[banner by DropsofJupiter] It's been nearly several years post-war since Harry quietly walked away from the wizarding world. When he re emerges, he reluctantly finds himself on his old savior kick, his best mate in the spotlight, and his childhood enemy...now masterminding Harry's future???

“I thought you’d like to play a small game while we wait,” Draco proposed, looking pointedly at Tori. “Are you in?” // Inwardly, Tori snorted, even though she had no idea what Firewhiskey was, figuring it was just a type of whiskey. “Of course,” she answered disdainfully, hating how he insinuated she wasn’t up to what the rest of them were.

Tori froze, unable to turn and look at Chanel; her face started to burn. That was the reason for the secrecy? Was this her idea of a joke? Tori’s legs felt like Jell-O. How could Chanel have done this? Oh, God, oh, God, oh God..no...I wasn’t going to do this, I wasn’t going to do anything about it…She managed to turn to Chanel, her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Tori inhaled sharply, suddenly very unsure of what she had just done. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, as if a scene frozen in time suddenly sprang back to life, his mouth crashed into hers so forcefully that they hit the adjoining wall with a loud thud.

The gleaming whiteness of his shirt dazzled like snow, a silk white knot tied smartly at his throat. He was in dressed impeccably in an elegant black waist coat and pants, his leather shoes like polished oil. His corn-silk hair was pressed from his face, not a strand out of place. And his eyes, taking her in with a look she could not describe. “Portkey,” she managed hotly, liquid anger flooding her veins. His brow jutted in mild surprise at her fury. "Portkey," he confirmed quietly.

Chanel gauged the twins suspiciously. “Fred…George,” she pronounced, shifting from left to right. “Ron.” There was a soft jut of her brow as her gaze roved slowly over him. “You’re looking...sturdy these days.”

“Weasley.” Her mouth parted. “Wh-what?” she said breathlessly. “Weasley,” he repeated. He then suddenly broke into a playful sneer. “You have their smell on you. It’ll probably take weeks to scrub off.”

You've a voracious appetite, Mr. Malfoy." She abruptly swung away, her arm flaring slightly at her side. Draco eyed her as they both suddenly turned on their heels and stepped tightly in the opposite direction. He tugged her wrist harder than necessary to bring her close. “I'm a growing boy, Ms. Steele,” he growled, leaning back slowly.

An icy smile slowly twisted Pansy’s rouged lips as she slinked towards Ron. “Frankly, it's me who's surprised.” She gave her head a slight tilt, her dark hair shifting to one side. “How did you manage to survive after your poor father took his unfortunate spill during the war, Weasley? Oh, that's right! I heard your entire family took to begging in the streets, but's not too far off from before, now is it?”

“A dance?” Ron asked, confused. “I don’t care about a dance, I was talking about a relationship, or dates, if you’ve kissed Malfoy or…” his voice dropped off, not wanting to go any further. Chanel’s mind reeled. Where is he coming up with this stuff? She pressed a hand over her stomach, feeling a twisting nauseous flip. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she murmured.

On the dial of Ron’s watch, the first hand settled on Hotel as the second hand sped toward Now and hovered on it. "Ron," Harry said absently, the low buzz easily distracting his mild perusing. "Your watch." "Huh?" Ron answered, never taking his eyes away from what he was looking at. "Your...watch." Harry replied again, moving to another display and staring somewhat thoughtfully. He shoved his hands in his pockets, vaguely eyeing the display that Ron was scrutinizing with almost the same intensity of a Quidditch final.

Ron was a step behind Harry in two strides. "Did you know?" was all he said, his voice quiet and hushed.
Harry glanced apologetically over his shoulder. "I just found out today. It was in the newspaper."
Ron's jaw clenched quickly. "And is she…"
"Yes," Harry said quickly, as if to lessen the news.
Ron took an uneven breath. "Have you heard from her?"
Harry just shook his head. But after a minute, he asked, "You alright?"

He took a breath before answering, feeling his courage desert him, "I know it's a Muggle saying: What you're doing at the stroke of midnight is…what you'll be doing all year."

She tried to stare at him uncomprehendingly for another second, but broke into a smile, the silly grin again. "I know that."

Harry exhaled, narrowing his eyes at her. "You're trying to embarrass me on purpose."

"I think I did," she said sarcastically. "And that's for the…the thing. Portkey."

...Draco Malfoy, proud papa(?)
...Mrs. Weasley, Ron and The Talk...

...Guess who's coming to tea...