Friday Afternoon
04 September 2009
Blaise's POV
"Blaise, we're meeting for pints again," Ron informed me, rubbing tiredly at his eyes with the palms of his hands.
"Care to join?" he asked, hands dropping to his desk, eyes looking at me expectantly.
"Sure," I replied, reaching to massage the back of my neck. "Who's we?"
"Me, you, Hermione, Draco," Ron listed off.
"I'm assuming we can convince Harry and Pansy to join. Any chance Anaïs will be able to find someone to watch the kids and come along?"
I shrugged.
"Probably... hopefully," I responded to each of his questions, already texting home, following up with a second text to Pansy.
"Where are we meeting?" I asked as Pansy's response pinged back almost immediately.
"The Magpie," Ron answered. "It's just round the corner once you get to Muggle London."
I nodded as I forwarded the name and address to Pansy.
"I assume we're celebrating the Magpie's victory last weekend?" I grinned.
The team had played an absolutely brilliant match against Puddlemere, Harry, of course, swooping in with a spectacular dive at the end to catch the Snitch, ending the match and making it clear that Puddlemere was going to have to keep bringing their A-game if they had any hopes of winning the League Cup this year.
"Yep," Ron grinned back. "That's actually how we found it. Hermione dragged Harry and me there when he signed on with the Magpies, but it's actually a great place to get a pint. And their pies are to die for."
Ron knew I loved an excellent pie.
"Erm... Mione said Draco went home for lunch. And that this is the first time he's ever eaten lunch at home?"
Ron glanced up at me questioningly, as though unsure why his wife might be texting him Draco's eating habits.
I, however, knew instantly why Hermione was sharing this piece of information.
"He is not going home," I assured Ron.
"He's not?"
"I mean, maybe he is... but he's not eating lunch," I snorted, making a mental note to grill Draco relentlessly about his mystery man when we met up this evening.
"I'm texting that to Hermione verbatim," Ron informed me, thumbs flying across his mobile.
"Don't do that!" I protested, sitting up straight, jaw dropping.
"Why not?" he asked, setting his mobile down and looking back at me. "She can handle it. She's not a prude, you know."
"I know that, but..." I frowned and leaned back in my chair.
"She said to ask if you've met him or anything yet."
"No," I shook my head. "Not yet."
"She wants to know if you know anything more about him. Even a name?"
I shook my head.
Not more than five seconds later, Hermione appeared in our office, a sandwich in hand, holding out a second sandwich to Ron.
"That doesn't seem strange to you?" she asked immediately, sitting on the edge of his desk and looking at me expectantly.
"What?" I asked.
"That you don't even know the name of this bloke?" her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she took a bite.
"Not really," I shrugged.
Draco was weird like that.
"Well, what do you know about him?" Ron asked, leaning over to sneak a bite of Hermione's sandwich, earning him a glare and a half-hearted smack across his head.
"Not a whole lot," I replied, rummaging around in my desk for my own lunch.
Ham and Gruyère on a baguette. Or, you know, the closest thing Anaïs had been able to find to a real French baguette so far.
"I know that seems weird to you," I added, taking a bite. "But that's kind of just how Draco is. He's very secretive and doesn't give you a lot of information on purpose."
I rolled my eyes as I took another bite.
"I mean, I'm pretty sure half the reason he became an Unspeakable is so that he can smirk at you and say, 'I can't tell you'."
"So, you really don't know anything?" Hermione asked, looking crestfallen.
"I mean, honestly, it's kind of a good thing," I reasoned, taking another bite of my sandwich and looking forward to the excellent baguettes and other pastries Anaïs would bring back next week when she returned from Paris.
Ron and Hermione gave me puzzled looks.
"It's like, the less you know, the more serious it is," I explained.
"Which, when it's, say, why he's suddenly not eating and muttering to himself like a lunatic when we were in Sixth year, turned out to be a very bad thing," I paused to chew.
"But when it's something like Draco possibly meeting the man of his dreams, is a very good thing."
We sat for a moment in silence, all finishing the remainder of our lunches.
"Do you think he'd invite him to come have a few rounds with us tonight?" Hermione asked.
"Hermione, Luv, your guess is as good as mine," I sighed, wiping the crumbs up from my desk and looking her in the eye.
"Why are you so interested in Draco's love life, anyway?"
Hermione licked her lips, averting her eyes momentarily before looking back at me.
"I... have a theory," she said cautiously.
I raised a brow at Ron, who shrugged.
Granger hadn't shared her theory with her husband yet?
Interesting.
Of course, I had a theory of my own.
One that I'd banished to the back of my mind because surely it couldn't be.
I was surely thinking wistfully on Draco's behalf with that one.
There was no way.
"Care to share this theory?"
I was no Draco, but I could ask questions without belying my underlying motives.
"Erm..." Hermione bit her lip and struggled to meet my eye.
This was a good sign, really.
"I may have theories of my own," I added, deciding to meet her partway.
Brown eyes snapped up to meet mine.
Hermione really was brilliant, I reminded myself.
"My theory," she began, licking her lips cautiously.
"My theory involves an old classmate. From Hogwarts," she clarified, as though we had attended more than one school together.
"As does mine," I replied, holding her gaze.
Ron, bless him, was looking between the two of us in utter confusion.
"It'd be the last person you might suspect," Hermione continued.
"Would it?" I countered, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, seeing as we're both suspecting him."
Hermione grinned and shrugged.
"No," Hermione agreed, standing up and glancing at her watch.
"They'd be almost oddly suited," she admitted. "But... I'd appreciate you helping me get as much information as possible out of him tonight?"
"I'll do my best," I assured her.
"You should probably head back to your office," I added, glancing at the clock on the wall. "We wouldn't want our little Dragon getting suspicious of your own lunchtime whereabouts, now, would we?"
***
Four hours later, Ron and I found ourselves exiting the Ministry and strolling through Muggle London.
"Is Anaïs coming?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"No, she couldn't find anyone to watch the kids. She's headed back to France until Wednesday, though, so she didn't mind looking after them tonight."
I don't know why, but I always felt as though I needed to explain whenever Anaïs was so understanding about looking after the kids while we went out for a pint.
To be honest, she didn't really like beer and felt awkward in loud, jarring social situations so she often chose to stay home, using the kids as an excuse, waiting to meet and interact with our friends at smaller, more intimate gatherings at our various homes and such.
It was probably the fact that he was married to Hermione, and I just assumed they were both judging me for going out while my wife stayed home with the kids.
"Must be nice," Ron mused. "I bet she brings wonderful pastries and chocolates back."
"That she does," I agreed, looking over to grin widely at my partner, making a mental note to gift him and Hermione some goodies next week as we walked into the pub.
Hermione and Draco were seated at one of the bar tables lining the wall, a round of pints already waiting.
After the perfunctory greetings had been exchanged, Ron and I seated next to Hermione and Draco, respectively, I decided to go straight for it.
Hermione and I had to start questioning Draco.
Quickly.
Our only hope was to somehow surprise him into giving us some kind of clue, and that wasn't going to come from skirting daintily around the issue.
"So, is Lover Boy stopping by for a pint?" I asked Draco, taking a sip of my own and looking at him expectantly.
"No," he replied immediately, raising his own pint to his lips.
Of course, Draco didn't offer any further explanation.
I continued to scrutinise him, looking for any hair or thread out of place, but he had, apparently, learned his lesson.
He was immaculate, as usual, the only imperfection marring his perfectly pressed suit and shirt being the hastily-tied tie and the unbuttoned first buttons on his jacket cuffs, both clearly done on purpose.
"Why not?" Hermione asked innocently, and I just about kissed her.
There was no way I could have asked Draco that without raising his suspicions.
"He's busy," he responded, shrugging casually.
We were interrupted then by the arrival of Pansy, who came in like a whirlwind, pecking each one of us on the cheek before pulling up a barstool between Hermione and myself and setting her own pint on the table.
"Hello, darlings," she sighed. "I'm so glad you invited me. Really needed a night out after the week I've had."
She paused to take a sip of her pint, then glanced around the table, frowning.
"Where's Potter?" she demanded.
"He is coming, isn't he? I could really use his foul mouth and ability to pull a stupid bloke out of nowhere with his ridiculous dance moves to get my mind off this case," she added.
"Yeah, don't worry," Ron assured her. "He said he was on his way."
"Have you been tied up with cases from all the Erised shit going on?" he continued sympathetically.
Pansy nodded, rolling her eyes.
"I really hope this shitbag gets caught soon," she informed us, glaring at each one of us in turn as though we were somehow personally responsible for this.
The conversation, naturally, turned towards the Erised case, all of us offering what juicy gossip we could.
The Ministry had decided that the motive was self-serving and that the attacks on Gringott's and Shacklebot were an indicator that the entire thing had blown up into something larger than the perpetrator could control.
Ron and I were on constant alert as Aurors, stopping minor scuffles and making arrests.
Pansy was up to her eyebrows in new cases to research and argue.
And who knew what Hermione and Draco were up to?
We were now nearly through our round of pints, but I was unsure how to get the conversation steered back to Draco and his mystery man without being much too obvious.
I knew better than to glance at Hermione.
Merlin, thankfully, was feeling a tad merciful this evening, and an absolute miracle occurred as Draco and Pansy went to fetch our second round.
Draco's mobile, which he'd left on the table, began to vibrate.
I snatched it, flashing a victorious grin at Hermione, as I stared at the name on the screen.
I held it surreptitiously in my lap and tapped it lightly with my wand, murmuring an anti-Accio spell, then looked up at Draco, eyes sparkling in excitement, my smile only broadening at the worry that definitely flitted across his face as he and Pansy set the pints down.
"Kitten?" I squealed in delight. "You call him kitten?!"
I felt a slight tug at the phone, my smile turning into a wicked smirk as Draco realised that his non-verbal Accio wasn't going to help him any.
Bless him, he made a whole-hearted attempt to lunge at me, hand reaching for his precious mobile, but no luck for him.
A few taps on my end answered the call from Draco's "kitten" and put him on speaker for all the table to hear.
Draco stopped dead in his tracks, a look of absolute horror on his face, all the blood draining, an almost deathly pallor taking over his face.
"Draco?" asked an all-too-familiar voice. "Hullo? Draco? Are you there?"
I couldn't help staring at Hermione, a triumphant smile on both our faces.
I turned my gaze back to Draco, who had his face resting in the palm of his left hand, eyes closed in surrender, as I placed the phone back on the table.
"Yes, Harry," he replied quietly, eyes opening to glance down at his phone, as though Harry himself might magically appear there. "I'm here."
"Kitten," I mouthed teasingly, earning such a spiteful glare from my mate I was surprised I didn't melt on the spot as Ron and Pansy both sniggered.
Hermione, bless her, was mature enough to hold back her reaction.
"As are all of our mates," Draco continued, glaring at us even more ferociously. "Because they're insufferable, nosy bastards."
There was a pause.
"Fuck. Am I on speaker?"
"Yes," Draco replied, glaring at me with renewed intensity.
"And you can thank my cunt-of-a-friend, Blaise, for that."
"Erm... thanks, Draco's cunt-of-a-friend, Blaise," came Harry's reply almost immediately and Draco couldn't help but laugh, almost affectionately, at that.
"Harry, you should come join us, now that it's all out in the open," I instructed as I took another sip from my pint.
"Sure, ok," Harry's voice sounded distant, as though he'd also placed us on speaker and was now searching around for something.
"I mean," he corrected, "I was on my way, just not as, you know..."
"Erm, Draco?" Harry changed the topic suddenly. "I can't find my shirt."
I could hear rummaging and objects being lifted and dropped in the background.
"Potter, is your lazy arse really still camped up at my flat?" Draco asked, shaking his head ruefully.
"No, but my 'beautiful, perfect' one still is," he replied, clearly parroting one of Draco's more private adulations, and I couldn't help but snigger along with everyone else.
"It needed a bit of a rest after you..."
"Potter," Draco snapped, head jerking upright. "Speaker!"
"Oh... right," Potter seemed to remember his audience as we all began sniggering again.
"My t-shirt?" he asked again.
"Just grab one of mine."
"I can't find them."
"They're on the shelf on the left."
"I already looked there."
"Then look harder," Draco suggested. "And hurry your 'beautiful, perfect' arse down here and have something to drink with us. We're at a pub called The Magpie."
Draco paused and gave Hermione a knowing glance.
"I've a feeling at least one of your sidekicks had her suspicions when she decided where we'd go for pints tonight."
Harry laughed.
"Right. That's our Hermione. I know the place. Be there soon."
There was a flurry of conversation the minute Draco hung up.
"Draco. Lucius. Malfoy!" Pansy scolded while Hermione and I both cried out:
"I knew it!"
Ron, however, let out a strange noise. Something between a soft wail and a whimper.
"Oh, no!" he cried, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, gods. Please, no!"
"Are you alright?" I asked, straightening slightly, hand reaching for the wand concealed in my trousers, eyes glancing around the pub for anything out of the ordinary.
Hermione looked equally distressed and reached out a hand to pat Ron gently on the back while Pansy had her pint paused halfway to her mouth, a look of concern on her face.
Draco was staring at Ron apprehensively, mouth dropped in an "O" of surprise as he quickly averted his gaze, setting his pint down neatly in front of him.
"I mean, I figured there'd be some kind of reaction," he said quietly, eyes staring hard at his pint in a gesture that I knew was meant to keep his gaze from nervously flitting around the table.
"But you and Blaise and I have gone out for enough pints I guess I had assumed we were sort of mates by now...."
"No! It's not that," Ron nearly shouted, standing up on his barstool and leaning towards Draco, arms waving in a non-verbal echo of his words.
"It's not that at all, mate, it's just..." Ron grimaced, and I had to laugh, despite the awkwardness of the situation.
I mean, honestly. Did anyone have better facial expressions than Ron?
"It's just..." he moaned again, face dropping into his hands as a fiery blush took over his entire face.
"I called you Mr Dragon-Prick!" Ron cried out, raising his head to glare at Draco accusingly.
"And... and... I was teasing Harry on Saturday," he continued, head dropping back into his hands. "Argh! I told him I was happy he'd finally found someone hung like a dragon, and he thought it was so goddamned funny, and now I know why, and dammit, Malfoy, you realise that's not something I ever wanted to know!"
I couldn't help the guffaw that tore out of my throat at that.
Neither could anyone else at the table, apparently, given the raucous bout of laughter that rose from our table just then.
"Some of us live up to our names, apparently," Draco smirked, looking somewhat relieved that Ron wasn't actually upset as he took a sip of his pint.
"Hey!" Hermione protested, turning to glare at Draco on Ron's behalf.
"What? It's a compliment," Draco protested. "He's not a weasel!"
"Can we please get back to the important topic at hand?" Pansy reminded us all, eyes narrowing as she leaned in towards Draco.
"You've been fucking Harry Potter?!" she screeched, shoving at Draco's shoulder to emphasise her point. "And you didn't even think to tell me? Are you fucking kidding me?!"
To anyone but me, Draco would have appeared nonchalant and completely unaffected.
I, however, saw the slight tic at his eye as he mentally prepared himself for the grilling he was sure to get from our darling Pansy.
"Well, I'm certainly happy for the both of you," Hermione interjected, and I gave her the briefest of glances, wondering if she'd also caught Draco's reaction.
"And, I suppose you have a new nickname now, hmm?" she continued, winking at him knowingly.
"Not new, trust me," Draco assured her, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, Merlin," Pansy sighed dramatically as she patted Draco on the back. "The girls in Slytherin were obsessed! Always trying to go sneak a peek..."
"None of the boys tried to sneak a peek?" Ron joked, offering Draco his own tiny smirk.
"None of the boys interested had to," I replied, grinning as I nudged Draco with my elbow, remembering some fellow students I'd seen him sneaking into his bed who I would never have guessed leant that way.
Roger Davies, for example, who was either in denial when he'd attended the Yule Ball with Fleur, or just had a penchant for good-looking blonds, regardless of gender.
"Millicent was the worst!" Pansy was saying, giving Draco a sympathetic glance.
"Honestly, I was frightened she was going to corner you alone or something," she added, frowning in disgust.
Draco actually shuddered, and I couldn't blame the poor bloke.
"Millicent Bulstrode had a crush on you?" Ron asked, looking even more horrified than he had when divulging his accidental nickname for Draco.
"No wonder you were such a pillock at Hogwarts."
Draco shuddered again and downed the remainder of his pint.
"Between constantly eluding that monstrosity and my arsehole of a father, it's a wonder I survived adolescence," he admitted.
"Harry!" Hermione called out just then, and we all turned to watch Harry saunter towards us, giving a little wave as he did so.
"Hello," he greeted, pulling up a barstool and sliding it next to Draco's, leaning in as though to give him a kiss on the cheek, then drawing back uncertainly, glancing at the rest of us.
"Honestly, Potter," Draco muttered, hand twisting into Harry's collar and pulling Potter towards him to kiss him soundly on the mouth.
"Not like any of these gits weren't waiting for it," he added, smirking as he released Harry, who sat on his stool, licking his lips carefully and eyeing Draco as though he wanted nothing more than for that kiss to continue.
"I'll get this next round," Pansy announced, offering Harry one of her rare, brilliant, genuine smiles.
"I do hope you boys realise the round of questioning you're both in for tonight," she added before turning on her heel and sauntering off towards the bar.
Harry looked nervously back at Draco, who merely hooked his shoe around one of the legs of Harry's stool and drew it closer to him so that he could wrap his arms around Harry from behind.
Harry sighed and leaned back against Draco's chest, smiling lazily over at Hermione and Ron, looking, I'll admit, every bit the pleased kitten who'd lapped up the entire bowl of proverbial cream.
"And I suppose you two have questions as well?" he asked, quirking a brow at them.
"Honestly, the two of you kind of make sense to me," Hermione replied earnestly. "It explains so much about your obsession with Malfoy all throughout Hogwarts."
Harry's gaze hardened as he tried to straighten up, clearly not happy with what Hermione had just revealed.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Draco drawled, an absolutely delighted smile lighting up his face as his arms tightened to hold Harry flush against him.
"What was that you just said?"
His head dipped down to place a gentle kiss atop Harry's head, although his eyes and signature smirk informed us all that he was relishing this moment all too well.
"Erm..." Hermione seemed to have realised her mistake.
Honestly, the glare Harry was sending at her alone was all the proof I needed that he'd been spending a fair amount of time with Draco.
If looks could have actually killed, a smouldering, agonising death would have been Hermione's for sure.
"Bloody hell," I giggled, staring at the tableau laid before me.
"Do you mean to tell me these two had crushes on each other at school?!"
Draco glared at me, and I rolled my eyes as an absolutely nasty stinging hex hit me.
"Honestly, Draco," I groaned. "That's getting a bit old. Stop hexing me when you're peeved."
"That wasn't me," Draco insisted, eyes wide, hands lifting from Harry's body, palms facing me in the universal sign of innocence.
Harry, unlike when Draco threw a non-verbal hex at you, had the good manners to at least look sorry about it.
"I thought that one felt a bit different," I admitted, rubbing at my arms and thighs, still stinging and prickling from the strength of the hex.
Holy Hecate.
Potter was bloody powerful, everyone knew that.
But that hex had been out of this fucking world.
Potter actually smirked back at me as he settled back into Draco's arms, and I fully admit to being a bit awestruck at the sight of, perhaps, the world's most powerful wizard snuggling happily into my best mate's arms.
"Harry, Luv, be a dear and go grab those last three pints for me," Pansy instructed, returning to take her seat and setting a pint before Ron, Hermione, and myself.
How Pansy had this innate ability to convince any witch or wizard to do her bidding, I'll never know, but Potter rose immediately and headed towards the bar as commanded.
"Draco."
Pansy wasted no time turning to Draco.
"Before I start this vigorous round of questioning, let me just say... the two of you look blissfully happy, and I'm not sure I've ever even seen something so adorable."
She glanced behind her to see Harry already returning with the pints and turned back to smile affectionately at Draco as Harry set a pint before her, then Draco, keeping the third for himself.
Draco made no outward acknowledgement at her proclamation, one arm immediately wrapping back around Harry as the other raised the new pint to his lips.
"Well," he sighed resignedly, "Start, then."
"I want to know how the bloody hell this even happened," Pansy started.
"No," she barked almost immediately, holding up a hand as both Draco and Harry opened their mouths to respond.
"I don't give a fuck about Grindr or sending each other dick pics and arse pics or whatever," Pansy assured them both, causing us all to snigger at our various points of downing pints.
"I want to know how, once you had seen each other face-to-face, this happened."
Harry threw his head back and laughed.
"It started because I decided I wasn't leaving without a drink," he admitted, head tilting up and back to gaze at Draco lovingly.
Holy Hecate.
The two were in love.
I don't even know if either of them had any idea or had admitted it to each other, but two people did not look at each other like that if they weren't hopelessly, wonderfully, insanely, stupidly in love.
"Felt I really needed one, what, with this prat opening the door," Harry continued, still gazing affectionately at Draco.
"Can you imagine?" he demanded, suddenly leaning out of Draco's grasp, giggling as he looked around at each of us.
"Knocking on the door to meet your Grindr date, and it's your bloody school nemesis standing there?"
"Knowing you were looking for massive cock," Ron added, sniggering, his earlier panic upon realising Draco was Mr Dragon-Prick seemingly forgotten.
Harry only responded by extending his middle finger to Ron as he settled back into Draco's embrace.
"So... you got sloshed and decided to have a go?" Hermione asked doubtfully.
Harry and Draco both shook their heads.
"Not sloshed," Harry corrected. "But I suppose I was in a certain mood and figured I was already there..."
Harry trailed off with a shrug.
"A certain mood?" Pansy repeated with a chuckle. "Is that what we're calling it these days?"
"Horny," Harry snapped, leering in Pansy's direction.
"I was horny. I wanted cock, and it just so happens your mate, here, has a bloody fabulous one, so..."
"Merlin, Harry!" Draco interrupted, hand clapping over Harry's mouth as the slightest hint of a blush rose on his cheeks.
"That mouth of yours..." he sighed, rolling his eyes as the rest of us sniggered.
"... is wonderfully talented, and you love it," Harry finished for him, ducking away from the playful swat Draco swung at his head.
Hermione was giggling to herself, gazing fondly at the two men as she shook her head ruefully.
"So, you two decided to ignore seven years of intense school rivalry to hook up because you were horny? Of course, you did."
"He attacked me half-naked!" Draco squawked in protest. "What was I supposed to do?!"
"I did not attack you," Harry retorted.
"Did so," Draco insisted.
"Right, before this turns into a back-and-forth deserving of two five-year-olds..." Pansy interrupted as though knowing Harry had been about to retort once again that he "had not."
"Let's move on... so you two hooked up that one time... when was that, by the way?" her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Draco.
"I dunno," Harry shrugged, seemingly unaware that Pansy was asking for a reason. "Mione, when was it that you told me about Grindr? April? May?"
"FOUR MONTHS!" Pansy actually smacked Draco's arm with a real sting behind it. "You've been buggering Potter since bloody April, and I'm only hearing about this now?"
"It was May. And it was only supposed to be a one-off," Draco huffed, taking a gulp from his pint. "I certainly wasn't going to mention anything then. What, am I supposed to tell you about every bloke I pull?"
"Goodness, Draco, no," Pansy drawled. "Nobody in the world has the time needed for that endeavour."
She ignored the bird Draco flipped her and glanced around the table at our nearly empty pints, then up at me pointedly.
Apparently, it was my turn to buy.
"Right," I said, standing and turning to look at Ron. "Give me a hand?"
"Merlin, I would've never guessed Malfoy," Ron murmured as we headed to the bar.
"It's not the most obvious combination in the world," I assured him with a grin.
I mean, I'd known Draco had a thing for Potter, and even I hadn't been sure until I'd heard Harry's voice on Draco's mobile.
We placed our order with the barman, and I turned to Ron, chuckling.
"Can you believe he calls him kitten?" I asked, shaking my head incredulously.
"No!" Ron replied immediately, looking just as flabbergasted as I was.
"Harry's bloody well over the moon if he's allowing that," he informed me, shaking his head, clearly just as stunned as I was that Draco Malfoy called Harry fucking Potter kitten.
Apparently often.
"I've got a feeling they're both bloody well over the moon," I admitted as the barman handed us our pints.
"Again," Ron shook his head, grabbing three pints. "I never would have guessed, but it does kind of make sense, I suppose."
I nodded, following him back to the table.
"Thin line between love and hate, hmm?"
"Well, what have we missed?" Ron asked, placing his pints on the table and settling back into his seat.
"Nothing," Hermione replied, grabbing one of the pints. "I mean, aside from these two being adorable."
She grinned across the table to where Harry was still leaning back against Draco, Draco's head resting atop Harry's head, his hands settled on Harry's thighs, deep in conversation with Pansy.
"Are not," Draco argued immediately, never mind the fact that Harry was, even now, tilting his head up and back for a kiss.
A kiss which Draco, obviously, indulged, and I couldn't help but chuckle and feel a bit nostalgic for those early days when Anaïs and I had been so madly in love.
Don't get me wrong.
We were still madly in love, but after six years and two young ones at home, we were decidedly less open with our affection.
Maybe I'd have to take some steps to change that, I mused, taking a sip of my pint.
"So, now that Blaise and Ron are back," Pansy smiled at us, pulling her pint towards her.
"I still want to know how this adorableness came to be," she gestured at them. "I get the first fuck, sure.
"And, my guess is that you two continued, because Harry, Luv, you were in a 'certain mood,' and Draco, having that... how did you put it?... That bloody fabulous cock..." she trailed off, taking a sip of her pint.
"Pansy, please!" Ron groaned, making a show of plugging his ears.
"But when did it become something more?" Pansy asked, ignoring Ron's pleas.
"Get to the interesting part," she urged, taking another sip of her pint.
"I don't know what information you're looking for," Draco frowned.
For once, I actually believed him.
"I mean... we fucked once. And then it happened again," he took a sip of his pint.
"And then, suddenly, we were fucking, and now we are fucking, and now we'll continue to fuck until..." he trailed off and grinned down at Harry.
"Merlin, Draco, are you getting paid to say the word fuck?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes as the two leaned in for another kiss.
"Yes," Harry replied without missing a beat. "With blowjobs. From me."
He smirked across the table at her as he lifted his glass to his lips.
"Fuck," Draco picked up immediately, and Ron and I both burst out laughing as he leaned over to nuzzle Harry's ear.
"Fuck," he murmured again, kissing Harry gently on the mouth.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
Each expletive was punctuated with another kiss, and I had to roll my eyes.
Draco had never been subtle or one to shy away from public displays, at least where his men were concerned.
"Bloody hell, there might be a chance for the Canons to win the League yet," Ron interjected gleefully.
"Excuse me?" Harry demanded, turning away from one last uttered expletive and kiss.
He fixed his mate with his best mock glare and raised an eyebrow indignantly.
"You're going to have to sit the rest of the season out," Ron reasoned.
"The team's going to think you've caught some sort of plague, what, with all those blow jobs you're going to be giving," he added.
Harry, bless him, looked on the verge of spraying his drink all over the table as Draco leaned closer across the table towards Ron.
"You're welcome," he said, grinning. "The Cannons win! Victory, by blow job."
"And I suppose I'll just have to get used to you arriving at work just in the nick of time, looking as though you've just rolled out of bed," Hermione chimed in.
"Happened twice this past week, and that was before Harry was paying Draco to say fuck with blowjobs."
That crude sentence coming from the mouth of Hermione Granger-Weasley was enough to set the whole table laughing again.
"Draco? Dishevelled in public?" Pansy sounded sceptical, and I lifted my pint to my lips, already anticipating her reaction to what I was about to share.
"He was even late last week."
Pansy's reaction was priceless.
"Draco. Lucius. Malfoy." She stated, for the second time that night, jaw dropping, eyes widening, one hand clutching at her necklace in exaggerated surprise.
"You were late? For work?!"
She smirked over in Potter's direction.
"Merlin, Harry, no wonder you're settling debts with that pretty mouth of yours," she purred. "It must be bloody fantastic. Do a girl a favour and share a few tips sometime, hmm?"
Her gaze slanted back my way, and she grinned slyly.
"Blaise, Luv, how late was our dear, young Draco?"
Even though we were only older than Draco by mere months, Pansy enjoyed emphasising our being older and, thus, wiser and worthy of Draco's respect on account of being his elders.
Draco, of course, enjoyed telling her exactly where she could shove this opinion.
I ignored Draco's pained expression and subsequent eye-roll and set my pint down to glance over at Hermione.
"How many minutes was it?" I asked, pretending to be deep in thought. "No, wait. It was over an hour, wasn't it?"
"You two are the absolute worst mates a bloke could ask for," Draco grumbled, crossing his arms in front of him and actually pouting, bless him.
"Seriously, Draco?!" I demanded, leaning forward and peering around Potter to look him in the eye.
"Potter's two sidekicks literally just took the piss out of him about sitting on the sidelines on account of having his mouth constantly wrapped around your cock!
"You want me to be the actual worst mate a bloke could have, I can up the ante and absolutely do that!" I threatened, mostly in jest.
Laughter bubbled up around the table, and when I went to take a sip of my pint, I somehow managed to slosh it all down my front.
Classic. Bloody. Draco.
I flipped him the bird and glared.
"Dry me off, wanker," I demanded.
Draco smirked, and seconds later, my shirt and trousers were clean and dry.
"Do you do that often?" Hermione asked suddenly.
There was an almost imperceptible pause before Draco replied.
"Not really," he shrugged, not quite meeting Hermione's gaze.
"That afternoon, when we had lunch," Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You made Tristan spill his pint all over himself, didn't you."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco replied, purposely avoiding her gaze, not even trying to sound innocent or contrite.
"You had lunch with Tristan?" Harry asked, frowning first at Draco and then Hermione.
"Not on purpose, I assure you," Draco muttered, taking a sip of his pint.
"We were at St. John's for lunch," Hermione explained. "That Saturday when we got called in."
"Draco!" Pansy glared at him. "You hexed a Muggle? Do you know how illegal that is? Don't expect me to come saving your arse when you get summoned to court for hexing Muggles because they managed to pull a bloke you fancy."
"Oh, he had no idea," Draco assured her nonchalantly as he rolled his eyes. "He's boring and simple and would never have the imagination to come up with the idea that wizards are real, much less figure out that I'm one of them and that I hexed him."
I glanced at Harry, as did everyone else, seeing what his reaction to Draco's rather callous description of Tristan would be.
Harry snorted as he lowered his pint.
"Right, 'cause we all know Draco here always pulls for the scintillating morning-after conversation," he retorted. "Anyway, I only went with him to make Draco jealous."
"Well, it worked," Hermione assured us all, smirking over at Draco.
"Draco was having trouble concentrating for some reason," she informed us all, winking. "Had to take him to lunch because we were getting absolutely nothing done in the office."
"Distracting Draco from work, Potter," Pansy drawled, staring at Potter in mock surprise. "That's positively unheard of."
"Pretty sure I still bear the scars from trying to deter Draco from reading or studying to play Exploding Snap at school," I agreed, grinning over at Draco. "You've thrown a mean Flipendo since First year."
"And took perverse enjoyment in making sure your intended target flew backwards into a wall or crashed into a table or something painful, you endearing, insufferable, little prat," Pansy added, smiling fondly at him.
"Who's to say I don't still take perverse enjoyment in punishing those who distract me?" Draco asked coolly, raising an eyebrow at Pansy while a most delightful blush rose in Potter's cheeks, and I turned my attention to him.
"Potter," I cooed. "Whatever could be making you blush so prettily?"
I rested my chin in my palm and gave him my most beguiling smile.
Ron and Hermione had also noticed and were staring at their friend, one with a decidedly un-Gryffindor smirk, the other with the oddest mixture of mirth and apprehension.
"Harry, you're not really trying to distract Draco from his research at home, are you?" Hermione asked incredulously.
Even Granger, it seemed, understood the dangers of distracting Draco from his work.
The red in Potter's cheeks flared, and he muttered:
"I don't try...."
At the same instant, Draco huffily insisted:
"The research gets done."
Ron broke the awkward silence that ensued by bursting out laughing.
"Well, blimey," he laughed. "I've always wanted you to find someone special and bring him round to meet us for pints... would've never guessed in a million years it'd be bloody Malfoy, but," he paused and raised his glass.
Hermione, Pansy, and I all followed suit.
"I think we can all agree that Mr Dragon-Prick here and you are oddly perfect."
"Here! Here!" cried Hermione as we clinked our pints together and toasted our mates.
"Thanks, Ron," Draco said, eyes meeting Rons with a genuine smile, as Harry, whose blush was so intense that he now resembled a tomato, groaned and buried his face into Draco's neck, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.
"Well," Draco continued, hand rubbing soothing circles across Harry's back.
"I think Kitten here's revealed enough for one evening," he drawled, smirking at us all as Harry's head popped up to stare at him, then all of us incredulously.
"Better get home so we can rest."
"You told them you call me kitten?" Harry hissed, eyes returning to Draco, all but shooting fire.
"It was on my mobile," Draco explained cautiously, seeming to realise his misstep.
"Your flat. Now." Harry managed to grind out, standing and all but dragging Draco from the pub without another word or glance at any of us.
Draco allowed himself to be towed out, turning to give us all one last beseeching glance before the pair disappeared out the door.
"Well," Pansy gulped, looking at all of us. "It appears our little darlings are about to have their first row."
"I think we'd all better get home and await the aftermath," Hermione agreed, and we all stood to leave.
"Well," Ron mused as we made our way to the entrance. "I'm still happy for our kitten and your dragon, even if this is going to be a bloody long weekend for us all."
And, with that bit of levity to lift our spirits, we parted ways and went home, each awaiting the frantic, angry, distressed texts of SOS from our spirited little duo that were sure to arrive next morning.