Friday, 3 January 2003

“You need to get out more.”

“I was literally just out of the country, Blaise.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Blaise said with a wave of his hand. “You’ve be so…”

“What?” Draco snapped.

“Boring,” Blaise said with a semi-disgusted look on his face.

“Hate to break it to you, Draco,” Pansy chimed in, picking up a scone and breaking it apart, “but he’s right.” She wrinkled her nose as she scanned the little serving containers Draco had placed on the table. “Why is raspberry always the only jam in your house?”

“You know it’s my fav—Pansy!”

“What, nobody else is eating the scones,” she said as she dipped it into the jam.

“What would your mother say?” Blaise quipped.

“I don’t give a damn. And don’t change the subject, Draco! All you ever do these days is hole yourself up in the Manor with a bunch of paperwork. It’s so boring,” she said.

“Excuse me for having a job,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not a job,” Pansy remarked. “It would be if you earned money. But you don’t. I don’t even know why you’re doing it.”

“I’m not going to explain it to you again,” Draco shot back. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

e out with us tomorrow night,” Blaise proposed, a suspicious glint in his eyes.

“Definitely not,” Draco said, picking at his croissant.

“Told ya,” Pansy said, smirking at Blaise. She traced the rim of her teacup with one of her perfectly manicured fingers. “Merlin forbid something interferes with his daily moping. His life has be so mundane.”

Blaise sniggered while Draco grit his teeth. He hated when Pansy talked about him as if he wasn’t there. But he knew exactly why she was doing it. She was trying to irritate him, provoke him, so he’d say yes to their proposal just to prove them wrong. Well, she could try all she wanted.

“It’s just drinks, Draco,” Blaise said.

“What’s the big deal? We’re having drinks right now,” Draco pointed out.

“Tea doesn’t count,” Pansy said, shaking her head. “And it definitely doesn’t count if you don’t leave the house.”

e on, it’ll be fun,” Blaise grinned.

“I doubt that.” Draco leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Boring,” Pansy said in a sing-song voice, pursing her lips as she took a sip of tea.

“Draco,” Blaise began, making Draco groan. “Juste for one drink. If you don’t like it—”

“Let him be, Blaise,” Pansy interjected. “It’s no use if he doesn’t want to.”

Blaise scowled at Pansy, muttering “Traitor” under his breath.

“Finally,” Draco said with a smirk.

“Honestly, you’d probably be ufortable there anyway,” Pansy said in a bored tone.

“Why?”

“We’re meeting Finnigan and Thomas,” she said,pletely nonchalant. “And they said something about a few other people they’d invite, too.”

“You’re meeting Finnigan and Thomas? For drinks?” Draco asked, incredulously. “But…why?”

“Surprisingly, they’re pretty fun to be around,” Blaise shrugged.

“But…since when are you hanging out with them?”

“We don’t. We ran into each other on New Year’s and thought it might be fun to do it again.”

Draco looked at his friends in bewilderment. What the fuck had happened while he had been in France? He had been gone for a week, a week, and now his friends were in liaison with two former Gryffindors?

“Who else ising?” Draco asked suspiciously.

“I’m not sure,” Pansy said. “But I’m guessing they’ll bring some of their mates.”

Some of their mates. Did that include Potter? Draco had no idea if he was still close with Finnigan and Thomas. All the more reason not to go, he decided. The last thing he needed right now was seeing Potter in his natural habitat; relaxed, amongst his friends, making jokes, laughing…

“Is something wrong?” Blaise asked, and Draco realised he’d been frowning. He shook his head and continued picking at his croissant. He shouldn’t go. He really shouldn’t. But… what if Blaise flirted with Potter again? What if Potter got so sloshed, he’d suddenly be receptive to Blaise’s wooing? Draco could just picture it; the two of them sitting so close their thighs were touching, Blaise’s hand on Potter’s knee under the table, Blaise whispering something in Potter’s ear, making him chuckle, Blaise leaning in at the end of the night, when they were outside, saying good night…

“One drink,” Draco snapped. “Just one drink.”

Blaise and Pansy exchanged a look, their expressions turning irritatingly smug.

“Told ya,” Pansy said, winking at Blaise, who started sniggering into his tea.

It took a second for Draco to realise what had just happened.

“I hate you both,” he growled, stuffing the rest of the croissant into his mouth, ignoring their laughter.

They had totally played him.

Saturday, 4 January 2003

“And then the goat just ran away!”

Draco scowled as some of Blaise’s firewhiskey landed on his trousers. He didn’t seem to notice as he was seized with mad laughter, slapping his knee. Everyone was laughing, Draco noticed. He had no idea what Thomas’ story had been about, he hadn’t listened to a word. Instead, his eyes had been glued to the door. It was after ten and Potter still hadn’t shown up. Was he evening? Draco didn’t want to ask, but felt a mixture of anticipation, disappointment and fury. Granger and Weasley were here, so where the fuck was Potter?

“Are you not satisfied with your wine?”

Draco jerked and turned to his left, blinking at Luna.

“Um, no, it’s fine. Why?”

“Because you keep scowling at it,” she said with a smile. Draco made a nonmittal sound in the back of his throat and took a swig.

“I guess I’ve had better,” he said.

“You want to try this?” She held up her deep purple drink, which was steaming. A bunch of fruit had been placed on the rim, almost concealing the colourful straw.

“No, thanks,” Draco said, making a face.

“You might like it,” she smiled. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Draco restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He had a feeling she would keep pestering him unless he gave it a go. Wrinkling his nose, he bent forward to take the straw between his lips. Huh. It wasn’t so bad. Not bad at all, actually. His expression must have given him away, since Luna beamed at him.

“See,” she said. Draco almost smiled before the door opened and his eyes darted over to the person who had just stepped in. Not Potter. Draco gritted his teeth, berating himself for being so foolish. This was not good. He was a grown man. A sessful, aplished grown man. So howe Harry bloody Potter made him feel like a little boy whose candy had just been taken away from him? This was so not good.

“I’ll get the next round,” he announced, rising from his seat.

“I’ll join you,” Luna said.

Great, Draco thought. Apparently, the pestering was about to continue. They made their way to the bar together with Draco only glancing at the door once.

“Are you afraid someone you don’t like will show up?” Luna asked. Draco blinked, feeling caught but also unsure how to answer that. “It’s okay,” she continued. “You don’t have to like everyone, you know.”

Draco snorted and turned his attention to the bartender. While the bloke was busy preparing their drinks, Draco peered over at Luna, who was smiling at him. This girl was very hard to figure out. He didn’t have to like everyone? Nobody here liked him. Except for Blaise and Pansy. And on some days, he wasn’t even sure they really did.

“I heard something interesting about you the other day,” Luna said. Draco froze. Uh-oh. This couldn’t be good. “A friend of mine works at a non-profitanisation here in London.” UH-OH! “I think you know her. Her name’s Stacey. She said—”

“She must have confused me with somebody else,” Draco said hastily.

Luna cocked her head. “I…didn’t even say she saw you.”

“Oh.” Damn it!

Luna leaned closer to him and dropped her voice. “Do you not want anyone to know?” she asked. Draco stayed silent, pressing his lips together. “That’s okay,” she said. “But I really like what you’re doing. I think that’s a very good way to redeem yourself.”

Draco made a choking sound. Was this girl for real? She didn’t seem to mean it in a sarcastic way.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Before he could stop himself, Draco laughed. “No, nothing’s wrong.” He drummed his fingers on the bar as he watched Luna play with a strand of her hair. “Why are you here?” he asked after a while.

“Going out with friends is nice,” she shrugged. “I never—”

“No,” he interrupted her. “I mean, why did youe with me?”

“Oh, I thought you might like somepany,” she said and smiled again. Something about her smile made Draco nervous. It was too genuine, too sweet, too understanding. “You looked kind of sad.”

“Sad?” Draco echoed, raising an eyebrow. Why would she think that? “I’m not—”

His eyes involuntarily flickered over to the door, which had just been opened again. His breath caught in his throat as everything around him suddenly seemed to be happening in slow motion. Potter was smiling, his eyes lighting up as he caught sight of his friends. He raked his fingers through his hair, which was sprinkled with snow. Draco’s eyes widened. His cheeks were red from the cold, and he was wrapped in a thick black wool coat that made him look far more sophisticated than Draco knew he was.

Draco’s eyes followed his every move as he squeezed Weasley’s shoulder and went on to greet the rest of the group. Thank Merlin Draco wasn’t there right now. He quickly turned back to Luna, who had a curious look on her face.

“I need to go to the loo,” Draco announced and hurried away. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, his reflection staring back at him, flushed and a little startled. He should go home now. Nothing good woulde out of going back to that table. He’d only be torturing himself. No, his mind corrected, Potter would be torturing him. All of this was Potter’s fault. That bastard! How dare he!

Draco’s eyes narrowed as he willed his cheeks to pale again. No, he wouldn’t give Potter that much power. He would go out there and prove he could stand up to him. Maybe he’d even find Potter wasn’t that great at all. Because, really, he wasn’t. He was just an annoying prat, with his annoying hair, his annoying eyes, his annoying voice, his annoying dimples, his annoying—Ugh!

Draco squared his shoulders as he walked back to the table. Granger was telling a story, it appeared.

“Potter,” Draco said, forcing his voice to sound low. A few heads turned, including Potter’s. He was looking at Draco as if he had been waiting to see him. Momentarily taken aback, Draco cleared his throat before he spoke again. “You’re in my seat,” he said flatly.

“Oh,” Potter replied, eloquently, making no move to get up. He looked around, took out his wand and flicked it once. Draco gasped as he was suddenly knocked off his feet, only to find himself sitting in a chair, wedged between Luna and Potter. “There you go,” the prat said, grinning, before he turned his attention back to Granger.

What the fuck! How was Draco supposed to act dignified when this was what he had to put up with?

He automatically reached fo

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