Disclaimer: Although I wish I could make money off of fanfiction, I am reminded that I do not own any of these characters, except maybe Leliana. The point is that J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. own it all and I just choose to spend countless hours using their characters for my musings.

AN: For all of you who are reading this and wondering why this has updated and Reminiscent has not, never fear. Reminiscent's newest chapter is actually under beta and I am just waiting for it to return to me so that I may share with you. I've been feeling pretty inspired for this story lately so you may be getting more soon. I do hope that you review, as it guilts me into updating faster and I love seeing what you have to say. Just a reminder, Draco Malfoy is an explicit thinker and doer, so if you are looking for less explicit men, you may not want to continue on.

To Moonlightwolfwhisper: Curious as always, I see. Thank you for such a thoughtful and concise review.

To AlineDaryen : Playboy!Draco is very much a part of my head!canon. I am thankful that you thought my writing nice enough to overlook such trifles. 3

To Acceptancewriter: Hopefully you did!

Tiliapetiolaris: I do so solemnly swear that next chapter will be a bit more difficult for Draco. Unfortunately it isn't his charm that is his downfall, but rather his connections, past, and ambition.

Musicrocks129: Thanks for the review.

He felt it somewhere far off. The throbbing in his hand was as consistent as the lively beat in the club he got pissed in last night. Draco knew the tempo of pain throbbing from the tips of his fingers to the edge of his dark mark would never stop, unlike the hangover that was already in full swing. Making a quick sweep of his bedside table without daring open his eyes he had made quick work of the drawn curtains and was summoning the hangover potion that he visualized on his counter in the other room. It too was choked back, before he did a sweep with his bad hand to the other half of his bed. Occupied.

Draco racked his brain for a short moment before the form beside him, laughed. Laughed at Draco Malfoy while he was in this ridiculous state, that was unheard of. Before Draco had time to properly scathe, some long, slender fingers had taken him by the shoulder and rolled him over on top of a muscular frame. Definitely male. Avoided cursed hand. Must know the man particularly. Before Draco began wondering if it was worth opening his eyes out of curiosity, a familiar voice came to him.

"Stop wondering who I am, Malfoy. It's just Theo." Draco wondered if he looked visibly relieved after the news. At least, he knew he had a good time last night. The blonde stretched and used Nott's shoulder as a pillow.

"Just you, Nott? You always leave before sunup. You normally put a nice little announcement card on my sink, with exactly what I missed last night. Why didn't you leave?" A bit curious at what his words might do, Draco opened his eyes cautiously. With how Theo was laying, however he just had a nice view of a fit chest with sparse hair. Too much effort. Lazily, his eyes slid shut once more.

"Honestly Malfoy, you don't remember? You begged me to come in. You had something you were particularly interested in…" With a solid push, Theo was stark naked on the floor, tangled in the sheets that unfortunately went with him.

An irritated groan escaped the blonde's lips before he pulled at the sheet on the other side of him.. "Too early for witty banter, get out." Theo's wholesome laugh filled the room and after some rustling, the door clicked behind him. Suspicious of what kind of payback Theo had awaiting him, Draco opened his eyes again. His room was as it always was. The curtains were shut tight, everything was righted except the doors to his balcony. The doors were letting in the cold air from the early morning. There it was. On the floor in the light emitted from the balcony was an awkward shadow. Draco lay there for several moments wondering what it was that must be dangling from the balcony and as his hangover faded, Draco slid out of bed onto his feet. Pulling the sheet with him Draco found a pair of men's knickers enlarged and hanging from the balcony with some writing on it. As Draco reached for them, he realized that the sheet he was trying to cover himself with was tied to the corner of his four poster. Draco summoned a pair of pants and shoved them on before boldly walking out to pick up the boxers.

Two stories below Draco's veranda his mother's favorite rose garden flourished. Narcissa looked up from her cuttings to glance flatly up at him. Haughtily she returned to her white roses and ignored him. Looking at Theo's item, it said clearly in gold glitter, 'Theo Nott was here.' Draco rolled his eyes and walked back in out of the cold breeze. Theodore Nott so had it coming. Maybe he'd hire a goblin hooker and send her to his apartment later. Oh wait, Marietta Edgecombe would probably be cheaper. Smirking, he went off to shower. He'd have to make it up to his mother if he was going to pursue a conversation with Potter soon.'

After having been properly showered and scolded respectively, Narcissa Malfoy removed her delicate fingers from the fine silver spoon that rested in her tomato bisque and dropped them in her lap. She sat impossibly straighter in her chair and that simple cue was all Draco needed to stop ignoring his mother's words about 'besmirching the Malfoy name,' because now she was moving on to business.

"Now, if it is your plan to befriend Mr. Potter and his friends then I might have something for you. Just as long as you represent us well, of course." Narcissa added, her icy indignation in full swing.

The next thing that Draco Malfoy knew he was submitting his manila parchment to Leliana, who seemed less surprised by his leaving before lunch than chocolate frogs hopping. His secretary knew too much. The funny thing about Slytherins is that Slytherins can always trust Slytherins to protect themselves first. If there was any benefit that Leliana may find in knowing the personal information of her boss, she wasn't talking. Her salary was far too high to even consider double-crossing him. Leliana looked like she could be family, her pointy nose and waves of blonde hair have Draco's clients checking their calling cards a second time. What makes her unmistakably not Malfoy was her bright brown eyes. There wasn't a brown eye the pureblood lineage. Those same eyes were looking up at him long-sufferingly now.

"A personal friend of yours called in a few minutes ago. She plans to have lunch with you. What should I tell her?" Leliana asked, her quick-notes quill popping out of the drawer to her left.

"Which one?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I think it is rather disturbing that you just asked that question."Leliana said, hiding her face from his scrutiny.

"Wow, aren't you opinionated this morning? I find it disturbing that my secretary doesn't have anything more important to do then trade witty banter with her boss. Who is it Leliana?"

"Miss Lovegood left a curious note for you this morning."

"Miss Lovegood isn't a personal friend, Leliana. I don't know her personally. Merlin, I was thinking someone like Lavender Brown was calling- again." Draco tried not to physically shiver at the idea of Lavender's grabby hands on him once more. "Better let me see it then."

I need legal support concerning the content of Quibbler. If you are up for the challenge, give me a firecall.

Luna Lovegood (Editor)

There was an exceedingly large inkblot at the bottom of the scroll that seemed to be covering something, with that in mind he looked casually at his secretary who was grinning. Of course, she would be curious enough to know.

"And?"

She coughed politely and looked up at him, "You would be representing the Quibbler against the Prophet, if you should feel so inclined." She giggled.

"And?"

"Also, she says you should consider burning this document because its ink makes the most splendid smell when burned."

Draco arched an eyebrow and promptly pocketed the note. "Do call upon her." With that he was in the fire and at the banquet, straightening his dark blue muggle tie. This world would not change. It was and always has been about silk tablecloths and being better than their acquaintance. As a child, he was expected to attend all of these dull outings with bells on. He still remembered the first time he hid in his mother's robes and his father postured him correctly away from his mother's clutches. He said, "Stand on your own son, or no one will respect you."

He wondered if he internalized that too much or if it was true of everyone. As he looked across the room, each wizard stood as an island. Looking around for familiar faces, he spotted the female Weasley at once. Money had been good to her. Harry Potter was not far behind; money had been kind to him too. So was that position in the Auror's department to be honest. He wasn't gangly and scrawny any longer, but definitely a bit more toned. He looked like he had grown into his ruddy glasses or maybe it was the other way around. As Draco politely looked to the first of his mother's acquaintances, he caught a glimpse of that uncomfortable expression that was entirely Potter disappear into a champagne glass. Draco lost sight of the pair then with acquaintance after acquaintance wanting to trade pleasantries with the "most handsome of Malfoys since Abraxas."

It must have continued on for a full hour before the heavens opened up and sent Mrs. Zabini to him. She looked deeply satisfied with herself as Draco offered his arm to her at her polite prompt. It was hard to believe that she was his mother's age, but it wasn't hard to believe that had had so many husbands. Dressed in cutting edge muggle-fashion with her finest Malkin robes across her shoulders, Mrs. Zabini was a fox. Blaise got all of his looks from her too. It was obvious why they were able to move in such extinguished circles, even if they weren't old money. At the edge of the room near the balcony that was the only source of air in the stale company she smirked at him with her bright red lips.

"Tell me love, how is my dear Mrs. Malfoy?"

Before Draco could offer his bland excuse for his mother's absence, she cleared her throat.

"I assume she is well enough to send a note to me detailing your devious plan." She nodded ever so slightly in the direction of the veranda off to one side of them and Draco really owed her for this. He kissed her hand respectfully and she rolled her eyes. Then she disappeared in a whirl of expensive fabrics, leaving only the clicking of shoes as evidence of his escape from the room.

There was no one on the balcony as Draco took in the view. Mrs. Flamel's mansion overlooked the Italian countryside and although he had been here several times before, it was always nice to realize that Mother Nature always outdoes herself with the view. The heat from the direct sunlight was exactly why the balcony was empty at this time of day. Old Money might melt at the idea of direct sun, much less the real thing. Another thing that set the Zabini's apart. He was certain that Blaise could live off of sunlight alone.

Glancing around, Draco undid the smart blue tie he was wearing a bit, so that he could undo the first button. His finest black cloak over his grey business suit was starting to get a little too uncomfortable when a voice came from somewhere behind him. "Malfoy?" The curious voice seemed more shocked than disconcerted of his presence, which was good to hear.

He stood a bit taller and when he turned around, he fixed his face into a very aristocratic smile. Ginerva Weasley was flushed a bit by the Sun or perhaps by Draco's direct gaze was a far bit off. Remembering his tie, he pretended to be put off by his disheveled appearance. Being too pious and buttoned-up will put newcomers off. She was no different. "It is a pleasure, Miss Weasley. I hope your family is well."

Draco was rewarded with the look of shock that painted her face at his civility. It was strange. Had she truly expected him to insult her? Potter had all the publicity. Publicity was something that his family was not exactly distinguished in for the past few years. It would do Draco no service to pick fights with people who were seen in the newspapers weekly. It did sound enticing though.

"They are. And yours?" Ginny replied, her politeness faulting into curiosity. Harry Potter appeared then, handing her a flute of champagne eyeing him suspiciously over her shoulder.

True to character a brass, "Malfoy, what are doing here?" swept from the Savior's lips like he had only known one phrase his entire life. Maybe he had. Malfoy couldn't restrain the smirk that crossed his mouth then, settling for a glance at Ginerva's green tea-length dress. Taking the glass from Harry a bit too harshly, she rolled her eyes at him. "Malfoy was just asking about the family, Harry. Merlin, I think you're worse at these things than my actual brothers sometimes."

"Why does he want to know?" Harry asked his friend. With that Draco felt his accusations worthy of crossing his arms in distain. She elbowed him, with which spilled out, "Ouch! Okay, why are you here?"

Ginny looked over at Draco once more, exasperated at how Harry was acting. Draco took that as a cue to answer. "I suppose that I am here to do the same as you. Invest money into a charity to assist those that cannot assist themselves." Draco looked away from Harry who was rubbing at his smarting rib, his expression close to guilty.

"And to answer the question you asked before Miss Weasley, my mother is under the weather today. This is her favorite charity event and she did not want to miss it entirely, so she sent me in her stead. My father is as well as can be expected. Do send my regards to your brother, Bill Weasley. I see him from time to time at Gringotts. He is exceedingly helpful with some of the vaults." Draco said simply. Stealing a glance at Harry, it was clear his plan to guilt the Golden Boy was working. "Now, if you don't mind, I believe I will excuse myself for some of that champagne. Draco sauntered a few steps into the doorway when Potter's call stopped him.

Sounding defeated, Harry jogged to Malfoy's side. Hiding his victorious smirk, Draco turned to look at him. Had Potter always been a few inches shorter than him? "I apologize for my…er…rudeness. It's-"

Draco flashed his white teeth at him. "Old habits die hard, Potter. I hope you two are enjoying a very happy engagement." Harry looked astounded that someone had gotten part of his life so completely incorrect. Draco was astounded that this was working so well. Potter looked over his shoulder at Ginerva who was shaking her head at Harry.

"Malfoy, Harry and I aren't-" Draco pretended to be surprised as he looked over them, remembering all of the titles that newspaper had written about their breakup.

"Well, I apologize. Forgive me if I don't keep up with the newspaper articles these days." Ginerva looked over at Harry, exchanging faces of serendipity. This was just too easy.

"Does that mean?" Draco allowed his eyes to rake over Harry's body from head-to-toe, methodically. He wasn't too surprised to see Harry's face turning red.

"Mean what?" Harry asked, all seriousness returning to his voice. Ginny for her part, finished off her champagne in a gulp. It felt natural to stand-up to his full height under the intense gaze of his one-time nemesis.

Draco smiled as genuine as he could and let the words curve of his tongue quietly. "I hope you don't mind me saying Potter, but you'd be quite a catch for any man." Harry looked past the three of them, not an ear in sight. Harry's eyes narrowed and Draco knew he was walking on eggshells. Draco found himself indulging an eye roll at the dramatic way Harry was looking at him.

"Potter, I don't blame you for assuming everything I say has some sort of malice behind it, but let me assure you-" Draco moved in ever so slightly, looking at either side of their group for emphasis. He spoke a bit quieter, "I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors." Without a second glance Draco disappeared into the crowd of older women and men to mingle.

Harry stared after him, trying his best not to make an awkward face. Without looking at Ginny he asked, "Did he just joke with us?"

Ginny looked over at him, trying to decide whether she should be amused or confused. "Never mind that Harry, I think he just complimented you."

It had been a week since the charity event and neither hide nor hair of Potter or his friends has turned up. Narcissa was nowhere to be seen, but glancing at the clock in the front hall, he knew that she would be visiting Lucius for a bit longer. He was sort of relieved, considering that his mother had been nonchalantly rubbing it in that the plan was "not as iron-clad" as her son has thought. Thinking on the discussion that he'd had with his mother just this morning was tiresome. His mother had also reminded him that his father was growing impatient with Draco's convenient lack of visits for the past month. He'd have to deal with that soon. One of the house elves approached him as soon as he had taken his cloak off with a letter for him. Ripping the letter open was all he could do in the stead of letting out a satisfied 'whoop' in the halls. It was in Ginny's hand.

Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,

Harry and I wanted to apologize for how we acted toward you when we saw you last. It is clear that you have changed a lot since Hogwarts and we would like to extend this invitation to you and a friend for our Annual Quidditch Push-offs Party on the 25th of July around 8 pm. The Holyhead Harpies' Banquet Hall will be where we intend to watch the first game of the season.

Harry doesn't always know how to act in these sort of functions and you were right when you told him that 'old habits die hard.' Hopefully we could all move toward a more civil and sociable understanding.

Cheers,

Ginerva Weasley

P.S. Owl this letter back with an R.S.V.P at your earliest convenience.

The second half of the invitation was handwritten and he was certain that Harry Potter almost had no idea that his friend had even done something so very bold. Still he was thankful to catch a break. He looked at the clock's face again. Just a quarter after three and he owed that Blaise a galleon for their wager over the whole affair. Folding the note and placing it in his back pocket, Draco continued up the stairs to his rooms. Speaking of Blaise, he owed Blaise's mother-that saint a gift as well.