Corresponding Enemy Chapter-Pomp and Circumstance: After Leolin and Draco get engaged at the Hogwarts Graduation Party, they all head to The Emerald Crocodile to celebrate.

Like A Lonely House—A Love Story Told in Nineteen Parts


Part VII


Its about nine by the time I get the the pub, and I sneer up at the worn sign above the door.

The Petty Diplomat. Gryffindor's own watering hole, and definitely one of the circles of my personal Hell.

It's the one place I swore as a Slytherin I would never go—even a year out of Hogwarts the combination of scarlet and gold makes me nauseous—but one of the Patil sisters (honestly, who can tell them apart) told me Ginny was here, and I need her.

I mean, Leolin needs her. I know Drake will be annoyed I've brought her—if I can convince her, that is—but it's Leolin's night, too, maybe more so than Drake, actually, since she's the bride, and I know it won't be complete unless Ginny there to celebrate with her. On a more selfish note, I haven't spoken to Ginny since they day we almost kissed over six months ago, and I'm desperate to see her again. I know she's still dating that prat Wood, but I don't really care. I just want to be around her, even if its just for the evening.

I sigh and head for the door; no point in delaying the agony any longer. Besides, the sooner I get in, the sooner I can see Ginny. I've already resigned myself to the fact she's probably here with Wood, but please Gods don't let her brother be here, too.

There a bloke sitting the door—I want to say his name is Jordan Lee—and I try to slide casually past as if I haven't seen him. No dice. He's on his feet immediately, scowling at me. He has the same stupid hairdo he'd had when we were at Hogwarts, and I fight not to sneer at him. I know that's not going to help.

"Oy," he snaps at me. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Inside?" I venture, trying not to sound overly haughty. Too late, I failed.

"I don't think so," he scoffed at me. "I know who you are. You're Malfoy's mate. Zambini?"

"Zabini," I reply. "And I fail to see why that matters."

"We don't allow Slytherins in here. Suppose you were to burn the place down or something!"

"I'm not here to committ arson, amusing as that would be," I said in a cool voice. "I have a friend inside and I just need to speak to them."

"A friend?" he repeats derisively.

"Friend," I drawl. "From the Old English frēon, meaning 'to love'. A person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations."

Though not devoid of sexual feelings, in this case, I think dryly to myself.

"I know what it means, you dolt," he grits out. "But who could you possibly friends with who's a Gryff?"

"It's not against the rules to have friends in other houses," I point out, patience waning. "My friend Lef dated Potter, didn't she?"

"Yeah," he sneers. "And look how well that turned out."

"Oh grow up," I say, trying to shoulder past him. He's not a big bloke, but he's scrappy, and he manages to scramble in my way.

"Jog on, Zambini," he demands, and I am sorely tempted to punch him in the face. However, I know if I do, I'm definitely not going to see Ginny tonight.

"Fine," peeling a glittering twenty galleon note from my wallet and offering it to him. "Satisfied?"

"You can't buy me off with twenty gals!" he cries, sounding offended.

Oh for the love of Merlin.

"How about two hundred, then?" I grit out.

"No!" he repeats, though I can tell he's tempted. Who wouldn't be?

"Take the money," I said through clenched teeth. "Or I will tell Malfoy you're personally trying to ruin his engagement party with Lefevre and that you're working here until the pub closes."

I can see the fear flash in his eyes, and I tuck the note in his breast pocket and pat him codescendingly on the cheek.

"Have a good night, dread-head."

Without turning to watch his reaction, I slip inside and fight not the gag. It looks like the inside of a giant circus tent, and there's a huge stuffed lion wearing a crown mounted on the wall. It's making me ache for the sleek lines of the Em. Focus, Z. The quicker you find Ginny, the quicker you can split. Also the quicker you find her, the quicker you can see her.

I scan the room quickly and don't immediately see her, but the place is packed, and I recognise a few faces I can ask, if need be. I turn to do another pass with my eyes, errantly trying to decide if I actually want to get a whiskey while I look, and as I turn, someone slams into me.

"Oh, sorry, mate!" the bloke begins. "I didn't—" he trails off when he sees who I am.

"Kelly," I said in a glib voice. "Good to see you. It's been an age."

I shouldn't be such a prat. Troy admittedly seems like a nice enough bloke, if somewhat boring, and the girl i suspect he's probably still in love with just got engaged to a bloke I'm such he hates. I do hope, for his sake, that he doesn't know that yet. I'm sure he doesn't, though he will soon enough, and I don't envy him when he finds out.

"What are you doing here, Zabini?" he snaps.

"Looking for Weasley, actually. Haven't seen her by any chance, have you?"

"Piss off," he sneers at me.

Clearly this is going nowhere fast.

"Brilliant," I say coolly. "Good chat."

I can already see Lavender Brown stands a ways off talking to the other Patil twin, and that's where I head instead.

"Go to hell," he shoots back.

What a prince.

"Oy, Brown," I call, approaching her and matching her glower with what I know is a panty-melting smile. I'm pleased to see it's not wholly ineffective.

"Zabini," she says, trying not to check me out as I approach her. Go ahead, darling, I'm tempted to tell her, take a look. I don't, though, knowing that being a nob isn't likely to get me far. "What do you want?"

"Haven't see Weasley around, have you?"

"Who's asking?" she asks, trading a look with the Patil twin. I can't keep back a little laugh.

"Well me, obviously."

"Then no."

"Oh c'mon, Lavender. Please. Draco proposed to Leolin tonight, and I just want to invite her to their engagement do."

She ignores my plea, looking behind me with scrunity instead.

"Pucey's not with you, is he?"

"No," I say, feigning insult, as if I hadn't been partying at Adrian's twenty minutes ago. "Why would he be?"

She considers me.

"She's with Oliver at the back bar," she says finally, indicating with her thumb.

"Cheers," I say flashing them both a devilish wink before heading in the direction she pointed.

As I get closer I finally catch sight of her, and my heart leaps to my throat. She's wearing this incredible Slytherin green dress with a faux jeweled collar along the top, and it looks incredible against her copper hair. She's looking away from me and smiling, and now my heart skips a beat. Merlin, why does she have to be such fucking perfection?

Get it together, Blaise, I warn myself. Come on too strong and she'll never come with you.

"Weasley," I call casually.

I haven't called her that in awhile, and it feels alien.

"Zabini," she answers mildly, brown eyes glittering. I think there's even a little smile tugging at her sexy lips, too, but I can't be sure that's not just my fanciful imagination. "what the fuck are you doing here? And how in Godric's name did you get in?"

"I paid Jordan what's-his-name two hundred galleons," I explain, and she gives a good natured eye roll, smile still teasing her lips. "And actually, I'm looking for you."

"What do you want, Zabini?" Wood says, and I finally deign to look at him.

To be honest, I have no idea what she sees in him. Maybe it's just because I'm admittedly a bit jealous of him, or maybe it's because I know I'm fantastic looking, but I find him very average. He's got deep-set eyes and a weirdly heavy brow, and his Scottish accent is thick and completely annoying.

I politely ignore his query.

"We're having an engagement thing for Drake and Lef at the Em," I tell Ginny, casually glancing at my watch as if to make sure I'm not late. "Thought you'd fancy joining for a bit."

She raises her eyebrows and folds her arms across her chest.

"You came all the way here and pay two hundreds gals to invite me to some crocodile-infested swamp party?"

"Well actually crocodiles live in salt water," I reply smoothing. "So if anything, I'd say it's more like a yacht party down the Nile."

"As if," she says, smiling at Wood as if to assure him she's not even considering going, even though I know she is.

"C'mon," I say. "It's Leolin's big night. She'll be sad if you aren't there. You can come too, Wood, if you want," I add coolly. "Or you can bring—Granger, or whoever."

"I'd rather burn in hell," Wood says dryly.

"Awesome," I reply in a tone I hope conveys how little I care. "Weasley?"

She glances at Wood, and he clenches his jaw a little, because he obviously knows what's coming next. I think I do, too, and I try not to hold my breath.

"Do you care?" she asks Wood, touching his arm. "He's right about Leolin."

"It's up to you," he says, giving her a small smile.

She considers this tepid answer before looking back at me.

"Alright," she concedes. "Just for a bit."

"Brilliant. Good seeing you, Wood," I tell him, despite the fact we're never actually been properly introduced.

"Hardly," he scoffs, and Ginny punches him playfully in the arm.

He's being annoying about the whole thing; I hope she thinks so, too.

"Right then," I say, glancing needlessly at my watch again. "You ready?"

She nods, leaning over to kiss Wood goodbye. It might just been my sour imagination, but it seems more wanton than necessary, though I suppose it didn't matter how brief she'd made it; I would hate watching her kiss him either way.

"I'll meet you back at the flat later," she assures him, and he seems to relax at that, even shooting me a brief but unmistakably triumphant look. I give him a cold smile in return, secretly thinking I should keep Ginny out as late as I possibly can to keep them from shagging it out later.

"Lead the way, then," she says, and for an absurd moment I think to grab her hand.

In front of her poncy boyfriend, Blaise? Get your head out of your arse.

Instead I just spin on the heels of my leather hightops, tucking my hands in my pockets as she follows me. I catch another glimpse of Troy on our way out, and he rolls his eyes caustically. I fight the urge to wink at him. That could get back to Wood instantly, and I've come too far to fail now.

I hold the door for Ginny, trying (and failing) not to glance at her shapely little arse when she steps through. I bet I could squeeze the whole thing in two good handfuls.

"So where is this Elysium of yours?" she asks as we get into the street. "I don't even know."

"Not far from Diagon," I say, jerking my head to the right to indicate we're headed down the street. "But we have to fetch the lads first. Can you walk in those shoes?"

She smirks.

"When you're this height, you learn how to walk in any heel."

I laugh. She is really tiny.

"It's not far," I say in response, leading the way.

"Are we going to your flat?" she asks. "I thought you lived in Belgravia."

"Hardly," I say. "I don't let those heathens party over there when I'm not there to babysit them."

"So where are we going?"

"Hmm?" I reply stupidly, not particularly keen to answer the question knowing how annoyed she'll be with the answer.

She doesn't fall for it, and she narrows her eyes.

"Who's flat are we going to, Blaise?"

God I love when she calls me that.

"We won't be there for long," I deflect again, and she gives a mildly bitter laugh.

"Oh, no no no," she says. "If you think I'm going to Pucey's for even one second, you are barking mad."

"Oh it will be for less than a minute, I swear. Besides, you're going to laugh when you see it."

"Does he have a self portrait on his ceiling of his bedroom so he could admire himself during sex?"

I laugh out loud, because I literally would not put something that ridiculous past him.

"Couldn't tell you," I say. "I make a point of avoiding his bedroom."

"Prudent," she says dryly. "I'm sure it's riddled with STIs. Do you think he sleeps in a bed, or just a coffin?"

I laugh again.

"I can see why you and Lef get on so well," I say mirthfully.

"That's her joke," she admitted, laughing a little, too.

"Thought it might be. Here we are."

I ascend the steps and she follows crossing her arms again.

I ring the bell, and Tommy, Adrian's twelve year old kid brother, answers.

"Hey kiddo," I say congenially, ruffling his hair and making him scowl. "AD still here?"

"He says they're just waiting on you," Tommy explains, eying Ginny but saying nothing to her. He's cute enough, but he's kind of a prat, too.

"That's because he's my little servant," I tell him, following him inside. "And you can him I said that."

Tommy laughs, pleased to be privy to my joke. We follow him into airy living room, and Ginny snorts. Everything about it screams, "My mummy and daddy are rich, and I like spending their money."

"What," she says to me quietly. "No prostitutes?"

"Not yet, it seems."

"Bloody finally!" Liam interrupts, giving me a shake. "We thought maybe you died."

"I've been gone twenty minutes."

"And we missed you ever second you were gone," he assures me. "Hey Weasley. Ready to get fucked up?"

"Do I have a choice?" she asks, smiling, and he laughs. Liam could get along with anyone.

"At the Em? Definitely not. We ready?"

Adrian emerges now, eyes glittering as he takes Ginny in. Her posture grows more defensive, but he shoots her a dazzling grin that makes me want to punch him in the face. The way he looks at women is admittedly infuriating.

"You can't be serious," he laughs condescendingly. "You're bringing Weasley?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I say.

"Drake's going to go mental!"

"Yeah," I say dryly. "And what do you suppose Lef's going to do when she sees you? Jump for joy?"

Leon laughs.

"You two still haven't buried the hachet, AD?"

Adrian gives a nasty smile.

"There just hasn't been a cold enough day in Hell yet."

"Do you fancy a drink before we go? I ask Ginny. "Seems like we have some catching up to do."

"I thought we were going," Adrian challenges.

"Don't be such a stingy host, Pucey," I chide him. "Merlin."

"I'm good," Ginny says.

"C'mon!" Liam says. "Just one shot!"

I glance at her for approval. I don't want her to feel like she has to.

"Double it and I'm in," she says.

"I knew I liked you!" Liam cries happily.

"Barkeep, another round!"

Adrian's already pouring five shots of whiskey, and we pass them out.

"To Drake and Lef," Liam says.

"And the fact their wedding is going to be the best fucking party ever," Leon adds.

"And here's hoping Adrian actually gets invited," I say, and the Faulkner's laugh.

Adrian gives another nasty little smile.

"And here's to the fact I never have to listen to Lefevre's fucking moaning ever again."

"Oh I will drink to that," Leon says, and we all cling glasses.

"And confusion to our enemies!" Liam says, and we tip our glasses back.

Ginny shudders as she sets her glass down, but then she smiles.

"I'm going to need about a hundred more of those."

"Then let's do it."

Adrian drops the wards, we head out the door, and the other three promptly disappear.

"So where am I going? she asks.

I see an opportunity, and the shot urges me on.

"Let's just side-along," I said prudently. "It's easier."

"Oh you wish, loverboy," she says dryly.

"Don't be dramatic," I tell her mildly. "You don't want to get splinched, do you?"

"It better not be like last time," she warns me. "Keep your grubby paws to myself."

I roll my eyes and hold up my well-groomed hands.

"Scout's honour."

She takes a step towards me, and she's right; the urge to loop an arm around her waist and crush her against me is almost overwhelming, especially when I remember that she was going to kiss me that day, too.

I hold out a hand to her, and the minute she accepts it

We disappear in a crack and arrive outside the Em a second later, where the other three are already waiting for us. Terrence, the door guy who took over when Jaime Quinn got promoted, smirks as we approach.

"AD," he says, rising from the stool he was sitting on to embrace Adrian. "I was wondering when you lot were going to show up. I think Greengrass is looking for you."

Adrian flashes an arrogant grin.

"Which one?"

"Take your pick," Terrence replies, and everyone laughs but Ginny and me.

I hear her growl in frustration, and I lean down to whisper, "Bet you five gals that I can get there first and convince them to both ignore him."

She smiles at that, and my heart essentially stops beating for a second. There it is: the prize I've waited years to claim. A Ginny Weasley smiles that's all for me. I am so tempted to just lean down and kiss her right then that I actually have to look away to keep myself from doing it.

"You coming, Z?"

Liam calls, and I glance down at Ginny.

"Ready?"

"No," she admits, and I laugh quietly.

"You arrived survived Pucey's flat. This should be a cake walk."

"He's right, though," she says, sounding a touch nervous. "Malfoy is not going to be happy I'm here."

"Who cares what he thinks?" I ask honestly. When it comes to Ginny, I certainly don't. "Tonight is about Leolin, not him, and she's going to be thrilled you're here."

"You're right," she says, taking a deep breath.

"Always am, darling," I say, ushering her forward.

"Hang on a second, Z," Terrance says firmly, placing a hand in front of the door to put our entrance.

"Who's your friend?"

I can tell he knows she's a Weasley, and he's .2 seconds away from announcing she can't come in.

"Actually she's Lef's friend," I reply coolly. "Her best friend."

"You know we don't admit non-Slytherins," he says, though they not strictly true; pretty girls from other houses are often allowed entry, as are a certain number of foreign travelers.

"Fine," I snap. "Then you won't mind if I tell Drake you've made Leolin unhappy on what is supposed to be the best day of her life."

He clenches his jaw, knowing his losing ground. That's right, you bastard. Checkmate.

"Lef's not even here yet," he says stupidly.

"Don't make me call Drake out here to deal with this," I snarl at him. "You will not like the end result."

"Fine," he concedes at last. "Just this once, then."

"Cheers," I snap unapologetically, already making a mental note to get him in trouble for that.

"Thanks," she says as we enter.

"W look out for our own, remember?" I remind her, and she gives me another small smile. "Now let's get fucked up, shall we?"

She nods, and my heart thumps pleasantly in my chest. It's going to be a good night.


I watch Leolin and Draco disappear into the back, trying not to imagine him stripping off her clothes. I know I need to accept this, be excited for Leolin because she's finally happy. I can't set aside all the things he's done to get them to this moment—I know that he does genuinely love her—but I also can't set aside feeling nervous, either. I don't like the idea of Leolin coming so close to Lucius Malfoy, though I suppose there's no one better suited to defend her from his cruelty than Draco.

"Weasley!" I hear, and I turn to see Parkinson striding towards me in a slinky black dress. I don't really hate her, anymore. In fact, I think I'm actually coming dangerously close to liking her. "We're doing shots! Come have one, they're wickedly good."

I glance around, errantly wondering where Zabini's got off to. I know I shouldn't care—I'd work so hard to distance myself from him after we almost kissed that one time—and it's been working. Things with Oliver have never been better, and I've started to think he might even be the one. I don't want some silly fancy for Blaise to ruin that. Besides, I don't want to give Leolin the satisfaction after she'd goaded me into admitting that I've been fending off this crush for awhile. She knows me too well.

"C'mon!" she laughs merrily, taking my hand and leading me to the bar, where many of her friends are already gathered.

I watch Pucey whisper something in Astoria Greengrass's ear as his slimy hand slides down to rest on her bum, and I sneer. Guess Blaise didn't move quick enough after all. I errantly think I should find him and demand my five galleons, but when I admit that's only because I want to talk to him some more, I follow her to a spot she's saved me at the bartop.

The bartender—who's been mixing shots as I approach—looks up at me and grins.

"And who are you?" he asks wolfishly, setting down the shaker and leaning in. "You're delicious."

"Back off, Jaime," Pansy warns. "She's got a boyfriend, and she's way out of your league."

"No one's out of my league after they've had one of my drinks," he says confidently, winking at me as he picks up the shaker and starts draining the concoction into the row of shot glasses lined up along the sleek bar.

"Why, because you put Rohypnol in them?" she bites back caustically, shooting me a reassuring smile.

"Of course not, Angelfish," he says, eying her hungrily as well. "Because they're just that damn tasty. Right, ladies and gentleman," he announces. "The game is fire and ice. Fire first, then the ice. It's a bit of a wild ride, so hang on to your knickers. You ready, Copper Top?"

I roll my eyes, taking one of the flaming red shots in my right hand and an ice blue one in my left, which is throwing of cold steam like cauldron smoke.

"Off you go, then!" he cries, and I tip the red shot down my throat. It burns, and I gag a little. I put out the fire with the blue ice, and the dichotomy of hot and cold makes me shiver.

"Whoo!" Pansy, shuddering a little as well. "Jaime, you may be a creep, but you're one hell of a mixologist."

"Thank you, darling," he says, leaning his elbows on the bar.. "Now I do believe you promised me a kiss as repayment."

She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she's drunk.

"Go on, Pans!" Liam Faulkner calls from farther down the bar. "Give him a little smooch."

She laughs before meeting him in the middle, and cheers go up as he slides his tongue into her mouth.

Oh, vomit. After a minute she pulls away, wiping her lips as he grins.

"Let's go dance!" Astoria says, eyes sparkling from the drink as she hops off Pucey's lap. I watch him stand and press hot, open-mouthed kiss to her neck as she laughs and threads her hand through his thick hair. Looks like Leolin and Draco aren't the only ones who are going to be shagging here tonight. Ugh, I need a minute. There's only so much Slytherin debauchery one can stomach.

"Come dance!" Pansy urges me, taking my hand.

"In a minute," I say. "I just need to pop into the loo."

I gentle disentangle our hands and head in that direction, though I'm not actually going there. The last thing I want right now is to walk in on Draco Malfoy pounding my best friend.

The Em is furnished with semicircular booths, and since everyone is crowded around the bar and the makeshift dance floor, I'm able to find an empty one. I order a vodka soda from a cocktail waitress and settle down, glad to be away from the madness for a second. I wonder how long I'm really obligated to stay. I know Oliver was sort of hacked off I agreed to come here, and I want to get home soon and reassure him I hadn't gotten up to anything I shouldn't have.

"Mind if I join you?"

I watch Blaise approach,and my heart does an annoying little flutter. He's wearing a dark trousers and and black fitted t-shirt with a light gray blazer on top, all of which is tailered to perfection. I don't think I've seen him wear them before, but he's got small diamond studs in his ears, and while it would look incredibly poncy on anyone else, he pulls it off with incredible style.

I nod wordlessly, and I can't decide if I relieved or disappointed when he sits across from me instead of next to me.

"So what do you think," he asks, taking a sip of what looks like a vodka on the rocks. I like that he's a vodka drinker, too. Oliver only ever really drinks beer. Damn it, no I don't. I don't even care.

"Not as bad as I'd imagined," I say noncommittally, unwilling to admit I'm actually having a pretty good time. One of thing I will say for the Slytherins, they know how to party. "Minus the bartender," I add.

He laughs, white teething glinting. Merlin's beard, why does he have to be so handsome? It's not fair.

"I'm glad you came," he says, taking another sip of his drink before setting it down on the low table between us.

"Can I be honest?" I blurt.

He gives me a warm look. Ugh, I miss the days when I didn't know him and I could hate him from a distance.

"Always," he replies.

"I still don't know how i feel about this," I admit. "I mean, I know he loves her, but part of me can't help wishing she'd fallen for someone else. Someone less—" I pause. "Complicated."

He considers this thoughtfully, taking the jab at Draco in stride. I like that about him, that he's analytical and not quick to emotion. I wish I was more like that, to be honest.

"I get that," he says. "Believe me. But you should know that Draco got Adrien's blessing. And I probably—okay definitely—shouldn't be telling you this, but he's being seeing him, as a patient."

"Malfoy's in therapy with Lai's dad?" I ask, totally in shock. I try to imagine him lying on Adrien's couch and spilling all his secrets, but I honestly can't.

"Look, I know you see him as this broken thing, and I get that, truly, but he's trying to heal, and Adrien's helping him. I don't think you understand how big that is. Before he met Lef, he never would have done something like that. I get why you don't like him or trust him, but they really do love each other, and he's trying to be better for her."

"I know that," I admit. "And it feels good to see her so happy."

He takes another sip of his drink before nodding.

"Yeah, it does," he says honestly, and, as always, I'm warmed by his genuine affection for her. "And hey, maybe now we can all be mates."

I smile at him.

"Don't hold your breath," I say teasingly.

Oh gods, I think we're flirting again.

He laughs, leaning back to kick his expensive-looking leather high tops on the table

"Okay," he promises mirthfully. "I won't."

We lapse into comfortable silence, and I realise I'm desperate to find something else to talk about. He's the most sane person here by far, and I can't deny that I do enjoy his company. Maybe we could be friends, after all.

"So," I venture finally, and he turns his attention back to me. He's really good about eye contact."How are you?"

"How am I?" he laughs, and it's a delightfully unguarded sound. "I'm—good."

"How's your Mum?"

I ask, and he smiles, though less brightly than before. I don't know why I've asked that question—I've never met the woman before in my life—but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"She's good, too."

I nod and we fall back into silence.

"Actually," he admits quietly after a second. "She's not. I think her and my stepdad August are getting divorced."

I frown, errantly thinking I should take his hand, or something. No, no physical contact, Ginny, especially when we're so secluded.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I tell him honestly.

"Look, I'm not stupid," he explains. "I know everything thinks she's a gold digger, and I don't know, maybe she is. But I think deep down, she's really just a romantic. I see how everyone snickers when she gets re-married, but she wants it to work, and it sucks to watch her when she realises that it's not going to."

I've never seen him so disarmed about something, and it makes me want to hug him even more. I think of the way he looked at me after the fight with McLaggen, and just like I did then, I think he's had to comfort his mum the way he comforted me.

I want to say more, to comfort him in return, but before I can, someone cuts in.

"Am I interrupting something?" Pucey smirks. I can see a lipstick mark on his neck, and I sincerely want to punch his bleached teeth in.

"Of course not," Blaise snaps.

"That's funny," he goads. "Because it sure seems likes I am."

"Go to Hell, Pucey," I sneer at him.

Merlin, I'm really starting to understand just why Leolin hates him so much.

"Pansy wants to do more shots," he says in response, ignoring my bard. "You two in, or did you want to stay and canoodle a bit more?"

Blaise drains his glass, ice clinking as he does.

"Shut your face before I remind Lef you're here and she gets you chucked out and banned for life just because she can," he replies coolly.

At this, Pucey frowns, probably because he knows she can and—more importantly—she totally would.

"Are you coming or what?" he demands, patience waiting.

I realise that underneath his caddish veneer is an even uglier person, and it makes me curl my lip.

"Yes already!" Blaise snaps, standing and fixing his trousers. I try not to watch him, mostly because they're fitted and they fight snugly around his legs and—other parts of his anatomy. "Keep your knickers on!"

Pucey turns on his heel and strides away without a second glance. Good riddance.

"Have you had fire and ice yet?" he asks as I stand, too.

"It's quite the drink," I reply, smoothing the back of my dress to ensure my bum's not hanging out.

"I like your dress," he says earnestly, as I fight not to blush. I fail, obviously.

"It looks really good against your hair."

A piece of it has fallen into my face, and my breath catches when he tucks it behind my ear for me.

"Thanks," I mumble stupidly.

Maybe it's the drinks, but suddenly I really want to push him back down on the booth and snog him senseless. I think of the one time I imagined Oliver was Blaise, and my cheeks flame again.

"Ready?" he asks, politely pretending not to notice my blush.

I follow him to the bar, and he places a soft hand on my back as we fight to the front, where Pansy's waiting.

"And just where have you two been?" she asks mirthfully.

"Just talking," he says flippantly. "And making fun of you lot."

"Welcome back, Copper Top!" Jaime says jovially. "And Z, always a pleasure!"

"I wish I could say the same," Blaise replies in a wry tone before smiling down at me. "Let's do this."

Jaime pours more fire and ice, pushing them towards us.

"I'll pay you a hundred Gs if the next two shots of these doesn't end in you two shagging," he says, grinning at Blaise and shooting him a wink. "You're welcome, mate."

"You're on," I snap, trying not to imagine being pressed up against the wall as he slides in and out of me. "And when I win, you can just send the money to my boyfriend Oliver Wood."

Jaime laughs. It seems like nothing can bother him, and it's maddeningly. "I remember old Ollie Wood! How's he doing these days? I really ought to floo him; haven't seen him in an age!"

"He remembers you, too," I say, despite having no basis for this. I know, at least, that Oliver would hate Jaime, so close enough. "He said for me to tell you that you're a twat."

"We're always joking like that, cheeky lad."

Blaise, who seems a bit annoyed with Jaime at our exchange, clinks his red shot to mine.

"Shall we?"

I smile at him. I have a feeling this isn't my last fire and ice of the evening. So much for getting home early.

"To the lovebirds," I say, and he gives a heart-melting grin.

"And confusion to our enemies."