The rain lashed down on the Leaky Cauldron, dark clouds looming overheard. Thunder clashed with lightening, tracing scaling lines deep into the night. Draco Malfoy pulled his coat over his head as he crossed the street and pushed open the Leaky's heavy wooden doors. It was a Sunday evening, so only the usuals, mainly gruff looking men, were in tonight. The lighting was dim but the cracking fire helped to warm and light the pub on such a nasty night.

Draco shook his hair, flicking droplets across the pub, and made his way to the bar.

'Usual, love?' Michelle, the ageing blonde barmaid, asked with a warm smile.

'Not tonight, a Firewhiskey. Large.'

'Ooh, bad day?' She asked sympathetically.

'You could say that,' he muttered as he sat down on a bar stool. He placed his soaking wet coat on the stool to his left.

'Here you go, love,' Michelle handed Draco his drink and he the money.

'Do you have to sit here?' Said the man sitting on the stool to his right. Draco notices the man already had a few empty glasses in front of him and was currently nursing another. Firewhiskey by the look of it.

Draco knew he knew the voice from somewhere... it took him a minute or so to place it.

'Weasley?!' The man turned to glare at Draco.

In all fairness, Ron hadn't aged too badly - ginger stubble covered his jaw line, his fiery hair was longer than it had been at Hogwarts, his piercing blue eyes looked a little bloodshot and his breath reeked of Firewhiskey.

'Drowning your sorrows, Weasel,' Draco said before taking a gulp of his drink' the liquid burned the back of his throat, but it felt good.

'Granger ran off with Potter?' Ron had been drinking but he stopped and slammed his glass down. 'Touched a nerve have I?' Draco said with a smirk, knowing full well he would have.

'Fuck off,' Ron spat, then signalled Michelle for another drink.

'Witty,' Draco murmured.

For the next hour, the two men remained in silence, both repeatedly ordering more Firewhiskey and other strong drinks; Ron being a Weasley was handling his slightly better than Draco, who had nearly slipped off his barstool twice.

On the third time, Ron caught Draco by the arm before the blond hit the floor.

'Up you go, knobhead.'

'Thanks, Dickweasel.'

'Inventive.'

'Why thank you,' Draco gave a small drunken bow. 'So come on, why you here Weasel?

'Maybe I normally do this,' Ron gestured to the pub around him.

'What? Get slaughtered at the Leaky on a Sunday. Surely you're home reading the small Weasellettes a shitty book before having unsatisfying boring sex with Granger,' snorted Draco.

Ron gave back a small growl from the back of his throat.

'Why are you here as well then Malfoy? How could anything be wrong in your perfect little life?'

There was a pause before Draco's drunken brain took over. 'Everything was fine and I sent Scorpious off to Hogwarts yesterday-,'

'Same!' Yelled Ron. 'I did that too, except I didn't take Scorpious but my daughter Rosie!'

'Look, I was talking so shut up. Anyways... I get an owl from that little bugger today saying that, guess what it ducking said?!'

'Ducking,' Ron gave a small snigger. 'I dunno,' he then shrugged.

'Just guess!' Draco have Ron a small push on the shoulder, nearly causing the red-head to fall off his stool.

'I don't know do I, I'm not Scouripious or whatever his name is.'

'I'M IN HUFFELPUFF!' Screamed Draco, slamming his glass down onto the bar. The pub went into silence for a second but the usual murmur was soon resumed.

'No, you're in Slytherin' replied Ron in a calm drunk tone.

'I am but my useless son isn't! A Malfoy in Huffelpuff! It's unheard of, I'll have to disown him or something - what did I do wrong? And he's my only child!' Draco dropped his head into his hands.

'Itsokay,' Ron slurred his words together as he placed a hand on Draco's shoulder.

'No, it's not!' Draco was nearly sobbing.

'I understand-,'

'How can you? Huffel-fucking-puff! Everybody knows that Huffelpuff are shit. The nobody's get put there!'

'Rose was sorted into Huffelpuff,' said Ron in a solemn, serious tone.

'Merlin, that's just as bad,' Draco shook his head.

''Mione's all like its fine, blah, bloody, blah but she doesn't understand! Weasley's are in Gryffindor - even fucking Percy got put into Gryffindor and he was a knob!'

Draco gave Ron a comforting pat on the shoulder.

'It's not our fault, Ron, our children obviously don't take after our greatness.'

'Yeaaaah! It's all Hermione's fault and whatever your wife is called... you do have a wife, right?' Ron raised his left eyebrow a little.

Draco gave a small amused snort and nodded. 'Yep, a wife. A female wife,' he added for clarification.

'Just checking,' Ron gave a small snigger.

'You know what Ronnie?'

'Yes Draco-ie.'

'I like you.'

'I like you too blondie.'

'Why weren't we friends before?'

'I dunno!' Ron gave a large shrug. 'We would have been unstoppable!'

'And maybe our kids wouldn't have been in Huffelpuff!'

'At least, I've still got another go,' laughed Ron, Draco gave him a playful push on his shoulder, which this time actually sent Ron off his stool. Both men burst into hysterical laughter.

'Right, that's it boys - out,' Michelle shook her head with small smile. Whoever would have thought that a Weasley and a Malfoy would be laughing and drinking together? Just shows you what Firewhiskey can do!

'Going!' Yelled Ron from the floor he began to drag his lanky frame to the door. Draco sniggered.

'Get up!' He tried to help the other off the floor but ended up down too.

It took four (one to carry Draco over his shoulder and the other three to drag Ron out) burly 60 year old men to get both grown men off the floor and out the door.

'Thanks!' Shouted Draco back to the pub as the wooden doors slammed shut behind them.

'Byeeeeee,' waved Ron to the pub.

'Rain's stopped!' Smiled Draco and held his arms open and up to the sky to signal there was no longer rain.

'It's only,' Ron peered at his watch squinting his bloodshot eyes to try and focus. 'What's the time?' he held his wrist out to Draco. Draco held onto the arm, to steady himself, as he got as close to the watch as he could.

'Twelve, I think.'

'The night is still young!' Announced Ron.

'What can we do?' Even in his drunken state, Draco knew not many other establishments would be open, let alone take them.

'I have an idea,' Ron gave a large smirk.

'What?' Draco asked as he began to lean up against a closed shop.

'Mioney spends Sunday nights at Harry's-,'

'Is he sleeping with her?' Asked Draco in a serious tone. Ron seemed to contemplate this. He shrugged in response.

'I dunno. But as far as I know,' Ron paused to hiccup. 'Oour kids and Harry's havea sleepover or something and her and Ginny talk or something.

'Is she sleeping with Ginny?' Asked Draco again in a serious tone. Ron went to laugh but stopped and shrugged instead.

'As I was saying. my house is free!'

'You could have just said that!' Tutted Draco, he didn't need to know the reason... unless Ron had murdered his family or something, then Draco would like to know this and then run away. 'What would we do at yours?' He added.

Ron just smirked and held out his arm. 'Come on, let's apparate out of here.'

'You're going to apparate?' Draco scoffed; Ron was out of his head drunk and Draco himself wasn't too far behind.

'It'sokay,' Ron slurred. 'I always do it!'

Draco shrugged his shoulders in a 'my-son's-been-sorted-into-Huffelpuff-nothing-could-make-this-day-even-worse-even-losing-a-limb' kind of way. Draco grabbed onto the taller man's wrist and in the blink of an eye, the two men were gone.