A few years after the war and several months into therapy, Harry had finally realised why he could never stop thinking about Draco Malfoy. It was so obvious that even Ron was ready to hex Harry by the time he finally mumbled,

'I fancy him.'

Harry's face was smashed against the countertop of the bar. It took a few fire-whiskeys before he could get to what his Healer had told him. Which, incidentally, was the only reason Harry began to believe it himself. Had it not been true, it would have been easy to say. To complain about. That was what he was supposed to be doing: complaining about what a horrible Healer he had.

'How could he suggest—'

Well, the truth, it seemed.

'Perhaps,' Ron said, 'he was as bored out of his mind hearing about the bloke as we are?'

Harry couldn't even lift his head off the bar to glare at Ron. It was utterly hopeless. Malfoy hated Harry as much as Harry had always believed Harry hated him.

Which was a lot.

A firm hand gripped Harry's shoulder, and then Blaise's voice interrupted Harry's thoughts with the encouraging words,

'Come on, mate. It isn't utterly hopeless.'

This coming from a fellow Slytherin and someone Harry knew to be close with Malfoy should have given him some hope, but it didn't. He rolled his head to the side so he could glare at Blaise.

'Hear me out! One, Malfoy is gay! Which means he is much closer to saying yes to you than any other member of the Falmouth Falcons! Two, I'm friends with him and that gives you plenty of opportunities to run into each other!'

Blaise made each statement with sweeping gestures which Ginny had to dodge from her place beside him. She shook her head and laughed. Blaise might have been drinking a bit as well. It was the most casual, as well as the loudest, Harry'd ever heard him.

'We've never run into each other with you.'

Blaise and Ginny had been together for six months, and Blaise had only recently begun to join them when they went out on the weekends. He'd never brought any of his friends along with him.

'That doesn't mean you can't start!'

Harry, finally, sat up and listened to him.

Why had Blaise offered to bring Draco with him, again?

Draco turned his glare from the mirror toward Blaise. 'How did you talk me into this, again?'

'It's just a dinner party.'

'With Weasleys.'

Blaise brushed down Draco's robes, making sure there was no lint hiding somewhere that Draco wouldn't notice it and ironing out any wrinkles he found. Once he was sure Draco looked perfect, he firmly grabbed his shoulders, stared him directly in the eyes, and said,

'I'm dating a Weasley.'

For a brief moment, Draco looked as though he was going to apologise. He nodded instead and then Blaise released him and let Draco check his own robes over.

'This is a serious relationship and I don't want to have to choose between my friends and my family.'

Draco stopped and their eyes met through the mirror. 'Are you thinking of marrying her?'

'I hadn't thought about it yet.' Blaise shook his head at Draco and then smirked. 'When I said family, I'd been referring to you.'

'Me?'

'Among others: Pansy, my mother, of course.' Blaise never considered his mother's husbands part of his family, and whoever his father was caused his mother's family to never speak to her again. He nudged Draco with his elbow then held out his own.

'We should go,' Blaise said. 'We don't want to be late.'

They appeared outside The Burrow a moment later. It looked peaceful, serene as they walked up the path. Blaise knew that would change the moment they entered the house. Before they had a chance to knock the door was thrown open. Potter stood there and stared at them.

'Hi,' Potter said much too loudly.

Why? Oh, why had he offered to do this? Ginny peeked from around Harry, and then she grabbed Harry's arm pulling him out of the way.

'Well, come on.' Ginny gestured them in and kept herself between Harry and Draco until they made it to the living room. Blaise shared a look with Ginny and she nodded him to the kitchen.

'I'll be just a moment,' Blaise said and followed her. He didn't have to look to know that Draco was glaring at his back. Once in the kitchen, he started, 'It's quiet.'

'Yes, well, my parents aren't here nor any of my brothers—'

'What?'

'Shhh, Ron didn't trust himself not to say something stupid. My parents didn't want to interfere, Bill and Charlie don't always come and didn't want to without mum and dad here. George—it's probably best that he's not here.'

'Draco isn't stupid.' Blaise began to pace the kitchen. 'He'll know we set him up.'

'I know, so I called Neville.'

Blaise stopped. 'And?'

'He should be here soon, but I don't know who he'll bring with him. I had hoped he get here earlier, but he is always late.'

Ginny twisted her fingers as she chewed the inside of her cheek. As Blaise calmed himself down with the knowledge that other people would be there soon, he realised that his excuse for the dinner would be a failure either way. Draco would say nothing, but he'd figure it out—that the Weasleys weren't ready to welcome Blaise quite yet. Blaise hadn't expected them too, not yet.

But the truth hit him harder than he expected.

This was for Harry and everyone except Draco knew it. They wouldn't even show up for Harry, would Ginny have even entertained the idea if the dinner really had been for Blaise? Pansy and Draco, not just his mother, we're part of his family. Of the three of them, his mother was the only one convicted as a Death Eater and sent to Azkaban. Her sentence was light in comparison—only seven years vs. the more common twenty-five to life—but she did far more damage than Draco had during the war, even if she didn't kill anyone.

'What's the matter?' Ginny had been watching him.

Blaise was saved from answering by a knock on the door.

'Nothing,' he lied as they made their way to answer it.

Neville arrived with Luna and a Gryffindor girl from Ginny's year that Blaise couldn't remember the name of. They all joined Harry and Draco in the living room, where they were sitting on a couch. Draco pushing himself further into the corner to get away from any accidental touching by Harry, and Harry turned toward him fidgeting and blushing like—well, what he was—smitten with Draco.

Neville came and sat right between the pair and it was one of the many times that night Blaise could have kissed him.

'He asked me to dinner,' Draco said. 'Can you believe that? I can't go to dinner with him.'

'Why not?'

'He's Harry Potter.'

Blaise waited for a better answer.

'What would people say?'

'Why does it matter what'd they say? You did nothing but talk about him for years. Everyone knows you fancy him—' Blaise received a glare for that comment but didn't care. It had been a running joke for years, and teasing Draco about it had been the only way to shut him up about Potter's latest activities.

'Give me a good reason,' Blaise said.

'I don't care what people say if they're wrong, but I can't handle it if they are right.'

He would never understand Draco. He had the Dark Mark but he never cared one way or another about it until someone who looked down on such things walked in the room. That he preferred the company of men and he thought about Potter more than most would consider strictly healthy likewise wasn't an issue unless someone else thought it was. He was a good Qudditch play, good enough to be the Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons, and as long as no one else around him cared that he never beat Potter in all the years they played Quidditch against each, then neither did he.

They'd had these conversations before and Blaise couldn't convince Draco that the people who made those judgements were wrong. None of them meant he was weaker or less worthy of life than Potter. They were just differences. Who cares, really, if society valued—and would always value—bravery over ambition? It was still not a greater or better trait to have in all circumstances. The brave may thrive in war but ambition always won in peacetime.

Putting their world back together, helping everyone create an equal plane for their society, rebuilding and making it better than it was before, were all ambitions which had nothing to do with bravery.

Blaise took a deep breath. 'Okay, then what do you need to do to prove them wrong? What exactly do you need to prove wrong to be able to just go on a date with him?'

'I need to beat him.'

'Friendly competition?' Blaise simply dropped Potter's name in the same sentence as the word 'game', and Draco never could resist attempting to beat Potter at something no matter how many times he lost to him.

'I get enough of that at my job,' Draco said, before reminding everyone for the hundredth time that, 'my team's won every championship since I joined them.'

To be fair, the Falmouth Falcons had won most of their championships prior to Draco joining their team. He was an excellent Seeker but,

'You've still never beat me,' Potter said.

Blaise groaned as Draco turned pink around the ears. Could Potter do nothing but put his foot in his mouth? Did he want to date Draco or not? Insulting him was not the way to go about it.

'Come on, Malfoy. Red versus green?'

Blaise had only told Potter that playing games with each other would be a more accepted form of contact for Draco. Games Draco understood, he had told him, where relationships made him uncomfortable. In truth, games made Draco uncomfortable as well, but only because he tied his self-worth into the winning and losing of them.

He debated about telling Potter the truth about Draco.

The more he lost to Potter the worse it would be, but Blaise knew that if Draco won it had to be real. So he didn't let Potter know what needed to happen. Besides, Potter was so used to getting everything he wanted when he wanted it, he could use being rejected for a while.

Draco was bound to win at something. If not on the Quidditch Pitch then perhaps at Wizard's chess. He'd heard Potter had never won a game against Weasley; if Draco didn't get distracted by Potter's mere presence, it could be the thing he needed. Something he would always beat Potter at as well.

'You can even be the team captain of the green team if you want?' Potter bounced on his heels as he waited for an answer. Blaise had never seen him so excited. 'It'll be fun.'

It'd be a nightmare; just like being back at Hogwarts. Only worse, because now Draco was a professional. He'd be the person everyone would see as having an advantage. Potter only played at the weekends.

'I've got a better idea,' Draco said with a smirk that made Blaise nervous. 'Did you bring your racing broom, Potter?'

Everyone knew that Potter was so loyal he only owned one broom. It had taken Draco a better part of an hour to pick out which broom he'd bring with him, and now he knew why he'd made the choice he had. It wasn't a good Seeker's broom because it didn't turn around worth a damn, but it was the fastest broom if you wanted to go in a straight line or make a quick dodge in one direction or the other.

Of course, Potter agreed.

Everyone else sat on the bench as Bill flew at the start line and Fleur waited at the finish line.

Game. Set. Match. Loss.

'Malfoy!' Potter called as he ran after him off the pitch. 'Wait!'

Blaise gave Ginny a quick kiss. 'Draco'll hex him if he catches up with him.' He was off the bench and walking quickly after the pair a moment later. He caught up to them in time to pull Draco back before he sent the first stinging hex. Potter would have survived it—laughed it off, even—but Draco would have regretted it and been even more humiliated.

The next weekend was rained out and Blaise had never been so thankful for rain in his life. Game day would involve actual games for once. Everyone lounged around Grimmauld Place as they switched off card games which Potter wasn't good nor horrible at.

Quickly, Blaise realised the problem with card games. They were group games and somehow even when Draco did get more points than Harry it didn't change anything. It didn't have the same spirit of competition as one-on-one games or the physical sports did.

And the other problem with card games, the bigger problem, was that even when Draco beat Potter he was still losing to someone else.

Wizard's chess would not be a good idea if Weasley was as good as everyone said he was. Losing to Potter wasn't a new thing for Draco, but losing to Weasley—Blaise didn't even want to witness the aftermath.

'Ron,' Potter said the words that would have been impossible for Draco to ignore, 'you know I hate chess!'

'I'll play,' Draco said as though it meant nothing to him. Blaise hated that tone. It meant that Draco cared far too much about he was about to do and that failing was not an option. Would beating Weasley be a big enough thing?

It was Weasley's thing. Weasley was Potter's best mate. Sod it, Blaise couldn't comprehend every thought that went through Draco's mind. He knew Draco cared about the game, but that didn't mean it would change anything in the end.

Blaise watched.

Everyone watched.

It was probably the only game a chess many of them had watched from beginning to end. Draco did well but so did Weasley.

Blaise held his breath and his stomach dropped as Weasley said, 'Knight takes queen.'

There were groans and cheering all around them.

'Alright, who needs more drinks?' Ginny asked and Blaise went with her to the kitchen with half a dozen glasses to refilled.

'You alright?' she asked, once they were alone.

He nodded.

'You looked uncomfortable when Draco lost.'

'He's never been a very good loser.'

'He didn't say anything; I'd say he deals with it a lot better now than he used to.'

Yes, he had matured quite a bit since being fifteen, but Blaise was more worried about how it affected Draco and less about what made other people feel more comfortable. They came back to Seamus collecting money from the side bets.

'Pay up, Harry.'

'You bet on me?' Draco asked, staring at Potter in disbelief. Blaise wanted to hex him. Potter asked him to dinner. He stared at him constantly most of the time with a goofy looking grin of his face.

Of course, he bet on him.

'Yeah,' Potter said as he dropped a few gallons into Seamus' hand, 'and I lost.'

Blaise closed his eyes. It didn't matter to Potter. It was obvious by his tone of voice that he didn't care, and he'd spend thousands of gallons supporting Draco's failed efforts if Draco would let him. But it was four steps backwards. If there was anything worse than the idea that Potter was better than him in every way, it was the reminder that Draco dragged Potter down.

A winner that became a loser by associating with him.

Draco downed a fire-whiskey.

Blaise followed suit which annoyed Ginny. She didn't like how easily Draco's mood affected him. She didn't realise that she was the same about her close friends as well. If someone upset her friends, she was just as angry.

Everyone heard Draco's 'Fuck off, Potter!' when Harry followed Draco to the door later and attempted to help him get home without Splinching himself.

Blaise was there and quick to heal him when Draco did Splinch himself. He'd been lucky, very lucky. Had the cut been any deeper he'd have been on the bench for a while.

'I'm tired of being in a sea of Gryffindors,' Draco said the next weekend.

'We're not even playing this weekend,' Blaise said. 'It's a party, not a competition. Honest.'

Draco thought about it a moment. 'Get Pansy to come and I'll consider it.'

Pansy, as always, was harder to convince even though he was able to tell her the truth.

'Honestly, Blaise when did you become such a Hufflepuff?'

'It's a party, Pansy. You love celebrations.'

'I love alcohol and making fun of people under the influence of alcohol; there's a slight difference.'

Blaise smirked. 'You'll have plenty of opportunity with this lot.'

'Hmm, I fear it would be too easy….'

What would make it worth it for Pansy? 'If we get them together, Draco will quit complaining about Potter.'

'I doubt that; it would just be a different type of complaining.'

'Viktor Krum will be there,' Blaise said, his voice full of doubt.

Pansy snorted. 'I've been over that crush since Sixth Year.'

'It would mean a lot to me if you'd join us.'

'Well, that's all you had to say...I'll be there.' She smiled slightly. 'What's this party for, anyway?'

'The Weasley's are big Cannons fans.'

Pansy's face scrunched up in confusion. 'They're not going to the championship?'

'I know, they're celebrating that the Cannons aren't dead last this year.'