See disclaimer in Chapter 1. They belong to JKR, even though she insists they're straight.
Harry squinted as he looked at the table in front of him, tilting his head as Hermione marked the chart with her wand. Her Aunt Betty would be uncomfortable sitting with the witches and wizards in attendance, she decided, tapping the parchment again. Her aunt's name appeared, joining the names of several other relatives at a table near the back of the room.
Hermione frowned, studying the seating arrangements, looking at the dwindling list of names in her hand. She bit her lip, her tone hesitant as she spoke.
"I only have a few left," she said, and Harry wondered if he was imagining the apprehension in her eyes. "Friends, mostly. My family was easy, and Molly and Arthur already asked me to fill out their table with Kingsley and a few other Ministry employees."
Harry nodded, unsure of what could have her so distressed. The wedding planning had been going smoothly so far, the entire thing so militantly organized that Harry was positive nothing would dare go wrong and risk Hermione's wrath.
"I wanted to have you at a table with us, but it was all couples, and –"
"No worries, Hermione," he said, grinning. He could set her mind at ease if that was what she was worrying about. "I don't mind sitting with the left-overs."
"Oh, Harry," she groaned, looking even more distressed at his joke. "It's really not like that, it's just –"
"I was kidding, Hermione," he said, his lips twitching in amusement. Why was she so worked up over where he sat at the reception?
"We've had a few last-minute additions. A couple more classmates that hadn't thought they could make it, and then Gin asked me to add two people as well," she said carefully, cringing as she looked at the newest name on the guest list.
They were on mostly friendly terms, sure, but she'd not planned to invite either man. But they were both good friends with Theo and Ginny, and Daph and Neville as well. And she knew Theo was working with them to develop his new club, and it seemed like too simple a request to deny. At least, it had until this moment, when she was forced to figure out where to seat them.
"I'm putting them with you because I know I can trust you," she continued, and Harry's stomach dropped. He had a good idea of what was coming next. "I know you'll do your best to make them feel comfortable, which shouldn't be too hard, since they're friendly with most of the other guests."
Harry nodded, happy he hadn't told her about last night's run-in at the Diagon Alley meeting. There were only a few people who fit the description Hermione was giving him, and he'd just seen one of them.
"So you'll be over here," she said, tapping her wand to a table near the side of the room. She knew Harry hated sitting with his back exposed, so placing him near the wall made sense. She'd seen Draco at enough events over the years to know it was his preference, as well.
"With Malfoy," Harry added, quirking a brow when her eyes widened in surprise.
"And Blaise," she said meekly, cringing as she waited for an explosion.
"Alright," he said equably, laughing when she gaped at him in surprise. "We're all adults now, Hermione. We're hardly going to hex each other on sight."
Draco insisted on cooking, since he had essentially invited himself over for the evening. Ginny hadn't given more than a token protest, since she knew he was a fabulous cook, and it was a chore she hated. She watched as Theo played on the rug with Caleum, who was babbling excitedly about Freddie.
"He's fabulous," she said, sneaking a piece of fennel from Draco's cutting board. He made quite the elegant figure, standing in her kitchen chopping vegetables.
"He's been talking about it all day, ever since I told him where we were going tonight," Draco said, tossing her another slice of the anise-flavored bulb.
"He seems to know a lot about babies," she added, looking over his shoulder to watch as Caleum carefully pressed a kiss to the sleeping girl's forehead.
"He's been practicing on the house elves," Draco said with a laugh, sliding a pan of roasted shallots and mushrooms out of the oven and resting it on the counter. He turned, stirring the garlic cream sauce bubbling away on the range. "He's determined to be the best cousin he can be."
"Cousin?" Ginny asked, earning herself a slap on the wrist when she snaked out a hand to grab a hot mushroom.
"Nev and Daph," Draco explained, carefully transferring crispy pancetta pieces to a towel to drain. He threw chunks of chicken into the pan, letting them sizzle in the rendered fat.
"Ah, yes," she said, settling onto a bar stool near the counter and snagging a piece of spinach from the salad Draco was preparing. "I suppose they will be cousins, won't they? Growing up together, at least."
Draco nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat at the thought of more years without his son. He just wasn't prepared to bring Cal out into the open, though, and it was too difficult for him to live in France. He had responsibilities here in England – to the Malfoy name, to the companies he owned, to the people who worked for him, even to Cal, who would reap the benefits of Draco's careful management of the family name and money when he came of age.
"Drain the pasta," he said, hoping she hadn't heard the hoarseness in his voice. It didn't do to dwell on things he couldn't change, like his social standing and the effect it would have on Cal once it was revealed the boy was a Malfoy. He wasn't foolish enough to believe it would never happen; he just wanted to do as much good with the name as he could before it did. "We're about ready."
They worked together in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, putting the finishing touches on the meal. He mixed everything together with the pasta and drizzled the sauce over top, rolling his eyes when Ginny gave an exaggerated sniff of delight and pretended to swoon over the finished product.
"Everything all set for tomorrow night?" Charlie asked, tipping his glass toward Harry as he spoke. All of the Weasleys were back in town for the wedding, most eagerly anticipating Ron's stag party.
"Yes," Harry said, wrinkling his nose in mock distaste. "Theo's set up some sort of bar crawl that ends at the strip club in Knockturn Alley."
Charlie grinned, laughing when Bill shot them both a wary glance.
"I'm not sure –"
"It will be fine, Billywig," Charlie teased, laughing as his brother stiffened at the use of his hated childhood nickname. "You know Theo's going to want to get home early because of Freddie, and Hermione would kill Harry here if anything too untoward happened. You'll be back in the arms of your loving wife before you know it."
Bill grimaced, already plotting how he could sneak out early – before the naked women. Fleur's Veela blood would boil if she knew he'd been to a strip club, which wouldn't be easy to hide from her enhanced senses.
"I'll keep you safe," Harry announced, slamming down the rest of his beer and putting the empty glass on the table. "Protect your virtue and whatnot. No worries, Billywig."
"Ugh," Bill groaned, grabbing his robes, which were draped over the back of the chair. He threw a few Galleons on the table to cover their meal and drinks, trudging dutifully after Harry and his brother as they made their way to George's store for party favors.
Theo cleared away the dishes, refusing Draco's assistance on the grounds that he'd cooked, so someone else should clean. He took the opportunity to question Gin, who had just returned from tucking Freddie into her cot. Cal was sprawled on the floor, coloring a picture of a very misshapen hippogriff.
She eyed him appraisingly, amused that Draco seemed tongue-tied about something. They'd talked about the club over dinner, so it likely wasn't that. Besides, that was Theo's area, not hers.
"Spit it out," she said, grinning when he flinched at her directness.
"That obvious?" he asked, his cheeks coloring slightly at his transparency. Must be losing my touch, he thought wryly, crouching beside Cal on the floor to gather up some of the scattered crayons. He grinned as he thought about what his father would say if he could see his grandson coloring with the Muggle implements.
"To me, at least," she said, sitting on the sofa with her legs curled comfortably beneath her. It was a cool night – especially for early July – and she wrapped one of Freddie's blankets around her bare arms.
"I need some advice," he admitted, watching her carefully. "I met up with someone yesterday – someone from our past – and, I don't know, something happened."
He waited for condemnation or laughter, and receiving neither, pressed on.
"It's ridiculous, because we were never close, and there's no way it would ever be anything more than physical attraction. I hadn't even talked to him in years. I mean, we've seen each other at parties and ceremonies, sure, but we never talked. But we shook hands last night, and I swear, there was this spark –"
He broke off, shrugging. He was trying to explain his surprising attraction to Harry Potter to Ginny Weasley. The irony wasn't lost on him, but she was the only other person he knew who might understand. She picked up on the hesitation immediately, her jaw dropping when she realized who he must be talking about.
"He went because George couldn't," she said, shocked when Draco nodded lamely.
"Oh," she said, unable to figure out what else she should say. Was Draco really here seeking advice about pursing Harry?
"I just wanted to know, when you two were … you know, did you ever feel this, I don't know, pulse of energy when you touched?"
She shook her head dumbly, still unable to process what she was hearing. Any other time, she'd consider helping, but she knew Harry was seeing someone. Sort of.
Draco blew out an unsteady breath, which turned into a laugh as he shook his head.
"It was probably nothing. Scratch that, I know it's nothing. We hate each other. That's not going to change, no matter how civil we act in public. He's still Harry Potter, and I'm still Draco Malfoy," he said, his tone bitter, remembering the recriminating look the green-eyed wizard had given him yesterday at the mention of the Divitiae Society.
She nodded absently, wondering how she'd never picked up on the attraction between the men before. It was so obvious now – all those years of fighting, that intense hatred between them. It was no wonder Draco had felt sparks fly when they touched.
Draco smiled, the niggling guilt he'd felt since last night leaving him. He might be attracted to Potter, but he wouldn't act on it. Ginny's reaction had been enough to convince him it was absolute folly to even consider it. And why should he, when things were going so well with Gryffin? His attraction to Potter had felt almost like cheating when he thought about it last night, but sitting here with Ginny, he realized it had just been a momentary spark, something that likely wouldn't even happen again. After all, how many more times would he and Potter ever shake hands?
"It was just a random thought," he said, his confidence returning. "But he has turned out well, hasn't he?"
He grinned when Ginny laughed, nodding. She bit her lip, unsure of how much she should divulge to Draco. She didn't want him pining after Harry if her friend was unavailable, after all.
"Harry's –"
"None of my concern," Draco said quickly, holding up his hands to stop her. "It's moot, anyway. I've met someone. It's still in the early stages, but I think it could really work out."
She smiled, surprised at how happy she felt for Draco – and how that happiness was tempered with disappointment, since under different circumstances, she really did think Harry and Draco might be good for each other.
"That's wonderful. Are you bringing him to the wedding? Do we get to meet him?"
His smile dimmed slightly, and Ginny wondered what she'd said wrong. Was Draco having second thoughts about going to Ron and Hermione's wedding? Had he decided it would be too awkward?
"Er, no," he said, smiling sheepishly. "We found each other on Pansy's dating site. I haven't actually met him yet."
She smiled weakly, a sick feeling blossoming in her stomach. She grasped for a subject change, babbling about the problems Hermione was having finding the types of flowers she wanted, which were apparently out of season in Great Britain this time of year, and the snit Molly was in because they'd insisted on having the reception catered instead of letting her take care of it.
They chatted on about wedding plans for awhile, and Draco gave Theo a few suggestions for Ron's stag party when the wizard rejoined them after clearing up in the kitchen. Draco and Cal didn't stay much longer, since he needed to get the young boy home and to bed.
She waited until the green flames had died down before throwing in another pinch of Floo powder, praying Neville was at his cottage and not at the chateau.
"Longbottom cottage."
"Bon soir, Gin," Neville greeted her, smiling and nodding as she asked if she could step through for a moment.
"Is everything alright? Freddie's latest tests come back OK?"
She nodded, walking straight to his liquor cabinet and pouring them both a shot of Firewhisky.
"So Draco was over for dinner. It seems he's met someone. Online." Her gaze was steady as she studied Neville. She saw him stiffen, confirming her suspicions. "Nev, what the fuck is going on?"
TBC
Author's note: We're about there…the moment of recognition. Are you just dying for the wedding? *grins*
I wanted to dash off a quick thank you for everyone who is reading, and especially those who are reviewing. The response to Must Love Quidditch has knocked my socks off! *blows kisses*
Bru
