Chapter Two

Ron scowled at the empty doorway. This was bad, where the bloody hell did he get the idea of letting his best mate out with the ferret. No good will come of this, he thought. When he saw Draco come back in a talk to Terry for a moment, it just got worse and he felt his stomach fall to his feet.

"You don't suppose, it was the tequila do you?" Hermione asked curiously.

Ron thought fast. "I don't know what it was, Mione but I damn sure don't like it. Why was he hitting on Harry?"

"It's not like you to be jealous, Ron." Hermione quipped. "I mean I know you fancy witches and wizards, but I didn't think you fancied Malfoy?"

"Not bloody likely." Ron snarled scowling at his other best friend. "Think about it, Hermione. Harry sends out no signals, we can't even get him to socialize at parties unless it's at St. Mungo's and that's only because he loves to talk about medical magic. Besides, it's Draco Malfoy the only time he has ever talked to us in our lives was to insult us, so it's not like he knows how amazing Harry is behind the 'Boy-who-lived' complex. He was dressed in plain black slacks and a button-down, yet Draco Malfoy crossed a crowed muggle nightclub to pick him up…"

"It's possible." Hermione said. "I'm not saying it's logical which I know is a first for me, but maybe it's fate."

"Right after he talked to Terry?" Ron finished, nodding to the landing where a red-faced Terry Boot was now moving in on Pansy.

"Oh," Hermione looked stricken. "Oh, bugger."

"There's only one thing we can do, Mione." Ron sighed. "We've got to find out what Love'm and Leave'm Malfoy is up to."

"How?"

"I don't know," Ron groaned.

Hermione looked up on the landing and saw Theo and Blaise. Leaning over, Hermione grinned mischievously. "I know, look up there. Draco left Blaise and Theo behind. And I know for a fact Blaise has fancied you since fifth year."
Ron gulped nervously. He knew Blaise fancied him too, and it was one of the reasons Ron had always had a softer spot for that Slytherin than the others, and because the Italian man was devastatingly gorgeous. "Got it," Ron nodded. "You pick up Theo, and I'll get Blaise."

Hermione nodded and looked up at the mezzanine where they were leaning over the rail. She loosened another button on her blouse and waved at Theo with a big smile on her glossy lips. "Two minutes." She murmured to Ron.

"It's a crowed club, Mione," He laughed. "You best give him three, at least."

Terry watched Draco open the street door for Harry and was overcome with jealousy. It wasn't that we wanted to get one over on Draco. He always wanted that. It was just that Draco never broke a sweat, he never made a bad business deal, he never lost a bet, and never hit on a man and missed. Ernie warned me about this, he told himself in frustration, but hew knew it wasn't just his need to get ahead, this time the jealousy knifed into his gut a little further.

This time Draco had taken Harry from him. Harry who was good, solid, husband material except for that stubborn streak which he could have worn down, Harry would have come back eventually. But now—

He shivered with jealous rage as Draco slipped back through the door and motioned him over.

"We're going to dinner," the blond said holding out his hand. "Ten galleons, please." He made sure to wiggle his fingers as he waited just to set Terry off.

Still, Draco wasn't able to keep the agitation out of his voice. "To bad you didn't let me know, Harry doesn't trust anybody." And with that Draco turned around and disappeared.

"I think I made a mistake." Terry moaned.

"You too?" Pansy muttered.

As the blond walked out of the building once more, Terry turned and was immediately pinioned by Pansy's curious gaze. "Somehow I'm certain there is something you're not telling me, Terry darling. What is it?"

"I just bet Draco ten thousand galleons he couldn't get Harry Potter into bed in a month." The Ravenclaw explained in a torrent of frustration.

"For the love of Salazar, why on earth would do something so stupid?" Pansy snapped.

"Because he doesn't have a chance, and I wanted to make him suffer a bit." Terry muttered already feeling twelve shades of lousy.

"And what, oh enlightened one, makes you think Draco doesn't have a chance with Harry Potter?" Pansy asked her mind already whirling with images of Harry and Draco together ruining any hopes she may have had to get the blond back.

"Well," Terry grunted. "I don't see why you're so upset with me, it's not like you managed to hold onto Draco very well now did you?" He didn't miss the wave of sadness that washed over the woman's features.

"Draco couldn't wait to get out from under his parents." Pansy supplied. "So when his mother decided she needed to get away from the British Wizarding world until all the negative social stigma abated a bit, he jumped at the chance to encourage her. Once they were packed off to the manor in Paris, Draco told me that he was going back to school so he could get his mastery in potions, and that we should see other people."

"I see." Terry nodded.

"I figured he just needed time to get his life on track, and after the first two years, I finally got sick of waiting so I told him to either marry me or dissolve the betrothal contract."

Understanding dawned in Terry's eyes. "Draco dissolved the contract! He must be a moron."

"It doesn't matter." Pansy sighed in exasperation. "He will come back to me soon enough, he needs an heir. What I'm concerned about now, is how Draco managed to walk out of here with Harry bloody Potter on his arm?"

"It's Draco," Terry grumbled. "Besides I thought Harry would tell him where to stick and that would be the end."

"What made you think that?" The woman almost shrieked.

"Because Harry's my ex-boyfriend and we only just broke up tonight." Terry snarled. "I didn't think he would give Draco a chance, I thought it was a sure bet."

"Well," Pansy sniffed. "It looks like you were wrong. I just hope Draco realizes his mistake when he gets the Golden Boy back to his place."

Terry shrugged and took a long drink from his glass. "They're not going back to his place." Pansy narrowed her eyes quizzically. "Harry won't…" Pansy waited. "He doesn't like sex."

Pansy smiled.

Terry shrugged. "At least, he didn't the three months we were dating. So I ended it."
Pansy shook her head in disgust. "You didn't give the relationship enough time."

Terry snorted. "I think that three months is more than sufficient.

"Harry is a healer," Pansy said as if she were talking to a child. "He spends his time taking care of people who cannot or choose not to take proper care of themselves. He grew up in an environment that was void a familial love and then moved on to a school where he was blindly worshipped or hated simply for being alive. He has very few relationships of any kind that involve any degree of unconditional love. Merlin, Boot, if you wanted sex in the first five minutes you should have hired a rent-boy. Harry lives a life that is safeguarded to minimize risk to himself and those around him, and this case, he was right about you."

Terry instantly began to regret his previously positive assessment of Pansy. "How was he right?"

"You left him over sex." Pansy leaned forward, and Terry pretended not to watch the sway of her breasts through the satiny sheath of her red dress. "Terry, this is my specialty. If you loved Harry, you wouldn't have given him an ultimatum over sex."

"What is it that you do exactly?" Terry asked his voice frosty.

"I'm a mind healer at St. Mungo's." She replied. "I work in the Janis Thickey Ward. Although, I moonlight as a couples therapist occaisionally."

"But how is that any different than what you did to Draco." Terry immediately saw a loop and hoped to capitalize on the weakness.

Pansy shook her head. "I did not give Draco an ultimatum over sex, I would never deny him that. I simply understand that he has to think of this logically and though Draco may believe that he prefers the company of other men, he has to fulfill the obligations of his family. With generations of Malfoy expectation weighing down on him, he may have his fun for a while, but responsibility will eventually catch up with him and I will be there waiting. Besides, Draco is very attached to me, and that is one of the steps to mature love. He may not want me sexually, but many arranged marriage between pureblood families have lasted on less than that successfully."

"That makes absolutely no sense." Terry replied. "You're operating on the assumption that Draco will fulfill his family's mandates rather than see to his own happiness and leave the fortune to another relative."

Pansy smirked. "Not at all." She straightened a bit and locked eyes with Terry, "My studies in behavior have lead me to understand that mature love happen in four distinct stages." She held up a finger. "When you meet an individual with the purpose of romantic interaction you immediately gauge their potential as partner based on certain physical and psychological preferences. That stage is assumption." Pansy held up a second finger. "If after she has passed the assumption test, you begin to find out if she is appropriate for you; if so you move to attraction." She held up a third finger. "If, as you get to know her, the attraction is reinforced by joy or pain—or both—you'll fall into infatuation." Pansy held up her fourth finger. "If you manage to make a connection and become attached to each other, you'll then move into mature unconditional love."

Terry eyed her skeptically. "I comprehend facts and statistics better than most, but even that sounds rather clinical and sketchy. The human psyche is far too diverse to assume these stages work for everyone if at all."

"That doesn't mean I'm wrong." Pansy insisted. "I just wish I could watch how their interacting right now." She muttered in frustration.

Terry nodded. "Well we can't do anything about that now, we've no idea where they Apparated to."

She nodded. "So did you ask me out to dinner because you wanted to go, or just to make Draco mad?"

Hmmm…Terry thought. If he took Pansy to dinner Theo and Blaise would tell Draco he and Pansy hooked up. That would serve the blond bastard right. He could take out the hot blonde who'd left Draco Malfoy, and it would serve the git right.

Terry smiled pleasantly at her. "I asked you because I wanted to have dinner with you of course."

"And you can tell me more about Potter while we there." Pansy said.

"Absolutely." Terry replied.

Harry stood outside in the cool November air while Draco went back in to retrieve whatever it was he had forgotten—his morals, perhaps—and the cool evening air cleared his head and eased his anger a fraction. The club was on one of his favorite streets in Muggle London with cool little restaurants, funky stores that Ron spent hours wondering around in, and an old theater that played black and white movies just like ones Harry would sneak up late and watch at the Dursleys when they were asleep. A strong breeze blew through the skinny trees lining the street that struggled to grow in the little wrought iron cages surrounding them. For a moment, Harry watched the trees tremble little red and gold leaves falling like rain onto the pavement and thought, I know just how you feel. The feeling of entrapment that sometimes overwhelmed him, came up in his chest and he took a deep fortifying breath to ease the tension.

He was stuck, no doubt, not that he wasn't content in some ways. He loved his job at Saint Mungo's there was nothing as satisfying as helping someone and making them better. Still, he was dateless to Gin's wedding, and even he could admit that some nights he would rather sleep in the break room at the hospital that go home to his empty house with no one but Dobby to keep him company. Though sometimes he regretted taking the elf on, even though Dobby seemed content to earn a galleon a week just to keep things tidy and make him dinner. Things just seemed discouraging sometimes, and if he were honest, he didn't know how he was going to keep Draco around for three weeks bet or not. What was there to attract others to him, he was wealthy, he was famous—though he hated ever bit of the attention—and it was obvious that Draco didn't either. It had been a royally stupid idea to even think about going on a date with Draco, a stupid idea no doubt fueled by the tequila and his anger over Terry.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Draco walk out pulling on a long expertly tailored wool coat and buttoning it up tight. He is perfect, Harry thought. Draco Malfoy was devastatingly gorgeous and he looked like belonged in a Muggle magazine, and it only confirmed his decision: there was no way in hell he was going to spend three weeks with someone who obviously could only want Harry for the joy of winning a bet because there was no comparison. I could never measure of to that not even if I wanted to, Harry thought.

He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Draco to join him.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"It's a surprise, but I'm sure you'll like it." Draco replied grabbing his arm and to side-along Harry to their destination. When the reappeared, Harry was surprised to see them standing in Hogsmeade.

"We're going to the Three Broomsticks?" Harry asked incredulously. "I didn't fancy you as the 'stroll down memory lane' type, Draco."

"I'm not, normally." Draco replied smoothly as he gestured Harry forward to follow him. "We're going to some place I've become rather fond of these last few years."

Harry chuckled. "Why so evasive?"

Draco smiled that GQ smile at him, and Harry's heart hammered. "I'm not being evasive, you simply have to trust me." He wasn't surprised to hear Harry's snort of incredulity.

"You'll forgive me, if I find that it's rather hard to trust Slytherins to begin with, and my going out with you at all is already a great feat."

"I could be anywhere else, but I chose to be here with you," Draco's voice softened a bit.

Harry snorted. "Oh would you cut that out."

"Excuse me?" he said his smile fading.

"The constant line," Harry began to walk again. "You've got me for dinner, you can relax now. I promise not to disappear during dessert."

"Potter," Draco scoffed. "I'm always relaxed."

"Let's just have a nice dinner." Harry finally said. "Only I don't know where we're going since the only place at the end of the village is the Hog's Head."

Draco smiled. "Exactly."

Harry turned around to look at Draco curiously. "You're taking me to a nice dinner at the Hog's Head. You realize that it's a dirty old pub, owned by Aberforth Dumbledore, right?"

The huge grin that split Draco's face sent shivers through Harry's body, and he backed up a step. "You're not planning on feeding me to his goat are you?"

The rich throaty laugh that burst out of Draco's mouth was beautiful. "Of course not. Crabbe and Goyle bought the place after we left school and turned it into a proper restaurant."

"You're not helping your cause." Harry chided though he couldn't get rid of the smile that took over his face at the thought of the two pudgy boys owning a restaurant, or anything for that matter. "You're talking about Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, the barely scrapped a handful of newts between the two of them."

Draco bristled a bit at the insult to his friends. True Crabbe and Goyle weren't scholars, but they were good at what they liked and they didn't just like food they loved food.

"I'll have you know that they are excellent chefs and their restaurant has done quite well in the last few years." Draco fumed.

Harry nodded. "I'll take your word for it." A few minutes later they were standing in front of the Hog's Head, or what used to be the old dumpy bar. It was now clean, well painted on the outside with lovely open windows and gold script. Harry peeked in through the window and noticed there were very few patrons inside and noticed the placard with hours on it.

"It closes at Ten on weekdays, it has to be close to that now." Harry said turning concerned eyes to the blond.

"Don't worry about it," Draco smirked. "I'm there favorite customer." He said pulling the door open. "At least until the see you."

"Another line?" Harry scoffed. "And a terrible one, they hated me all through school."

Draco shook his head. "No line. They only did that because their fathers expected it, plus I was a right bastard to you too. They actually rather idolized you, albeit secretly, though if you keep raking me over through dinner they may give you a free desert."

Harry smiled. "I'm a bit shocked, but stranger things have happened."

The blond nodded and ushered Harry through the door into the warmly lit atmosphere inside.

It was a minute and a half by Ron's watch before Blaise tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but I believe you were staring at me." He voice was like liquid sin, and Ron shivered. Damn I forgot about what he was like, he thought. Focus Ron we have to protect Harry first, flirt with Zabini later.

Ron turned and blinked at the other man. "That was a look of disbelief, actually. I couldn't believe you were that slow."

Blaise raised and eyebrow. "Slow?" He looked insulted. "Nobody could have gotten through that crowd faster than me, without the aid of magic."

Ron shook his head. "You spotted me a good hour ago. What did you do sit and think about it, or ask Malfoy for permission?"

He rolled his eyes. "I heard Weasley's were hard to handle."

"What makes you think you'll get that far?" Ron chuckled.

"Because you owe me." Blaise replied simply.

"How do you figure?" Ron was curious now.

"Well," Blaise began as he scooted forward a few more inches right into Ron's bubble. "I've wanted you for years, and it's not right to tantalize someone with something so delectable and not follow through."

The redhead couldn't suppress the fountain of laughter from escaping as he listened to Blaise. "There is no way, because I never even admitted to an interest in the same gender until I left school."

"Maybe you didn't admit to it," Blaise conceded. "But, if you thought that little affair of yours with Finnegan was a secret you're dead wrong. Seamus was and still is a complete slut."

Ron couldn't disagree. Seamus had been very free with his attentions in school, but the Irishman had toned it down when he and Dean Thomas became serious a year or so ago.

"Come on, Zabini," Ron prodded. "You're going to have to do better than this if you expect to pick me up." Blaise grinned at the challenge.

The laughter next to him caught Ron's attention and he turned to see Theodore Nott chatting up Hermione quite enthusiastically. "Is he always like this?" he said to Hermione, and Ron couldn't help sizing the other man up. Tall, well-dressed, boring.

"Well, Blaise isn't exactly Prince Charming," Hermione said giving him her best wicked grin.

Theo beamed down at her. "Neither am I. Do I still get a chance?"

Can he be more of a Hufflepuff, it's disgusting, Ron thought and caught Blaise's eye as he rolled his own in disgust.

"He means it," Blaise said defensively. "Theo really has no line."

"After listening to your feeble attempt, that's a blessing." Ron muttered with a little grin. "Trust me."

"Well," Hermione huffed. "I'm sure you more than make up for it in other areas."

Theo nodded sheepishly.

"I heard you got very high N.E.W.T. scores when we graduated." Hermione continued. "I'm Hermione Granger by the way, though I'm sure you already knew that."

Theo's eyes widened considerably. This sexy vixen was the straight-laced perfect Miss Granger from Hogwarts, Head Girl during the repeat year, with the highest scores in Transfiguration, Charms, and Arithmancy in over 80 years.

He swallowed and looked at her with naked adoration. "I'm Theo Nott, which you already know apparently, and you are possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

"Which doesn't mean he's bad with women." Blaise whispered to Ron.

"I'm beginning to see his appeal." Ron nodded. "What's yours?" Stupid question Weasley, he radiates appeal—particularly that of the sexual variety, He groaned internally.

"I'm an amazing shag." Blaise replied his voice deep and sensuous.

Ron shivered at the implications of that statement. "Well then, you really are a hopeless flirt, but you can buy me a drink anyway while you tell me all about yourself and your friends."

"Anything you want," Blaise purred. Turning away from Ron for a minute, Blaise waved down the raven haired bartender. "Hey Louis, you planning on my side of the street yet?"

The dark haired man laughed and shook his head. "Nope, but when I do, you'll be the last to know."

"That's okay," Blaise chuckled. "Just so long as I'm on the list."

"You really are hopeless," Ron said pointedly. "You know that right?"

"You know him?" Hermione piped up.

The bartender nodded. "He's here every weekend with Theo and the blond who left with your friend."

"I see," Hermione turned to look at Theo and then at Blaise. "So you know Draco to then?"

"The blond, you bet." Louis said.

"So, Blaise," Ron began tuning the others out and fixing his gaze on the Italian playboy. "How long have you, Theo, and Draco known each other?"

"Since about the second grade," Blaise replied. "We were raised together, and eventually went to primary. My family moved back to England around then."

Ron tilted his head slightly. "Right, now what have you been up to since we left Hogwarts?"

Draco watched the awe on Harry's face as he caught the full force of the Hog's Head for the first time since it's rebirth. Seeing his favorite restaurant in all of its funky glory, charmed ceiling just like Hogwarts that had taken him and Blaise ages to help Vince and Greg put up, old black and white wizarding photographs all over the walls, red and white checkered table cloths that Blaise insisted they needed with candles stuffed into Chianti bottles just like the bistro's in Italy. Menus spelled to read and explain the selections in English, French, Spanish, and Italian. He waited for Harry's lip to curl and the realized that the other man's mouth had fallen open in astonishment. Well, Draco reasoned, he deserves it for being so damn difficult.

"This is amazing," Harry gushed. "I never thought they would be capable of doing something so incredible and…did you help?"

Draco smiled and nodded. "Believe it or not Harry, but they are dear friends of mine and I do have altruistic motives too sometimes."

Harry walked over to the photos on the wall to see pictures of Crabbe and Goyle in France and Italy at different restaurants and cafes, or wearing chef's hats at their graduation for The Wizard's Culinary Institute of Italy."

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," Vincent said walking out of the back with his apron still on and his hat sitting jauntily on his head. "How excellent to see you again."

Harry turned around quickly to see a tall thinner Vincent Crabbe walking toward them.

"Harry, I'm sure you know Crabbe." Draco said. "Vince makes the best garlic bread in England."

Harry grinned. "I'm sure you make the best everything." Harry said offering his hand, a wide smile on his fast that quirk wickedly at one end.

"For the great Harry Potter, anything." Crabbe said with a big puppy faced grin. "It is an honor to have your patronage this evening."

"That's enough, Vince." Draco smirked. "Harry's my date, no more kissing up."

"None of that." Harry laughed. "I'm simply here to have dinner and give Draco a hard time."

Vince grinned sheepishly.

"I'm not anyone's date. We don't even like each other." Harry said with a shake of his head. "Separate checks please Vincent."

"Not separate checks, Vincent." Draco said exasperated beyond politeness. "But a table would be nice."

"Anything for you, Mr. Malfoy." Vince said with a hint of friendly disdain.

Unbelievable, Draco thought, and kicked Vince in the ankle as he walked by toward the dinning room.

"I sent the servers home half and hour ago, you ponce."

"You're welcome." Draco grinned at his friend wickedly.

They were directed to their table in a cozy private corner and Draco pulled Harry's chair out for him, before taking his own. "Everything here is delicious." He told Harry as he opened the menu, though there really was no need since he very nearly had the menu memorized. In a few minutes, Goyle walked out with their bread and a bottle of wine having wanted to see Draco and Harry sitting together with his own eyes to believe it.

"What will you be having this evening gentlemen?" Greg asked as he placed the bread on the table and poured generous glasses of rich red wine.

Harry gazed and menu in confusion for a moment, not sure what to pick. "I'll have whatever Draco is having." He said after a several minutes of scrutinizing the menu.

Draco nodded and put down his menu. "We'll have the house salad to start and then the Osso Buco."

"Excellent choice." Greg smiled and disappeared with a soft pop.

After Greg left, Draco took a sip of his wine watching Harry thoughtfully.

"I've heard that you work at St. Mungo's." The blond said curiously.

Harry took a deep drink from his water goblet, not wanting to lose his head this too early with Draco. "Yes, I just finished my first year of residency and I work in the Dark Arts Reversal Ward."

Draco's eyes widened. "Where did you attend?"

"Dumont's School of Medicinal Magic in Germany." The brunet replied.

"Isn't school for medical magic a four year program?" Draco asked barely able to hide his shook. "Shouldn't you be in your first year of residency?"

"It is," Harry tilted his head in agreement. "However, I didn't like Germany quite so much so I stayed through the breaks and graduated a year early."

It would be a lie if Draco denied that he was even a bit impressed by Harry's answer. Never would he have guessed that the other boy would grow up to do something like Healing especially considering Harry was never known for a prolific attention to schooling at Hogwarts.

"How about you?" Harry asked pulling Draco from his thoughtful reflection.

"I finished my mastery in Potions and I own a business with Blaise and Theo." Draco answered before taking a bite of bread and trying to suppress a little groan of pleasure at the delicious taste. "Blaise took his mastery in Transfiguration and Theo is studying Muggle inventions, so we manufacture and market adapted Muggle products."

"It seems things are looking up for everyone." Harry assented. "I never would have thought that Crabbe and Goyle would become so successful or that you would do anything other than live off the largess of your family's vaults."

Draco laughed at that statement. "Contrary to popular belief, I never wanted to live off of my father or stay in the shadow of the notorious Lucius Malfoy forever."

Harry chuckled before sampling the bread for himself. He did moan in enjoyment at the flaky warm buttery goodness. "This bread is fantastic."

A shot of pure heat arrowed through Draco's stomach directly into his groin at the throaty sound coming from the other man. Merlin, it should be illegal to be that sexy, Draco thought. Dinner went quickly after that, Harry enjoying his meal and Draco torturing himself by watching the sexy brunet swallow over and over again heedless of the pain in his groin. After dinner was finished and both men squabbled over the check Draco finally prevailed and handed Goyle his payment. Harry nodded graciously and followed Draco out into the street.

"Well," Draco began his voice a little huskier than he expected. "It would be quite rude if I don't at least make sure you get home safely."

"No thank you." Harry replied gruffly and turned to pull out his wand. Unfortunately for him, Draco reached out for his arm, just as he Apparated away and they landed in front of Harry's home side by side.