he'd realised he was late and, for once, actually hadn't cared what he put on, so long as it was decent, and matching, and easy to slip on before racing off to work.
And... my eyes narrowed even further.
"Draco Malfoy, is that a hickey on your neck?" I demanded.
His hand clapped up immediately to the bite mark in question, his eyes widening slightly, mouth forming an "O" of surprise.
"If you're going to take the time to glamour them, at least make sure you do it properly," I added, waving my wand and taking care of the faint purple mark that stood out far too well against his pale skin.
"Thanks," he said quietly, licking his lips and looking anywhere but at me.
"I... erm... really did find some interesting facts last night," he went on, eyes glancing tentatively at me as though worried I might actually be upset.
"You had time for research last night?" I teased, raising a brow at him.
Would you believe Malfoy blushed?
"Erm... yeah. I made sure to..." he began, then broke off, the pink in his cheeks, incredibly, rising higher.
He passed a few pieces of parchment over to me, still not quite meeting my eyes.
I took the stack of parchment he offered me, knowing they would be colour-coded and annotated to a degree that even I would find exasperating, and began shuffling through them, eyes glancing up to watch Draco as I did so.
The blush was fading, and he was firing up his laptop, slowly regaining his composure.
"I may have realised something important about the actual Mirror and the app and how they operate," he continued, eyes finally meeting mine, alight with the usual spark they held when we discussed our research.
"Tell me your thoughts while I have a look," I encouraged, understanding that his lateness and any reasons for having been were to be pushed aside for the time being.
Draco launched into his latest theory regarding the Erised case as I scanned through his meticulous notes.
"So... you're saying that the app causes someone to obsess?" I clarified. "Not just intensifies an obsession that was already there?"
"Correct. It's definitely dark magic that allows the purchaser to cast the app into their intended's device.
"I'm almost certain that muggles afflicted who thought they were downloading a self-help app had their memories altered so they wouldn't freak out over finding a new app on their phone. Or maybe so that they would open it and it could work. I'm not sure yet...."
"Well, we have a meeting with Josh and Kipp tomorrow. That will really help."
Josh Williams and Kipp Davies were our research partners in the Love Chamber and, after having approached both Minister Shacklebot and Department Head Bones with our theory that the Erised case was being fuelled by a personal obsession, had agreed that the four of us should begin researching the case together.
"Mmm," Draco was saying, shuffling through more parchment. "And I'll have to start skulking about Knockturn Alley again, too. I'm sure I'll pick up a ton of information there."
"Old Man Edward White's going to have to restock all of his supplies?" I grinned, knowing one of Draco's favourite glamours was an eighty-seven-year-old man who turned up in Knockturn Alley from time to time to refill his stores of highly suspect potions ingredients.
It was almost as though all had returned to normal.
Except that Draco had now raised my suspicions.
I was thinking about the last time I'd seen Draco.
Just this past Saturday, when he'd been so preoccupied, he hadn't been able to focus, and we'd gone out to lunch.
It hadn't even occurred to me then that his distraction might have been caused by a potential love interest.
Not even when Tristan had stumbled, quite literally, into us and mentioned that Harry had called out Draco's name.
No.
It had only crossed my mind, and even then, as a sort of amused, what-if, sort of scenario, when I'd gone home that evening, and Ron had told me about the conversation he and Harry had over tea.
***
Flashback: Saturday Evening, following "Merits of a Slytherin Partner."
"I think Harry wishes you'd been here," Ron answered when I asked him how the afternoon went.
"Why?" I asked, frowning. "I thought it would've been nice for the two of you to have some time alone."
Ron shrugged.
"He's having boy troubles. You know I'm rubbish with advice."
"What sort of troubles? I didn't even know Harry was seeing someone."
"Well," Ron grinned impishly. "I don't think they're quite seeing each other yet, per se. More like... Grindr-ing semi-exclusively."
"Grindr-ing semi-exclusively?" I echoed. "What does that even mean, Ron?"
"It means he found this bloke he really likes on that app, and now he's not sure how to go about taking the next step. Or if the bloke's even interested."
"Has he tried asking?"
"No," Ron replied. "But he has tried showing up at his flat, sloshed, after having come from another bloke's flat."
"He what?!"
"That's what I said," Ron shrugged as he began eating one of the leftover tea sandwiches.
I was too shocked to even admonish Ron about ruining his appetite before dinner.
"He... was with another bloke. Like... with him... sexually," I clarified, just in case I'd missed a key part of this story.
Ron nodded.
"And then he went to the... Grindr'-ing..." I paused, thinking of Ron's phrasing, "... semi-exclusively bloke's flat?"
My voice was doing that shrill thing it did when I was excited or upset or incredibly surprised.
"Why would Harry do that?!"
Ron frowned and shrugged.
"I dunno," he answered, grabbing another sandwich.
This time, I did smack it out of his hand.
"Hey!"
"Dinner," I reminded him, glancing at the clock.
He rolled his eyes.
"I'll be able to eat dinner, you know that.
"Anyway, we're talking about Harry and his love life. Dinner can wait."
"How did he react?" I demanded.
"Who?"
"The bloke! When Harry showed up? Did he say?"
"Said he made him tea and tucked him into his guest bed."
"..."
Ron stared back at me.
"And you and Harry are wondering if he's interested?" I asked.
Ron shrugged.
"It's hard to tell, sometimes, Mione," he reasoned.
"I told him he probably was," he added, shrugging again.
"Ronald," I rolled my eyes, and his eyes snapped guiltily in my direction, hand sneaking back from grabbing another sandwich.
"Let's put this into perspective, shall we?
"Remember back when we were dating? When we took that break to 'make sure', or whatever?"
He nodded.
"Ok, then, let's say I had shown up at yours, sloshed, having just come from another bloke's?
"What might you have done? Would you have made me tea?" I asked.
"Or tucked me neatly into your spare bed?"
"No," he replied. "I didn't even have a spare bed..."
"Besides the point, darling," I reminded him.
"No, I wouldn't have," he said again. "'Course, I have no idea what I would've done, but not that."
"Exactly," I said triumphantly.
"And, let's say the tables were reversed, and you'd come to see me after having been with another woman.
"What do you think I'd have done? Think I would have made you a cuppa and tucked you in?"
Ron pulled a face and shook his head.
"No," he admitted. "I'm quite sure I'd have no bollocks right now, actually."
"Probably not," I confessed. "So, as you can see, this bloke Harry's stumbled upon seems to be quite the keeper."
I frowned.
"Or... such the Hufflepuff that he might be kind of annoying."
"No," Ron shook his head.
"I asked him what house he thinks he'd be in, and he said Ravenclaw or Slytherin, like, immediately."
"Why'd you ask him what house he'd have been in?" I asked curiously.
"I dunno," he shrugged.
"Seemed like the best way to get an understanding of the bloke. But Harry definitely said Ravenclaw or, most likely, Slytherin."
Ron frowned.
"Probably should've asked him why he thought that," he mused, grabbing another sandwich.
I didn't even bother reprimanding him this time and just shook my head.
***
Which brought me back to this morning.
Harry. Growing fond of some bloke he'd met on Grindr.
A bloke who, by his own admission, would have been in either Ravenclaw or, most likely, Slytherin?
Draco. Unable to concentrate on Saturday.
Harry, having called out Draco's name whilst sleeping with another bloke.
Harry, skipping out on Sunday roast, Ron, George, and I fully convinced he'd been with his mystery bloke. (Hopefully, making up for having shown up at his flat after having been with another man.)
And now, Draco, dishevelled and late for work with hickeys on his neck.
It was an absolutely insane idea, to be sure.
And that's why I definitely thought I was right.
It was just crazy enough to make sense.
And would certainly explain Harry's ridiculous obsession with Malfoy back at Hogwarts.
On a whim, I pulled out my mobile and texted Ron.
"Any chance you and Blaise want to join Draco & me for lunch?"
I smiled as Ron's answer pinged back a few moments later.
"Sure. Where at?"
I smirked to myself as I replied with a pub we all enjoyed and waited for lunchtime to arrive.
***
"Draco, I'm meeting Blaise and Ron for lunch," I said, shrugging into my coat when lunchtime came round. "Care to join?"
Draco set down his quill and stretched, thinking for a minute.
"Come on," I cajoled. "You've been having sad, boring desk lunches the entire week."
He grinned up at me.
"Too true," he admitted as his stomach gave a well-timed growl, and I realised that he'd probably skipped breakfast in his haste to get to work.
"I suppose that's a yes?" he quipped, standing to grab his coat. "Where are we meeting them?"
"A little pub just around the corner in Muggle London," I replied as we stepped out into the main Thought Room and continued to the hallway leading to the Ministry elevators.
I glanced up at Draco as we got into one of the elevators, looking at him in a new light.
Truth be told, it'd been a while since I'd really looked at another bloke.
Don't get me wrong, I noticed other good-looking people, both men and women, but never really bothered to examine them closely.
Harry joked that, at this point, I was neither heterosexual nor bisexual and was just "Ron-sexual."
This, of course, always said with an exaggerated shudder.
I tried to look at Draco the way Harry, or any other single person who fancied blokes, would look at him.
His face had filled out since Hogwarts and instead of looking pinched and pointy now had the high cheekbones and chiselled angles models would have killed for.
Honestly, I would have hexed him for the long lashes that framed his stormy-coloured eyes alone.
Never mind that they were slightly deep-set and hooded, offering the perfect definition of "bedroom eyes," if I'd ever seen one.
He was just tall enough, too, without appearing lanky.
Even if I didn't already know the sort of training regimen he was expected to maintain for his job, he was clearly fit, exuding an almost effortless strength.
As though he knew he was powerful and could hex the actual hell out of someone without even flicking his wand, so why even bother showing off about it?
Which, honestly, seemed like something that would appeal to Harry, wouldn't it?
Holy shit, I realised with a tiny smirk.
Draco Malfoy was gorgeous.
"Granger," he barked suddenly. "Why are you staring at me like a love-sick thirteen-year-old?"
"Just making sure you don't have any other love bites we need to cover up before Blaise sees you," I shot back, satisfied at the slight blush that rose in his cheeks.
"Fuck," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, no doubt realising that Blaise would notice his appearance just as quickly as I had.
"And besides," I continued, lest Malfoy got any ideas about backing out of our lunch date now.
"I haven't been a Granger for years now. You can stop calling me that."
"Granger-Weasley just doesn't have the same ring," he complained, grinning down at me
"How can I possibly convey my disdain if I have to snap out Granger-Weasley every time I feel the need?"
I stuck my tongue out at him as we exited the elevator and made our way to the fireplaces that led to Muggle London.
"Ron and Blaise are already there," I told him a few minutes later as we walked into the pub.
I slid into the comfy leather banquette next to Ron, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, leaning into him as his arm wrapped around my shoulder.
"Awww," Draco cooed. "Look at us. We're just two adorable little couples having a double date for lunch."
He slid his chair closer to Blaise's and leaned into him, pressing an obscene smack on his cheek, mimicking my greeting to Ron.
Blaise played along, apparently used to Draco's over-the-top antics, and slung his arm casually around his shoulders before frowning over at him.
"What the fuck happened to you?" he asked suddenly, jerking to hold Draco at arm's length so he could better study his appearance.
"You look like shit."
"Ronald, Luv," Draco drawled, turning his gaze towards us.
"Do me a favour and teach your partner how to greet his lunch date properly next time, will you?"
"What's wrong with the way you look?" Ron's brows knitted together as he looked Draco over.
"Nothing you'd notice," Blaise assured Ron, still giving his friend the once over.
"Seriously, Draco, your mirror let you out of your flat looking like this? Did you even look at yourself this morning?"
"What's wrong with the way Draco looks?" Ron asked again, giving me a confused glance, then looking down at himself worriedly as though Blaise might be holding him to the same standard.
"He's just... not as put-together as he usually is," I explained.
"His hair's a mess, his shirt's wrinkled," Blaise began, eyes still raking over Draco, taking stock of his appearance.
"Trousers aren't pressed quite right, either; you've two different socks on; those shoes don't match that suit, nor does your tie, for that matter.
"Holy Hecate, Draco, did you even realise what you were putting on?"
"I overslept," Draco confessed, rolling his eyes. "Any of you mind if I put in my order?"
Never mind that he was clearly trying to evade the discussion.
Malfoy had a point. It would only do us good to put in our order quickly.
"That you overslept was clear."
Blaise picked right back up once we'd returned from the bar, food ordered and pints in hand.
"Are you sure you're alright, Draco?"
"I think he had a bit of a late night last night," I informed Blaise, smiling sweetly as Draco shot me a murderous glare.
"Oh!" Blaise's expression turned to one of absolute glee. "With that bloke you were telling me about?"
"No," Draco replied, and Blaise's grin deepened.
"That means yes," he informed Ron and I.
"So, as I asked on Saturday, when do we get to meet this lucky man?" Blaise demanded, attention turning back to Draco.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Draco replied, unfolding his napkin and placing it primly on his lap.
"Draco!" Blaise seemed thrilled with this response, eyes lighting up as he grinned over at Ron and me as though expecting us to share in his delight.
Ron glanced at me questioningly, and I shrugged.
Sure, I worked with Draco and was getting to know him fairly well, but I had nothing on Blaise.
"You're in lurve!" Blaise declared, flinging his arms round his mate and pulling him in for a bear hug.
Draco scowled, pulling away from Blaise's embrace, looking very much like a cat being handled by an overly enthusiastic child.
"Really, Blaise," he all but growled, shoving at him. "You're being ridiculous."
Once again, Blaise seemed to think this was a fantastic reaction.
"This is serious," he announced, releasing Draco and turning to face Ron and me once more.
"Hermione," he began, leaning towards me. "I think our dear Draco might need some help to retell the events of his morning."
He glanced at Draco, then back at me, lowering his voice to a theatrical whisper.
"Sometimes he forgets minor details, almost like he's omitting them on purpose or something, and Draco, I swear to fucking Merlin, if you hex me one more time, I will fuck you up," he continued, not skipping a beat and throwing Draco a lethal glare.
"We're going to get to the bottom of this. We're going to meet your mystery lover-boy. You might as well drop the fucking act and be stupid and happy and gushy about it already."
Draco didn't reply.
Just kept staring at some point above Ron's head, jaw working slightly, his right eyebrow twitching, as though he were straining to keep himself from hexing Blaise... well, all three of us, really.
"Hermione?" Blaise looked at me questioningly.
"Erm..." I wasn't sure what sort of information Blaise was looking for.
Or, given the eerie silence from Draco, the proverbial calm before the storm, if I even wanted to be supplying any information.
"Any information?" Blaise encouraged. "About Draco's morning?"
"Well, he was late this morning," I began, stopping as Draco tore his eyes from his focus point above Ron's head to stare at me as though I'd just betrayed his deepest, darkest secret.
"What?!" Blaise sputtered, nearly spilling his pint.
"You were late? For work?!" he gasped. "Draco, you're never late for anything!"
"I'm late for lots of things," Draco replied, smiling up at the barman as he brought our order.
"Like what?" Blaise countered once we were alone again.
"I was late to your birthday," Draco reminded him. "And I'm always late for Ministry functions."
Blaise rolled his eyes and tucked into his pie.
"Yeah, but you're supposed to be fashionably late to those sorts of things."
He chewed for a bit, brow furrowing in thought.
"Actually, you're, technically, on time for those too," he challenged, grinning at Ron and me, both lost and just enjoying our meals at this point.
"I'm sure there's some weird Malfoy formula you follow, like, you should be twenty-three minutes late to a friend's birthday bash but forty-six to a Ministry function."
I couldn't help but burst out laughing, trying not to spit out my bite of burger.
"Draco," I managed, between chewing and laughing, "I have to admit, Blaise is probably right!"
"What's so damn funny here?"
I glanced up and was surprised to see Harry walking up to our table, smiling.
"Harry!" I exclaimed, glad to see my friend, obviously, but thrilled at the prospect of watching him and Draco interact.
"What are you doing here?"
"Ron texted and said you were all meeting for lunch," he explained, pulling up a chair and sitting on the empty side of the table between Draco and me.
I hadn't known it was possible to love my husband more.
Harry already had a pint and a plate of bangers and mash, which he set on the table.
"You were all so engrossed in your conversation that you didn't even notice me come in."
"We're trying to get Draco to tell us about his new beau," Blaise sing-songed, slinging an arm around Draco's shoulder and pulling him in to drop a loud smack atop Draco's head.
"Oh?"
Harry's face gave nothing away as he raised his pint to take a sip, brows rising in interest.
"And what have we found out?"
"That he made Draco late for work this morning and, apparently, dress like shit," Ron replied.
Harry's gaze switched from Ron to Draco, eyes running curiously over his appearance but lingering no more than what would have been appropriate for a cursory gaze between acquaintances.
"This is shit?" he asked, frowning up at Draco. "Seriously, mate, will you help me dress 'like shit' next time the Magpies have a press conference?"
"I could try," Draco responded lazily. "But I doubt you have anything in your closet that could make you look 'like shit'..."
Draco frowned.
"Or my version of shit?" he questioned, trying to figure out his wording. "I don't know, there's an insult in there somewhere, Potter. Please, take it as such."
"But you were late," Blaise reminded us all. "Draco, you were late. For work."
"Crikey, Malfoy," Ron sniggered. "I had no idea you were so anal."
Malfoy giggled and looked as though he were about to respond.
"Nevermind, Weasley," he gasped, shaking his head, still grinning. "Too easy."
"So, is this really all they've been able to finagle out of you about your beau, then?" Harry demanded, grinning at Malfoy as he propped his right ankle upon his left knee and leaned his right elbow on his knee, hand resting in his palm as he looked up at Draco expectantly.
"He made you just a tad late for work?"
Harry took a sip from his pint then set it down, still leaning in towards Draco, a smirk spreading across his face.
Suddenly, Harry's elbow, the one upon which he'd been resting his head, and all of his weight shot off of his knee, causing him to nearly topple face-first into Draco's lap.
"Potter, if you wanted to plant your face in my lap so badly, you should have asked years ago when I might have cared," Draco drawled, and I realised that he had hexed Harry's arm to fall.
I giggled, as did Blaise and Ron.
However, my ears had perked up when Draco had mentioned something about how he might have cared years ago.
What did that mean?
"Malfoy, you fucking jerk," Harry growled, righting himself, eyes flashing nearly as bright as the Avada Kedavra curse, and I sat up quickly.
Blaise and Ron must have also felt the danger because they both leaned in towards the two men as well.
"Harry," I hissed, feeling a touch uneasy as Harry's intense gaze remained focused on Malfoy, who was still reclining lazily in his seat, grey-blue eyes watching Harry, almost challenging him to retaliate.
"Harry," I tried again. "I swear to Merlin if the two of you start a fucking duel in the middle of a muggle pub, not even Shacklebot will give a damn who either of you are."
Harry frowned suddenly, eyes darting to the far corner of the pub.
"Hey, have any of you noticed that bloke in the corner there?" he asked, averting his gaze and turning to look us each in the eye.
It took all my training not to snap my gaze immediately to the corner in question.
Knowing Harry, it could either be a brilliantly played diversion from whatever the heck had just happened between him and Draco, or there could actually be some odd bloke in the corner.
"No," Blaise replied cautiously, taking another bite of his pie. "But I'm assuming we shouldn't all turn and look, so why don't you fill us in, Potter?"
"He's wearing a glamour," Harry informed us, staring down at his pint, mouth curving up in a smile so that if anyone happened to glance our way, it would look as though he were merely smiling fondly at something one of us had said.
"I mean, he's not doing anything weird or all that suspect," Harry continued.
"But he keeps glancing this way, is all," he finished, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, earning him an undignified glance from both Draco and Blaise.
"Really, Potter?" Draco asked, raising an elegant eyebrow, flicking disdainfully at Harry's elbow nearest him.
Harry, thankfully, just removed his elbows from the table without his hackles rising and potentially starting another wizard duel.
"You don't think he's glancing this way because... I don't know, he... maybe, recognises one or two... or maybe all of us at this table?"
"Just thought it was interesting," Harry shrugged. "Why is he wearing a glamour?"
"Because he's secretly in love with you but hasn't figured out how to tell you," Draco dead-panned, taking another dainty bite of his own pie.
"I don't fucking know, Harry."
Harry?
My eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Had Draco Malfoy just called Harry Potter Harry?
"It's just weird that he's wearing a glamour," Harry insisted, seemingly unaffected by Draco's slip in addressing him.
Hmmm...
"I think you two are overreacting," Blaise weighed in, shrugging.
"Course, I can't see this mystery person, but..." he paused to finish off his pint.
"If he is up to anything, he can't have picked a worse group to start anything in front of."
"True," Draco smirked. "I've got a feeling we'd be able to take him."
I rolled my eyes.
Honestly, Harry and Draco alone could have probably faced anything the evils of the wizarding world cared to throw our way alone.
My eyes narrowed again.
Was I imagining it because, truth be told, I thought they'd be so great together, or did it seem as though the two would be a near-perfect match in all things?
A dazzling example of yin perfectly complementing yang.
From their appearances, to their personalities, to even how their magic manifested; Harry's brash, almost crackling, like the air before a thunderstorm, and Draco's, quiet and subdued, but no less dangerous or powerful.
"Oy, Harry," Ron asked, frowning, snapping my attention back to the group.
"How do you even know that he's wearing a glamour? Isn't that the whole point? Anonymity... disguise... whatever?"
Harry shrugged.
"I just can," he replied smugly.
"Unless I'm distracted or something," he added as an afterthought.
"Well, let us know if he does anything stupid," Blaise said, grinning at Ron. "You've got two of the best Aurors on the force here."
"Right, thank Merlin," Harry retorted, grinning back. "I might have been left like a damsel in fucking distress without you two."
We finished our meal, the conversation gradually turning to Harry's upcoming match against Puddlemere United this weekend.
"You nervous, Harry?" Ron asked, knowing they were the Magpie's biggest rivals for the League Cup.
Harry shrugged.
"Not really. Doesn't do much to fret before a match. Just hoping Campbell and McFarland don't do something stupid like go out tomorrow night.
"Anyhow, wish us luck!" He raised his pint, and we followed suit.
"Maybe you'd better ring up your own lover, Mr Dragon-Prick, for a pick-me-up before you leave," Ron suggested.
Blaise, Draco, Harry, and I all sputtered on our pints and stared at Ron.
"What? It's a joke," Ron reasoned, staring at us all. "You know, how Harry almost couldn't play that other match because... you know..."
"Potter," Draco was the first to break the silence. "I am forever referring to any bloke you bring round as Mr Dragon-Prick. That's bloody brilliant, Ron."
Draco raised his pint, Ron, Blaise, and Harry following, and they all laughed.
I might have imagined it, but I thought Harry might have looked a bit relieved.
Regardless, I was now convinced there was something more going on between Harry and Draco.
And I was going to get to the bottom of it.