Draco scanned the dance floor with veiled disinterest. He had been coming to this same disco in Muggle London for several years. At first, it was because he needed an avenue to pursue his sexual interests in a forum where he was just as unknown as the next bloke. He didn't want anyone to realize who he was and go squealing to the media, not to mention his parents, that he wasn't as straight as he pretended to be. Later, it was because he'd grown to love the thumping pulse of the music and flashing lights, something the wizarding world seemed to woefully lack, paired with so much bare flesh on display. Now, he was just growing bored with it.

The problem was, of course, that he'd had everyone here already. Well, everyone worth having, at any rate. He kept an opulent flat nearby to bring his conquests to, at his roommate's insistence, because the Italian wizard knew just how loud he could be. That, and he happened to know how loud Blaise and his long-time girlfriend, Pansy, could be. He shuddered at the thought. As much as he loved Pans like a sister, the idea of a naked woman was about as effective as a cold shower at cooling his libido.

Breaking himself from his silent reverie, he downed the rest of his drink without tasting it, the scotch burning a path down his throat. Still, compared to Firewhiskey, it was damn smooth, even if it was middle-shelf quality liquor, at best. It was Friday night, and the well drinks were stronger than usual.

As he sidled back up to the bar, he noticed a fresh face out of the corner of his eye, and allowed his gaze to linger a few moments longer than he'd meant to. He was on the short side and lanky, looking somewhat awkward amongst the crush of people. Clearly his first time at the club. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans that seems to be molded to the shape of his arse, round and perfect, with a fitted t-shirt stretched tight across his stomach. Not overly flashy, and not someone you'd usually look twice at, but there was something familiar in the way he held himself that had him suddenly making his way over.

When he finally he finally made his way through the crush of gyrating bodies, he gave him a confident tap on the shoulder,

"Hey, buy you a drink?" He'd ask, before the guy could finish turning around.

Brown eyes lifted to meet silver, a look of surprised recognition in them. "Malfoy? The fuck are you doing here?"

Alwyn stared at him, blinking as if to wake himself from some bizarre dream. When he'd come to Muggle London to get away from his family for a bit, he'd hardly expected to run into Draco Malfoy, of all people. And yet, the surprise wasn't entirely unpleasant. He had become something delightful to look at over the years. Tall and rugged,with his lithe formed wrapped in expertly-tailored Muggle clothes. Mouth suddenly dry, he had the desire to bolt, but knew that he'd only be chased.

"Excuse me? Who're you, and how do you know my name?"

"I... er... We went to school together, though you may not remember. I've changed a bit since then."

Draco's brow furrowed, wracking his brain to come up with a name to match those familiar eyes. He wanted to interrogate him, of course, as he had no recollection of anyone matching his description attending Hogwarts, and he certainly would've remembered. Presumptuously, he snagged him by the arm, yanking him into a back corridor, where he apparated with a crack that wasn't noticed over the volume of the club.

As soon as they had reappeared, Alwyn yanked his arm away, pulling with such force that he managed to fall to his knees. Which was just as well, as his stomach had used the side-along apparition as a fine excuse to revolt against all the drinks he'd been bought throughout the evening. A few long moments later, he drew his wand, still propped on hands and knees, and vanished the mess. He then turned his gaze to glare up at Draco, who peered down with resigned disgust.

"That was incredibly rude, even for you," Alywn said, as he drew himself up off the floor. A quick glance around showed what he had already assumed; they were no longer at the bar, and appeared to be at his place.

"Not as rude as someone you don't know sicking up all over your sitting room, I'd say." Draco retorted with a sneer.

"Which was your fault for surprising me like that!" He exclaimed, then sighed, the alcohol beginning to catch up to him. "Why don't you interrogate me as you'd planned, so I can get back to my flat and make an early night of it?"

"Fine," responded Draco, seemingly distrustful of the sudden civility."Let's start with your name. Clearly, you already know mine."

"Alwyn Granger."

Draco's brow furrowed. "Any relation to Hermione Granger?"

"You could say that, yes," he responded with a smirk.

"A younger brother, perhaps?"

"No, I'm an only child."

"Then..?"

"Oh, no. Nothing is for free," Alwyn chided playfully, fiddling with a ring on his right index finger. "Just what were you doing in a gay bar in muggle London, of all places? Did you lose a bet or something?"

"Yes, that's exactly what it was," Draco said, a bit defensively. "I lost a bet and wound up there, and realized I didn't half mind the music. It was... different." Not to mention the scenery.

Alwyn chuckled softly, "that's a lie. But then again, I knew it would be when I asked." At his expression, he smirked. "Oh, calm down. You've always been a wretched liar, and I've always been very observant. They didn't used to call me the cleverest witch of my age for nothing, you know."