Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Just doing this for fun.
A/N: Wow! I didn't expect that much reaction to lil' ol Lucius getting his butt kicked. :) Big thanks to Dadn14, Moonlit-Midnights, Slytherin Princess 1313, dutch potterfan, Guest-without-initials, LB, articcat621, BellaDrobny, Kimm Possible, IvoryDarkWolf, GirForPrez, dragonsgirl21, ainokea2810, meahela87, GottaGetBackUp, and The Raven's Sight for taking the time to review! Your thoughtful points and kind words made my week, and it was also reassuring to hear that I'm not the only one who gets hooked into stories and reads instead of sleeping on occasion. ;) Sorry I don't have the chance right now to address each & every comment, but I'm trying to fit in cranking out another chapter for Playmate.
Thank you also to those who are following/favoriting and otherwise sticking with my story. If you're American, Happy Thanksgiving. If not, Happy Thursday(ish)!
After they left Azkaban, Harry, Ron and Draco met at a local pub called Dirk's. It was owned and operated by Dirk Winfield, a Senior Auror who had retired 15 years ago. As with many Muggle cop bars, the clientele fell into one of two categories: agents or groupies. Dirk's was one of the few locales where the hangers-on left Harry alone. It hadn't been that way when he started frequenting the pub, but Winfield had sorted things out quickly. As the owner was well over 6'5", built like an American defensive lineman, and known for fast wand work and equally quick fists, people tended to listen when he spoke. While he was still in fantastic shape, his age showed in the laugh lines at his eyes, and the silver shooting through his close-cropped auburn hair and beard.
The owner was behind the bar when the trio arrived, and he led them to a private booth at the back. Draco lagged slightly behind Ron and Harry as he took in the surroundings for the first time. The bar was a dingy little hole-in-the-wall where the odors of smoke, grease and ale cohabitated almost peacefully. Autographed magical pictures of law enforcement legends hung everywhere there was space. The patrons were a tough crowd, and Malfoy found himself hurrying to catch up with Potter and Weasley as he felt multiple sets of eyes assess and then recognize him.
The blond slid into the empty side of the booth and Harry handed him a menu. "Dunno if you're hungry, Malfoy, but Dirk's has some of the best pub food you'll ever eat."
Not wanting to offend the behemoth standing next to the table, Draco quickly ordered a pint of Guinness and a shepherd's pie. Weasley and Potter went with different brands of lagers, and two orders of fish and chips. Dirk ambled away, leaving the men to rehash the Azkaban visit.
"Potter, I thought of something as soon as we left. I, er, mentioned something that was supposed to be kept in confidence while we were in the cell..." Draco bit his lip as he thought of how to express his concern.
Harry understood immediately. "The Aurors in that cell made an Unbreakable Vow regarding confidentiality. They're capable of speaking only to Kingsley or me about anything they hear during interviews." Malfoy sat back, relieved. Granger would have killed or castrated him if his slip had been made public, and he was almost equally fond of his life and his bollocks.
Ron waved a freckled hand impatiently. "Yeah, yeah. Confidentiality- that's all well and good. Tell me, though - how did it go? I was dying of curiosity out there!"
Harry shot him a lopsided grin. "It. Was. Beautiful. Imagine everything you could ever see hurting Lucius Malfoy, then multiply it times 10. Draco was wicked." He hoisted his mug toward the ex-Slytherin in salute.
"Well, that shouldn't be surprising, Potter. I had years of practice being a cruel bastard. You of all people know that."
"True, I don't think any of us will forget anytime soon, but it was refreshing to see it aimed at someone else for a change!" Harry and Ron shared a snicker, and Malfoy shrugged good-naturedly. Potter's face took on a more serious cast, and he turned to his best friend.
"Ron, Draco had some news that he chose to share in there. I think you should be made aware of it."
The redhead winced. "Am I going to need more alcohol for this?"
"Probably, Weasley," Draco took a sip of his stout. "Granger proposed to me recently."
Blue eyes opened wide. "Wait- she proposed to you? What was all that with you coming to the Burrow to get permission?"
"I was trying to go about things the right way, at Potter's suggestion. Once Hermione finally decided to start speaking to me again after that fiasco, we agreed it was too early. However, after we returned to the apartment from the training course, she did it spur of the moment." An evil little smirk graced Malfoy's features. "In fact, do me a favor - when she tells you two about it, make a point of asking for details."
"Are we going to need alcohol after we hear that?" Harry was almost certain of the answer.
"Most definitely, and I'll be happy to buy it for you, just to see the look on her face."
Ron grinned and shook his head as their dinner arrived. "You're lucky you're rich, then. Cause if it's anything like I'm imagining, you'll be buying me my own brewery, Malfoy."
With that, they dug into their meals, and Draco was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the food. The pie's crust was flaky and fresh ingredients had been used. While it was far from the cuisine prepared by his house elves, he had to admit it was still pretty damned good. The fish and chips smelled divine, and he decided to request that the next time he visited.
Ron unfortunately kept his habit of speaking with a full mouth. "Wha elf hppd?"
"Potter, translate."
"He says, 'what else happened?'"
Draco leaned back in his seat, and rubbed his belly. "Oh, not much...I just agreed to make the Kiss open to public viewing, told him that he lost the war for Voldemort after he put me in a situation where I got close to Granger, and there was something in there about donating his body to St. Mungo's for research. Potter had a few things to tell him as well. I think that about covers it."
"Pretty much," Harry grinned. "By the way, about the Best Man thing - if you were just getting his goat, I understand."
"BEFT MAN?" Bits of fish and chips sprayed the table.
They both ignored the ginger. "I was perfectly serious, Potter. If it hadn't been for you, none of this would be happening. And we've gotten to where we tolerate each other fairly well, wouldn't you say?" Malfoy's grey eyes sparkled as he teased his friend.
"Well, yeah. Now that we're not bent on mutual destruction, I guess you have a point." Potter sprinkled some more vinegar on his chips, and popped one into his mouth thoughtfully.
Draco cocked his head and regarded the men across from him. "You know, Malfoy weddings are fairly large affairs."
"And?"
"I'll need several groomsmen. Tradition dictates at least five. Weasley?"
"Erm, yes?"
"If my soon-to-be-better-half doesn't kill me for suggesting it, would you feel like putting on a tux?"
Ron goggled at him in disbelief. "Why would you ask me that, Malfoy? We've never been close."
"True enough, but you did matter to Hermione at one time, and she matters to me. If it would make her happy, that's good enough reason."
"Who are you, and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?"
The blond replied loftily, "One thing, Weasley - at the reception you either demonstrate table manners, or I swear I'll erect a shield charm around you to protect the other guests."
"Ah, there you are," Ron said dryly.
The blond checked his watch. "Seriously - think about it. I'll be in touch. Right now, I've got a temperamental witch to get home to." He set a few Galleons on the table and left.
Still in shock, Ron turned to his best friend. "I never thought I'd see the day we would sit down to dinner with Lord Wanker himself, and he'd ask me to be part of his wedding!"
"Is that a no, Ron?"
"Are you kidding? If it would get my friendship back with Hermione, I'd wear a bridesmaid's dress."
"I'll be sure to tell Malfoy." The brunette stood quickly and melted into the shadows.
"Don't you dare, Harry. Harry?" Ron looked about wildly. "HARRY!"