Disclaimer: Everything still belongs to other people who actually get paid.

Warnings: Mentions of sex-related themes, bit of fluff and OOC-ness.

A/N: Fixed a couple of errors in this chapter.


Chapter 7: Trouble in Hogsmeade

Draco woke slowly the next morning, full of the memory of the previous night. His date, Kellen Bundy, had turned out to be the new Potions teacher at Hogwarts. As young as he looked, he was actually only about three years younger than Draco himself. He was spending most of his summer in and out of Hogsmeade, where he currently resided, but he travelled frequently to continue his studies in Italy and France. He had assured Draco that he was not interested in a long-term relationship, as both his own education and his work at the school took up the bulk of his time.

They hadn't done what Draco considered much after a few drinks in the pub; just some snogging, and Draco had let Kel suck him off. He had been surprised that Kel seemed to have quite a lot of experience in that department. Draco tried not to consider that too carefully, as he was fairly certain he didn't want to know where a Hogwarts teacher acquired such skills. While he hoped it wasn't with underage students, the idea of learning from the other professors—most of whom were thrice Kel's age and had been Draco's own teachers—was equally off-putting.

Shoving those thoughts from his mind, Draco stretched and yawned, cracking his neck slightly in the process. He rose from the bed to have a shower before going about his day.

When Draco at last emerged downstairs, Blaise greeted him cheerfully, a knowing look in his eye. Draco ignored this; he wasn't interested in having a conversation about what he and Kel got up to the previous night. Fortunately, Blaise was a good enough friend not to pry. Instead, he turned his attention to Draco's actual reason for being in Hogsmeade.

"You might want to have a plan in mind, mate. People are talking about those adverts you put up the other day."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Saw them when I was out sending this morning's post. Go look."

Draco stepped out into the street and hiked back down the hill. When he rounded the corner, he saw that Blaise had been right. People were clustered about one of the street-lamps where an advert hung. Listening in on their conversations, it quickly became clear to Draco that several people had wanted to take up the problem with the Town Councillor and had called for an assembly. One of the men appeared to be explaining to the others what was going on, urging them to join him for the meeting.

A good number of residents and business owners were already on their way to the Three Broomsticks to discuss the matter. Thinking fast, Draco Accio'd his broomstick and followed the crowd.

Inside the Three Broomsticks, the Town Councillor stood up among the assembled witches and wizards. Draco nearly groaned. H wasn't sure which Weasley it was, he only knew it wasn't the one who had been his year at Hogwarts, nor his father. This one appeared considerably older than the one, but clearly much younger than the other. However, there was absolutely no mistaking his resemblance to his family. With a start, Draco realised that this was the same one he had seen outside Potter's shop a few days prior.

The problem looked to be a matter of whether the Councillor would insist on taking down the adverts and shutting down the flight school before it happened. The villagers seemed to be split on the matter. Many were curious, but some of them, especially older residents, were wary. They spent a good thirty minutes arguing over the issue.

This was where Draco came in. He stood up and cleared his throat loudly enough to draw attention. Heads swivelled in his direction. Councillor Weasley raised his brows in surprise, but made no attempt to silence Draco.

"Friends, I have only just arrived here, and already I have seen the problem. It's obvious to me that what this village needs is something to occupy the children. You don't feel safe letting them out of your sight, but this isn't good for them." There was a gasp from the crowd, but Draco held up his hands. "I'm sure your decision to shelter them was made with the best of intentions. Even so, it would appear that the consequences were not taken into account."

A murmur rippled through the room. This was exactly what Draco had been hoping for. He continued, "It's one thing to protect your children. It's another to shelter them so that they never have the chance to explore their world. Once they grow up, the incautious among them are likely to wonder if anything we've told them is true or if it's only founded on fear. When they enter the world at large, they will lose all their caution, even among Muggles. We will be at risk of exposure by those who think their families lied to them about the the dangers." He could clearly see heads nodding, so he pressed on.

"I have come to offer an alternative. I propose that what our children need is a new pastime, something fresh to relieve their fears and teach them that our world still has something of value for them." Draco produced his broomstick. "This, right here, is a world-class stunt broom. If you follow me, I will demonstrate its use."

For a moment, no one moved. Then a couple of the older children got up from their seats. Parents, reluctant to allow their children to follow a stranger, came behind them.

Draco led the villagers out into the field beyond the main street. Most of them had seemed wary when he'd invited them to come for the demonstration, but as they gathered, Draco could sense them warming to the idea. He motioned to everyone to pay attention and announced that he would be demonstrating some skills. He held his broomstick gently, remembering what it had felt like to fly the other day. Gracefully, he mounted and took off.

The Razor Edge wasn't built for speed, but for skill. Draco took his time, looping in slow circles, picturing in his mind the complicated turns. He hovered for a moment, then entered a forward-momentum spiral roll, angled toward the ground. At the last moment, he pulled out of the roll and pointed the tip of the broomstick upward, stopping short of hitting the ground.

Draco took off again, performing several of his preferred loops and flips. The crowd responded favourably, oohing and aahing in appreciation. He ended the demonstration with one of his best, hanging upside down with one leg secured around the broomstick, simply suspended in mid-air, before flipping himself upright and diving downward, once more pulling up short just before impact.

Panting, he dismounted. He felt all the tension leave his shoulders, leaving only the exhilaration of the ride. He leaned his broom against a shrub.

As the applause began to die down, he held up his hand. "I want you to imagine a dozen people, all performing the stunts simultaneously. What a spectacular show!"

The crowd buzzed excitedly. Draco took advantage of the movement to call out that if anyone was interested in signing up, they should bring their children to be measured for broomsticks and robes. He explained that payment was due at the time of joining. About two thirds of the families in attendance queued up beside him.

Draco pulled out a measuring tape and set it to begin sizing the children. He pulled out a quill and parchment, taking notes as the tape measure squealed out its findings. Beside each marking, he noted the child's name and age. He collected the money from their parents.

When he was finished, he folded up the parchment and put it back in his bag, along with the tape measure and the sackful of money he had collected. He began gathering his possessions. When he looked up, he saw that someone was watching him.

Leaning against a tree, just beyond the fence surrounding the Shack, was Potter. His arms were folded across his chest, his ankles crossed. He looked casual, but there was something vaguely menacing about him that made Draco shudder. He tried to shake it off, but apprehension clung to him, causing his stomach to twist. He debated whether or not he should approach or simply leave well enough alone.

Potter pushed himself away from the tree and stepped toward Draco, who resisted the urge to back away. Something told Draco that the next time he wouldn't be let off with a slight flush and a sore wrist. He stayed put, eyeing Potter warily.

"Nice stunts. That what you'll be teaching these kids?"

"Well, they won't learn that in a single summer, will they? But yes, that's the idea."

"I'm keeping an eye on you."

"You do that, Mr. Potter."

With a slight grunt, Potter turned and stalked away. He obviously possessed more self-control than Draco had given him credit for. Draco had been expecting fallout of epic proportions, yet all he received was a stern warning—no mention of what had happened at dinner. Startled, he realised that as much as Potter had affected him, he was getting under Potter's skin as well—something he'd sorely missed over the last fifteen years. A tiny fire ignited in him, burning with pleasure at knowing that he hadn't lost his touch. He reminded himself that Potter certainly deserved to feel discomfited after what he'd done to Draco the previous night.

Draco collected his broomstick and his lists, ready to return to the village. He spent the rest of the day milling about the village. He stopped in at various shops, making small talk with the people working there. At every opportunity, he mentioned that he would be teaching flight school to the children. At least a half dozen more children signed up. When all was said and done, Draco had twenty-five children measured for broomsticks and robes.

Even so, at the end of the afternoon it wasn't the sales or the flight that was on Draco's mind. He couldn't escape the image of Potter, leaning against that tree, watching him. He berated himself mentally for allowing Potter to take up space in his brain. That just wouldn't do when he had so much else to think about.

He decided to send Kel an owl instead.