It isn't a dark and stormy night. And as I write these words a portentous clap of thunder doesn't shake the foundations of a gloomy stone castle in Romania. Let us make this quite clear. It is instead a rather humid evening in Magnolia Crescent, Little Whinging, Surrey.
This evening is unusual for two reasons, it's the longest night in the summer and Harry Potter's scar is not hurting. This itself is a miracle in itself, or fate, for this is the one day in summer when Harry Potter should be warned.
For on this warm summer night when our two worlds brush lightly together, the veil is penetrable even by the weakest of minds and magic surges through the earth, evil is abroad, and for once, it is not wearing leather pants. This also is a miracle as in a universe filled with strange and twisted minds it is rare one finds Draco Xavier Malfoy without the company of 3 dozen young ladies (or men) and not wearing clothing of a highly: cough: inappropriate nature.
So one may say that this night is marked by the gods, which gods they may be, or whether these foresaid gods are in complete control of all mental facilities is doubtful.
Draco Malfoy kicked at a soda can furiously as it rattled along frightening a rat that let out a squeak and disappeared into a trash can, he shuddered.
He hated rats, the manor was full of them and there was nothing as disconcerting as coming upon a room full of house elves playing their favorite pastime 'pass the rat'.
Plus, the strange material of his pants felt weird as well, not as free as his robes. Though they did make him look good accenting and nicely complimenting the curve of his gluteus maximus, it was, he decided, a good thing that Narcissa always made such a fuss of giving the prisoner's clothes to charity. All he'd had to to do was nip down to the dungeons and pick up a pair of clothes.
Lucky Aunt Bella had been through, father usually only stocked virgins. Good for his psyche he says, hah. Draco laughed hoarsely, and then decided that he wouldn't do that because it hurt his vocal cords and he, being the god that he was needed to keep a dangerously silky baritone perfect for murmuring sweet nothings into egg shell shape ears.
It was, he realized, getting dark, and somehow after leaving the house he hadn't really had any idea of what to do next, although he'd had some idea about blonde bombshells, red convertibles, and sunsets.
Spotting a children's playground he nipped over the fence, not to hastily, because his pants were rather tight, and inconvenience was obviously second to fashion.
He hadn't been in a playground in ages, his father having long since torn down the old wizarding one his mum had built to help with his mental development and replaced it with a Young Deatheater Training Facility complete with fake decapitated Harry Potters that spewed real blood.
It obviously wasn't the same without magic, but still, it vaguely resembled the park of his childhood so he sat down on a swing.
So this was the muggle world he thought, it was not, on the whole, as bad as he had thought it would be. Admittedly, the trees could do some work and people could be a lot politer when addressing a Malfoy, but definitely not as bad as the horror stories that his father had raised him on.
His favorite had been the giant sewer rat of Paris, he hadn't been able to sleep in his own bed for weeks. It reeked for one thing.
Harry was skulking around Magnolia Crescent, the summer had been slightly better than the last one. Meaning that while the Dursley's were terrified even to crack jokes about closets or cupboards they treated him as if he had a permanent disillusionment charm on him. Which was all very well if you were nicking scotch from the pantry, but got a bit boring when you wanted to watch a bit of telly that wasn't in Spanish.
Instead, he'd been forced to sit through an entire summer of the American show the O.C. which at intervals consisted of Aunt Petunia using up entire boxes of tissues and yelling at the characters on the screen in words that even a decent dirty minded school boy wouldn't have used.
Admittedly, he had gotten attached to the damn thing, and he was partly sulking because the season finale was on and he had been kicked out of the house to make sure he didn't ruin Dinky Duddums b-day party, he'd still been forced to wear a party hat though.
Because, as Uncle Vernon said, it covered his gawdawful hair.
As he came around the bend in the road he saw his destination in sight, the old playground had been out of use for years since the people in Magnolia Crescent either slept in separate beds or were far to old to have any more children, not that they had wanted the first one to tell the truth.
And the children that frequented the block were too cool to be seen at a playground except for the purpose of vandalizing it, and there wasn't a square inch of open plastic left anywhere.
Harry had made it his secret hide out, having stashed several bottles of whisky behind the hole in the tennis wall. He suspected it had been made by accidental magic because, unless you knew where to look it was impossible to see.
Spotting a blonde head amongst the swings he sighed, he'd have to drive this person off. They were probably new, since most of the block kids were at Dudley's party terrified out of their minds.
'Hello there' He said pretending to be genial, 'New?'
The person swung round startled, 'Yes, I mean-POTTER!'
Harry blinked. He was hallucinating, he had to be hallucinating. He blinked again, the apparition was still there.
'Fucking Circe' He swore of all the people to show up in magnolia crescent it had to be Draco I Fucked My Aunt Malfoy. He sidled up to the figure, hoping that if he kept sideways it would disappear.
He reached out tentatively and pinched the translucent white skin. The figure punched him the stomach, 'Holy shite Potter, get your fucking soiled hands off of me!'
'Malfoy' He whispered horrified. 'Yes, it bloody well is, you PINCHED me'
Harry tried to regain his composure.
'What are you doing here Malfoy. Are you here, on some kind of' He sneered, 'Mission'
'I don't have to explain myself to you, Potter' Draco said heatedly.
'Yes you do, oh yes you do Malfoy' Harry pulled out his wand pointing it at Draco's face, 'This is my turf Malfoy, and you're on it'
'And what makes it yours, pissing rights Potter?'
Harry leaned in, 'Listen Malfoy, I'm the only witch or wizard for a radius of 10 miles, if I do something to you, nobody is going to know. My wand has a dampener on it because of your Boss, and nobody can track which spells I use' He grinned maliciously.
'Get it?'
'Ouch…kinky. You like it rough, don't you Potter?' Draco drawled, 'And no I'm not here on a 'mission', and I don't have to explain myself to you.'
Harry after wincing somewhat at Draco's lewd comment said stiffly, 'You heard what I said Malfoy, explain why you're here of all places'
'I ran away' Malfoy shrugged, 'For some reason there's a direct bus route from our manor to this part of town. Don't look so delighted Potter, I'm not staying long'
Harry silently thanked god, 'So…plan on moving any time soon Malfoy?' He asked.
'No' Draco said, swinging gently, 'Leave Malfoy' Harry threatened, 'Potter, you curse me, I'll use my wand…which doesn't have a dampener on it, and even Wonder Boy can't get away with a preemptive attack on another student'
'Fine Malfoy' Harry said brushing him off.
Harry retrieved his bottles from the nook in the corner and opened one spreading out his text books in front of him, he saw out of the corner of his eye Malfoy eyeing the bottle.
'Care for a sip?' He asked holding out the bottle, the sooner Malfoy got drunk the sooner he would leave.
Draco looked at it suspiciously, 'Are you sure the stuff isn't poisoned?'
'Look at it this way Malfoy' Harry said taking a long swig, 'The stuff'll kill you anyway'
"Hit me baby, one more time! Hit me baby oneeeeeeeeeeee more time" Draco sang loudly swinging his hands, leaning hard against Harry. Harry hastily backed up. He decided firmly that he was sworn off alcohol, orange juice seemed like a safe alternative, or cocoa.
Hit me Baby…
Wait a second…
"Hey, Malfoy, that's a muggle song" Harry said confused.
"S'not!" Malfoy protested loudly, now breaking raucously into the chorus." "HIT ME BABY!" He sang.
"Gladly" Harry palmed his face. Oh, the humiliation of it all, he nodded weakly at a pretty blonde who passed him swinging a blue purse from her shoulder disdainfully.
"S'not" Draco muttered catching up with the conversation rather late, and shaking his head furiously at the brick wall on his left. "Heard it at meh Auntie Androme's house, bad cook s'is. Big BURP".
"Your Aunt Andromeda married a muggle, Malfoy" replied Harry testily at having been brushed off by a Paris Hilton look alike, Malfoy raised a pale silver eyebrow and stumbled back on his left leg, jabbing an accusing finger in Harry's chest.
"I know, I KNOW" He whispered tapping the side of his nose "I know".
"That's Britney Spearce, she's muggle, trust me"
Malfoy wrinkled his nose staring up at the starry night sky.
"Muggle, You's says? No wonder Pop threw such a fit, he never dangled me off north tower 'fore"
"He dangled you off the north tower?" "Yep, only 'cause Mum's restoring the East Tower, he said, he said to me 'Draco, I dunno want those poor workmen to see my pitiful 'scuse for a son in his boxers, people will talk he said"
Harry stared at Malfoy blankly. There was a silence and then Draco's voice was heard again in the night air, this time quite clearly. "Uh, Potter, you don't think my dad listens to Britney Spearce do you?" He asked, apparently sobered up by this disturbing thought.
Harry gave the image his full attention. Lucius Malfoy, home from a day of torturing muggles. He walks into his bathroom, strips down to his lavender boxers, and turns on the hot shower, as the drops of water hit his back like boiling oil he starts wiggling around and shaking his arse crooning 'Hit me baby one more time,' using his hair gel bottle as a microphone.
Now, there are two things wrong with this image, can you figure them out?
He winced from the mental image, "Er…no, no, I don't think so"
Grateful, Draco sank back into his stupor "S'good, S'good, think Maroon 5's more up his trousers"
Harry gaped in horror at Draco as a new onslaught of spew inducing images hit his mind, "Please Malfoy, stop with the nasty mental images, I beg of you."
Great, he thought grimly, I'm going to have dreams about Lucius Malfoy singing She Will Be Loved. Dreams? Put those down as nightmares there, mate.
Draco tumbled to a stop outside yet another pub, this one called the Krusty Clown, "Happy Hour 10-3" he read "Aye, Potty, me mate, w'as the time laddy?"
Harry looked at his watch, it was 11:19, not that it mattered, he was already in as deep shit as he could be.
Draco tugged on his arm "C'mon, Potty" "NO! Draco, sober up!" Harry told the blond haired boy strictly. He breathed in deeply and tried to look like Snape on a bad day (He ended up merely looking constipated, which while no less frightening did not have the desired effect), he had absolutely zero desire to go into another pub.
"Don't wanna" Draco pouted making puppy eyes as another couple of fellow drunks waltzed in ahead of them.
In any other situation Harry would have thought he'd said that in a mocking voice, but he was stone drunk…or was he?
Suspicion gleamed in the dark.
Don't be stupid, he just spent the last 3 hours drinking straight scotch insisted a voice in his head. Yes, but this was Malfoy, he could have just cast a sobrieutus spell.
Suspicion clouded Harry's mind, slightly distracted by the sight of Draco Malfoy making puppy eyes. Supposing…supposing this was all a trap, a a ruse meaning to lure him into a pub! And what, get him drunk illegally scoffed the cynical part of his brain disparagingly.
But then he remembered, Britney Spearce, no, no Malfoy in his right mind would sing pop even if it meant killing Harry, conquering the known world, or kissing Pamela Anderson, nope he was just in the presence of an inebriated Malfoy.
This thought was not a great comfort.
"BARMAN!" Draco commanded imperiously striking the green wood majestically with his hand.
The man at the bar turned to look at them. He was a tall burly man with a small mustache and a towel thrown over his shoulder, his eyebrows were raised, "Yes?" he asked with the drawl of someone who has had 100s of underage drinkers in his pub before, and who didn't particularly care the first time.
Harry mused, perhaps Draco---Malfoy had somekind of special ability to find pubs where people would ask no questions, so to speak. Useful talent, that.
"A Jack Daniel for my friend, and a—a,a, a, he consulted the scratched words on the counter for a moment. "No, no, not a fucking bastard, not tonight, to heavy on the palette" He muttered under his breath.
Of course, Malfoy is at his most eloquent when ordering drinks, Harry thought dryily.
Then he looked up, behind the barman was a row of multi colored bottles, some brown, some teal, some purple, but all emitting a general aura of noxiousness, Draco's attention riveted on them.
"I'll have some of that!" Harry cringed as the barman swung his attention around from wherever it had been to fix all of the incredulity at his disposable on the blond youth.
"You. Want, those?" The barman asked, smirking slightly under his mustache. Draco bridled at the veiled insult, Harry cringed again, Oh dear he thought, Here we go again.
But first, a little background information, these bottles, they're a permanent fixture in any decent shady drinking establishment.
They're the kind of stuff that the bar only brings out when someone discovers that their widowed mother is dating Snape and that they're father left their entire fortune to a curtain rod.
Or when an arrogant youth who looks rich starts up a raucous on a slow Thursday night. Basically, for amusement.
"Alright then, which one do you want?" Draco appeared to think for a moment, appeared to think, because Harry was extremely doubtful whether he was capable of such a highly advanced mental function at this point.
"All of them, my good man!" He beamed cheerily. Harry knocked his head gently against the table willing it to give him a concussion. "Here's your friend's Jack Daniel, all of them you say, are you sure?"
Malfoy considered this, "I think…teal and orange first and then brown and purple"
Harry grabbed blindly at his drink and downed it quickly in a gulp. The liquid made a fiery trail down his throat. "Play it again Sam" He addressed the barman miserably sliding his empty glass down the counter, "I think it's going to be a long night"
"I challenge you to a duel!" Draco declared heatedly standing on the table and posing heroically. In truth he really just looked like hula dancer, but no one in the pub was sober enough to tell him except the barman who was filming the entire thing for funniest home videos.
Harry looked bleary eyed at him, Harry had turned out to be one of those sober drunks you see on dark corners singing about the Apocalypse in deep baritones.
Draco…well Draco wasn't so much drunk as tipsy. "I throw up the figgin, are you coward enough?" He shouted at the vague direction of Harry The ceiling.
He tossed down a cherry which landed on the floor and was snatched up by a passing rat.
"Oh, stuff it up your arse Malfoy" muttered Harry protectively covering his drink from any more unexpected rainstorms of cherries.
"YOU BAKLAVA! YOU SCURVY SAUCEPAN!" Malfoy screamed jabbing his crazy straw violently at Harry's throat.
"Yield, you figgin!" He shrieked knocking Harry's drink over in his enthusiasm.
Something flickered briefly in Harry's eyes. He stared first at the knocked over glass, its contents trickling gently over the edge of the bar onto the floor.
The occupants of the pub drew closer, this was getting interesting. Almost as interesting as the time Edward the Silencer had a fight with that mushroom. It had been 80 years, and people still talked about it come New Year's.
"HOW DARE YOU!" Harry yelled leaping up onto the table as a rush of adrenalin flowed through his system. He swayed gently as if he was going to fall over, but nevertheless remained determined. He glared at Draco angrily.
"BARMAN, a crazy straw for this good man please" commanded Draco with a flourish as if he was directing an orchestra.
The barman hastily shuffled over to the cabinet and held out a purple straw to Harry who grabbed it firmly and snapped it against the table.
"I deem it, worthy of use." He pronounced swishing it through the air. "On guard, contestants, raise your bananas"
Draco moved first, with a brisk slashing movement towards Harry's abodomen. Harry parried with a lower block and nimbly vaulted over the bar and grabbed a whipped cream can.
He flipped the nozzle easily, and waved it at Draco threateningly. The latter, fearless in the face of danger, grabbed a bowl full of mixed nuts which he dumped over the other's head.
'Eat…cake Malfoy!'
A short grey haired witch wearing a beret casually placed on her head and secured by magic getting caught up in the thing dumped her supposed Shirley Temple over the troll on her left who swiveled around and took a sudden swipe at the nearest object to him. This happened to be one of the 4 founders of Hogwarts.
Rowena Ravenclaw's bust fell from its pedestal grandly landing on a gnome in the corner who'd been playing telephone with a wall.
He later claimed he'd fallen in love.
Harry pinned Draco against the wall, shoving the smaller boy by his button up collar. Don't blame the chap, running away from home rarely gives one the time to change into one's sexiest clothes, and even then Draco had spent the mandatory 25 minutes in front of the mirror making sure that his hair was gelled perfectly so it looked windswept and natural.
He pulled out his wand and swished it dramatically in front of the blonde's face who was still laughing in the face of danger, more because one of the salty peanuts had gotten lodged in his throat then any other reason.
And then Harry made his mistake. He hiccupped. Strange things happen when wizards hiccup, among these are the napkins which got up jumped out of the holder and started doing the hockey pokey.
Draco, who in the confusion, as several ostriches squealed noisily snatched up Harry's wand attempted to twirl it casually. Due to his inebriated state it flew through the air, landing in a cauldron of the cook's evening special.
And then, with the abruptness with these things always happen, the joint was raided.
The floor felt very cold under his feet, he groaned and rolled over his fingers touching…touching…something.
His eyes flew open. Eww….ewww…ok, checklist, he wasn't in his room, or the cupboard. All his body parts were in correct positions and, he turned his head.
'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!' he screamed as the plaster came down from the ceiling, trickling down onto a blond head, very close to a dark one.
'Shut up Clarisse!' a voice muttered, and a hand was clapped violently over his mouth. He spluttered with no avail and bit down hard. The voice paused, a note of amusement entering it, it took on a slow velvety sound that sent shivers down his spine, 'Up to something kinky this morning Clarisse, are you?' Draco whispered silkily, his warm breath tickling Harry's hair.
Harry felt a chill trickle down his back.
Well, at least Hermione now had an answer to the eternal Malfoy question 'Gay or Straight'
He shoved Malfoy off him, the boy rolling off the hard mattress onto the floor with a thud. 'Oi, Jeff, stop that you wanker!'
On the other hand…deciding that he would prefer not to hear about the sleeping arrangements at the Malfoy's house he sat up straight, massaging his shoulders which hurt like hell. Ouch. What the hell had he done last night? The last thing he remembered was wandering around after Uncle Vernon had kicked him out of the house.
How on earth had he ended up in chokey with Malfoy sleeping on top of him? He winced.
He shoved Malfoy between shoulder blades with his foot. Hard. He felt that the universe ought to give him some retribution for this nightmare, he was still unwilling to acknowledge that he had got it—no, just stick to got drunk, with Malfoy. That itself was very disturbing.
The blonde's eyes flickered open, grey met green in tumultuous clash of wills; 'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'
'Yes, we know Malfoy, get over it' Harry said tiredly kneading his head.
'Any idea how we got here?' He asked hopefully after the blonde had recovered.
Draco, who appeared to have retreated into shock blinked furiously, 'Er…No' he replied slowly. 'And that would be a bad thing right?'
Harry raised an eyebrow 'Oh no Malfoy, that's just peachy' he said sarcastically.
'Not this early in the morning Potter please, I can't work up the effort to reply to that. I think this is a prison right?'
'No duh what else has big bars on the doors and windows?'
Draco opened his mouth to answer but was shut up by a look from Harry. 'Malfoy, just, just shut up. I have no wish to hear about the guest bedrooms at your house'
Draco attempted to look injured as he picked himself slowly off the floor, surveying their cell. It was small and cramped with one mattress in the corner where Harry was sitting.
On the floor were two crazy straws and his hand was tightly clenched around his wand, which evidently he had refused to give up to the police.
'That was not what I was going to say' He said walking over to Harry and sitting down next to him.
Harry scooted as far away as he could from him on a 4' mattress and scoffed scornfully 'Yah, right'
Draco glared at him balefully, 'Contrary to ordinary belief Potter, I don't hit on anything with two legs'
'No, I saw you go for a centipede once' Harry said trying to untangle his hair with his fingers.
'Point taken' Draco said smirking slightly, surprising himself. Harry looked up in astonishment, 'Did I just hear Draco Malfoy Self Proclaimed God of the Universe crack a joke?' He said wryly.
'Ah, Potter, a god without a sense of humor is a poor one indeed.'
'What are you on Malfoy?' Harry asked shaking his head.
'Anyway, Jeff is my cousin' Draco said, not sure why he was trying to explain himself to Harry bloody Potter..
Harry looked shocked 'Incest!' he cried.
'Who's four years old…' Draco said rolling his eyes. 'Pedophile!' Harry shrieked, backing away and falling off the edge of the bed.
A jangling sound from the front of their cell, which opened up onto a lovely view of yet another cell, this one considerably grimier.
'You two, out' A harsh voice called out. Harry looked and Draco and stood up, brushing a lone cockroach from his jeans.
'I'm very ashamed, that two upstanding youths as yourself should resort to alchol' The judge told them strictly. Although he looked more perturbed with when his next meal was. His judicial wig was hanging off the side of his chair and the smoke from his fag was stinking up the room. Green oily smoke tickled at Harry's nostrils annoyingly.
'Sir?' Draco asked politely, brushing away the putrid air 'Yes young man?' asked the Judge peering at him over golden penszne .
'Do you know that second hand smoke is a killer?' He said.
The Judge looked at him. 'Are you being smart with me, lad?'
Draco's eyes widened innocently, 'Who me, no Sir! Me, be smart? Never!'
Harry stuck his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing. 'You are being smart with me' the Judge said triumphantly as if he had just single-handedly discovered the theory of relativity. 'I am very, very, ashamed of you my boy'
Draco who had scowled darkly when the Judge called him my boy, replied angrily 'Fine'
The Judge's mouth twitched, 'Fine is right, 200 galleons'
Harry bit his lip, and even the recorder whistled slightly, He leant over and whispered silently to the Judge. The Judge shook his head at him and turned back to the boys, 'Each'
Harry wasn't worried, he knew that his parents account added up to a little bit over a million galleons, but he didn't know how Malfoy with all his assets frozen was going to pay.
Draco himself seemed to have thought of this, his face flushing pale.
The Judge stood up and swept out, his shoes clicking against the wooden floor.
The recorder let out a sigh and beckoned the two boys to him. 'Right, I'm sorry about this, but the Judge really is in a bad mood. His vacation in Malibu fell through so he has to go stay at his Aunt's in Torquay'
'Go figure' Draco said rolling his eyes. The recorder looked guiltily amused, but hesitated from laughing.
'Well, you two had better give me the number of your accounts, you two are over 16, right?'
'Right' replied Harry quickly 'Our…er…Parents are on holiday and we, you know' He said guiltily looking at the ground.
The recorder smiled at him kindly, 'I understand, you can pay from your bank account if you like. What's the number?'
Draco blanched again. Having run away from home his name had undoubtedly been struck off the family tree and his allowance stopped. Wondering vaguely what the hell he was going to live on he heard Harry say, '560'. 'For both of us' The recorder nodded. 'Very well then, and, I hope I never see the two of you again' He said smiling in a paternal way.
'You can collect your things from the front desk on the way out' He said, gesturing them out of the hall.
:
Sunlight poured down on the street as they sauntered down the road, they
weren't going anywhere in particular or in a hurry to get where they weren't
going to, so they kept a leisurely pace.
There was a silence, not a strained silence of enemies but the relaxed one of people who know simply that they've said anything of importance that they could say.
Draco halted suddenly, his hands in his pockets, the summer sunshine glinting off his platinum blonde hair. 'You know this has to be a secret, don't you?' He said tentatively twisting his hand worriedly. Harry grinned at him affably, 'I know' He said nodding his head.
They strolled along a bit more, peering into shop windows as Harry explained what Victoria's Secret was.
Draco's eyes widened as he finally grasped the concept, 'Vickie was a ol' devil wasn't she?' he asked biting down laughter at the thought of the prim and proper queen wandering into the 21st century shop that bore her name.
'The woman under the crown' Harry proclaimed solemnly, 'Or under something else' Draco smirked.
Harry whacked him upside the head, 'Please Malfoy, your idea of humor is a bit too playboy for me'
'I must make a pleasant change from Weasel?' Draco said preening slightly.
'You know you look like a peacock when you do that?' He asked amused.
'I thought I looked like a snake' Draco said, looking sad. 'Snakes aren't usually, big, fluffy, and named Harvey' Harry said laughing, 'Want some icecream?' He asked gesturing Draco into a shop, 'My treat' The door tinkled as they walked inside.
Draco jumped, 'Relax man, this isn't a different planet' Harry said walking back up to the counter, smiling ingratiatingly at the blonde girl at the counter.
She was about their age wearing bright red lipstick that reminded Draco of blood, she smirked at Harry. 'Back again Mr. Potter?' She asked sweetly.
'How could I stay away' Harry replied covering her hand with his. 'Ooh, Mr. Potter.' She breathed in huskily.
Draco walked a little ways away from them staring at the big vats of icecream. Ignoring the high pitched giggle and the pink blush which had come with whatever off color remark Harry had made.
Potter, Draco decided had hidden depths. Whether he, Draco, wished these depths to become apparent was questionable, but there was more to Harry Potter than met the eye.
He stared longingly at the long vats of icecream, he was pratically salivating. He couldn't wait to taste the sweet rich creamy taste of it on his tongue. He'd only had it once at his Aunt Andromeda's house, the one time when his father had been away on business, he'd had, what was it. Cookie dough?
His attention was drawn back to register where it had become quite apparent that the two of them were flirting quite outrageously.
'Well Annie, can you take our order, or are you to busy goggling at my shockingly good looks?' Harry asked.
'Or are you Mr. Potter to busy looking down my shirt to order?' She shot back.
Harry just grinned, 'I'll have a double expresso chip with smarties"
She nodded coyly, draping her arm across the counter in coquettish fashion.
Draco, slightly creeped out by this hid behind Harry. Harry rolled his eyes and patted Draco on the shoulder, 'there, there Malfoy, don't be afraid, this nice w-' 'Whore' hissed Draco his eyes wide. Harry coughed to cover up any follow up remarks that he might have made.
She replied cheekily, 'Your friend been around much mate' She asked winking at Draco who blushed slightly.
'Actually, I'm afraid Malfoy here has just come back from several years abroad- in Switzerland' Harry winked back. The salesladies mouth formed and 'o', 'Very, tentative condition I'm afraid, very volatile, he's only got a few months' Harry said shaking his head sadly.
'Oh dearie' she goggled at Draco who was protesting loudly that he was in perfect physical shape and this could be testified by at least 20 witnesses if he was given time to prepare a list.
'Well, it's on the house then' She said firmly cutting off Harry's protests. 'Lord Harry, let him enjoy his last few months on gods earth' 'What'll you be having'
'Er…' Draco wasn't sure, it all looked so frighteningly delectable. 'He'll have the house favorite' Harry answered for him.
She raised her eyebrows, 'You sure?'
Harry smirked, 'oh yes. I'm sure.
'Ow' Draco moaned later at the Leaky Cauldron over butterbeer, 'Potter, my stomach hurts'
'Poor thing' Harry said unsympathetically, 'I told you that you didn't have to eat all of it'
'What? A Malfoy, not finish the food on his plate, un thinkable!' Draco said.
They were silent for a moment, 'Well-' Draco hesitated, 'I'd better be going now Potter, I've got the money that my grandfather left me, father can't touch that. So, I've rented a flat in England'
Harry raised an eyebrow, 'I'm sure it will become the highlight of social features'
'You better believe it' Draco winked, 'And a karaoke machine'
Harry smirked.
'Bye Malfoy'
'Bye Potty' Draco tossed a handful of green powder into the grate and vanished, a muffled '425 Chelsea'
Harry grinned slightly, he knew Malfoy's address. Excellent, He could send him spam mail the rest of the summer.
September came quickly and at long last Harry stood on the platform of King's Cross leaning heavily on his luggage chatting quietly with Hermione and Ron.
A flash of blonde caught his eye, he saw Malfoy and his entourage enter the train, but caught the nearly imperceptible nod in his direction.
He smirked slightly, Draco Malfoy wasn't half as bad as he looked, and he had a rather fine arse as well.
Here Endeth this chronicle, it being strictly a one-shot it could not carry on for much longer without becoming a story. When writing a novel one knows when to end, namely, at the end. But, when writing a one-shot one must choose the ending where one best ascertains, and because we may shortly once again dwell into this verse I shall not relate any of the events happening after this lest I give away the secret of Spinner's End or Felix something or other.
20 points to the House of whoever first figures out where that came from, or I can write you something, whichever.