A/N: Holla to my beta sordid_humors! You are radaliscious. Yup. It's a word.

Chapter 3

The music pounded but Draco didn't hear it, too focused on scanning the dance floor as thoroughly as possible from his slightly limited vantage point at the bar. He also didn't hear Blaise talking to him over the steady, reverberating beat.

"Ow! You shit, what was that for?" Draco demanded, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hitting you was apparently the only way to bring you back to earth," Blaise replied. "You can stop playing vulture. Your boy's right there." He gestured to the middle of the dance floor.

Draco followed his friend's gaze, finally setting eyes on the black-haired boy who, quite obviously, was more than enjoying himself. His lithe frame was entangled with another man's, who was devouring Harry's neck.

"Looks like he's a little busy," Blaise prodded, chancing a quick glance at Draco with a smirk.

"Hmm," Draco hummed, as non-chalant as possible, taking a sip of his liquor. He brought down the glass and licked his lips. "Yes, well, not for long."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at the blond. Draco ignored him, handing over his drink with an offhanded, "hold this."

Draco sauntered onto the dance floor, slow and confident. He felt several people's eyes on him. He could feel their gazes skim up and down his body. He looked good. He'd made damn sure of that before he'd left the house...

~.~.~

"Blaise!" he had hollered as he was getting ready. "Blaise, get in here!"

"OHH MYYY GOODD," came the brunet's voice from the other room. "Draco! For fuck's sake, I've been in and out of here 50 times. That's quite enough exercise for me. I don't want to be too good looking." Blaise appeared at the bedroom door, leaning casually against the frame.

"Yes, well, if you'd just stay in here, you wouldn't have to be breaking a sweat."

"This may come as a shock to you, Drake, but I don't fancy watching you change."

Draco finished adjusting his collar in the mirror, and turned to face his friend. "You're right, that does shock me." He opened his hands, waiting for input on his new attire.

Blaise paused. "Drake, what's diff -"

"Everything! Everything is different, Blaise!" he huffed. Seriously, some people were positively blind when it came to fashion. It made him wonder why he was giving weight to Blaise's opinion-oh yes! Because there was no one else and so Draco was forced to settle. "It doesn't matter. Just – how does it look?"

Blaise had surveyed Draco from head to toe. He was wearing a dark green, silk button-up that would have appeared black if it wasn't for the subtle sheen of color that flashed in the light with Draco's every movement. The sleeves were folded to three-quarter length, and the top couple buttons of his collar left undone. He wore black jeans that left little to the imagination, and were topped off with a pair of slick cow-boy reminiscent boots. Strands of blond fell casually over Draco's brow.

Blaise sighed. "I'm going to be honest. You look very… fuckable. Hell, I'd do you."

Draco smirked. "I'm free tomorrow night, if you're interested."

With a roll of his eyes, Blaise had turned and left the doorway. "In your dreams, Malfoy."

~.~.~

Now, Draco was gliding through the crowd, bee-lining straight for the two writhing boys, both of whom he couldn't stop picturing underneath him; one, whose ass he'd pound with his cock, the other whose face he'd pound with his fist.

There was a flash of orange, and someone had him by the arm, and the first thing Draco thought of was how his shirt was likely getting wrinkled in the sweaty grip. He tore his eyes away from his target and focused on the alarmingly red person in front of him.

Red everything;. red hair, red freckles, and an alarmingly red face, flushed with anger.

"Oh, no you don't," the ginger spat. "Not again. You had your fun, Malfoy. I'll kill Harry for it, but I can forgive the guy, he's only human. But you! You're not human-you're pure asshole, in more ways than one I'm sure. And I'll be buggered if I let you get to Harry a second time."

Draco wasn't sure if he was more inclined to yell or laugh. He ripped his arm from Ron's grip and smoothed his sleeve pretentiously, a disgusted look on his elegant features.

"Cool it, mongrel. You'll mess yourself." He sneered down at Ron for another brief moment then allowed his gaze to drift over the red head's shoulder, finding Harry again-Harry, who remained oblivious to their altercation. "Besides," he added. "You're not the one who's about to be buggered."

"Why I oughta-" Ron looked right about ready to take a swing, but someone grabbed hold of his shoulders before he could get his fist back far enough.

"Ron!" The girl scolded. "Don't. It's not worth it."

"What planet are you from, Hermione? It's more than worth it."

The girl looked up at Draco, appearing almost apologetic.

"I'm sorry," she started. "Ron is… well he's harmless, really."

The blond looked at the sputtering, freckle-faced boy in disdain, then raised an eyebrow at this "Hermione." "You don't say…" he muttered.

She offered out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger. And you've clearly met Ron Weasley."

Draco wasn't entirely pleased about spending precious minutes making mindless chit-chat when he should have been on the prowl to get back into Harry's pants, but he figured if these two rejects were the boy's mates, then getting chummy with them could only help his cause.

He took Hermione's hand in a firm shake. "Draco Malfoy. Now, would you mind leashing your friend? I've got business to attend to."

Okay, so "chummy" had never been his strong suit but at least he wasn't making enemies. Well, the girl, anyway. Draco was pretty sure Weasley was a lost cause.

Hermione began to tug Ron away by the arm. "Come along, Ron. I'll get you a drink."

"'Mione, I can't believe you! You're just going to let this guy-"

"It's none of our business, Ron!"

As they slipped away, however grudgingly, Draco couldn't help but think how little he was looking forward to spending any sort of time with the two of them.

Getting back on track, Draco perused the crowd again, until he found the object of his fascination. Harry was still with the same bloke, and as the blond observed the pair getting hot and heavy on the dance floor, he realized that if he wanted to catch Harry before he zipped off to a back room, he was running out of time.

"Mind if I cut in?" Draco suggested, taking a slightly over-aggressive grip on the stranger's shoulder.

Startled, the young guy left the crevice of Harry's neck long enough to look up at Draco like he was crazy. "Yeah, I mind a fair bit, actually," he said.

But the raven-haired boy put out a preventive hand when his dance partner tried to pick up where they'd left off. He straightened up slightly and smirked at Draco.

"Well, well, Malfoy, that was fast. I was that good, eh?"

Draco scoffed. "You flatter yourself. Blaise dragged me here."

Harry's smug grin suggested he wasn't fooled. "Sure."

"Hey, mate, do you mind?" Harry's admirer interjected, clearly frustrated by the interruption. "We were kind of in the middle of something."

Before Draco could respond, Harry was suddenly creating distance between them. "Actually, I think I'm going to take a break. And since you don't own me, I'm going to go ahead and presume that's okay," he said with an accusatory snarl.

The third wheel raised his hands in defense, shaking his head. "Whatever." In two seconds, he was gone.

"So how about that drink?" the musician said, turning to Draco.

"What are you on about, Potter?"

"Oh, come off it, Malfoy, we both know you were about to offer."

It was a statement he couldn't argue with; instead, he followed Harry to the bar.

"Two Butter Ales, please Marty," Draco said, tossing down payment with a generous tip.

"Sure thing," the bartender answered cheerily.

"Butter Ale. Nice choice," Harry commented.

Draco grabbed his glass as the bartender set it down and took his first sip. "I know."

He tried not to look at Harry. He even made a point of obviously checking out other guys. Two could play the cocky game.

"So," Harry said, slipping onto a stool. "What is it, exactly, that you do, Malfoy? One of your father's minions I presume?"

Draco scoffed. "Far from it, Potter. Your presumptions are naive."

Harry gestured expectantly. "Care to elaborate?"

At this, Draco looked him the eye. He wasn't sure he was prepared to have this conversation with Potter. "I'm a law intern. Let's leave it at that."

The brunet didn't question Draco's evasiveness. "Law. Wow, I'm not sure if I should be impressed, or bored."

"Bored?" Draco repeated, insulted.

"Well, blokes with flashy jobs tend to get a little cocky- But now I just expect more from you. You just raised your own bar."

Draco shot him a look of disbelief, which, despite his efforts, turned into an amused grin. "A little cocky? You're one to talk, you high maintenance little shit."

Harry shrugged. "Just tired of putting up with people's crap. I filter to avoid wasting my time."

"Hmm…" Draco hummed. "Well, I guess I can't fault you for that." He looked around, and caught sight of Blaise, chatting up a couple of bottle-blondes. Draco shivered at the sheer profusion of make-up that smothered their equally mediocre faces, and the blatant competition they were having to see who could be the first to get arrested for indecent exposure. Maybe the women wanted to blow a cop in the back of his patrol cruiser more than they wanted Blaise. Their flirtatious giggling was nauseating and Draco couldn't contain an irritated sigh. How incredibly undignified, he thought.

Harry chuckled. "A little revolting isn't it?"

"That's the understatement of the year," Draco sneered. He finished his beer in a final large gulp. "I hate straight bars."

"Been to The Rooster?"

"The men's club down on Grimmauld? Once or twice," Draco confirmed. "I've had some pretty memorable nights there; or at least, nights that started there."

"Let's go then."

Draco looked at Harry in question. "What?"

"We should go. It's barely five minute's walk. The bartender there is always giving me free drinks and the dance music's bloody good-not this bollocks. Plus," he added with a grin, "there are go-go boys.

Draco gave a light laugh and gestured to the door. "Lead the way, then," he said. "I'll meet you by the door. I'll just let Blaise know I'm ditching him. Not like he'll miss me."

"He should come. We might be able to turn him," Harry joked.

Draco laughed. "Impossible. Trust me, he's straighter than a number two pencil." With a smirk, he headed in his friend's direction.

"Sorry for the interruption, ladies," he said, positive the slags had no understanding of the sarcasm that was dripping from his tone. He gave them a forced smile and then looked to Blaise. "Zabini, I'm outta here."

Blaise's expression fell. "That bad, eh? See, I told you-should've played by the three day rule. But don't leave, I'm sure we can find-"

"No, no, I'm leaving with him." Draco finished, cutting him off. "We're going to the Rooster."

"Ah," Blaise said with a nod. "The Land of Your Kind. Gotchya."