16. It takes three to tango [Wednesday, December 22nd 2004]
Blaise was actually home when Draco came calling on Wednesday evening. They had not seen each other for a week, as Draco had been completely immersed in his research and Blaise had been at the work shop constantly.
Draco was surprised that Blaise had not forgotten their dinner again. Maybe his work on the Lightning Blast was coming to an end? Or maybe Potter didn't have that much time anymore? He had played a charity match on the weekend.
Also, it was almost Christmas. Draco couldn't say that he would be sad to hear that Blaise and Potter hadn't seen each other all that much lately.
Draco followed Sooky into the dining room, and there he was. Harry fucking Potter, sitting at Blaise's mahogany table and eating canapés. And again, he was in his sportswear. Skin tight and completely unfair! Draco wasn't prepared to suffer today!
"Draco!" Blaise boomed, grinning at him from his place at the head of the table. "Look who made time for us!"
"Hard to miss him," Draco said, sitting down opposite Potter. "Busy day at the 'shop?"
"We're so close! If we keep this up, we'll crack the speed problem before New Year's!" Blaise said enthusiastically while Potter mumbled something in agreement around a full mouth.
Draco's stomach did an unpleasant twist. Blaise and Potter seemed determined to keep working over the holidays, when the workshop was closed. Nobody there but the two of them, working closely together. Chasing each other on their brooms. Impaling each other – and that was just plain wrong! Where did that thought come from, all of a sudden? He definitely wasn't jealous of Blaise Zabini!
Right?!
"You'd better be careful then," Draco advised. "You know Mungo's is always full to bursting during the holidays."
Blaise laughed this off with a wave of his hand. "We'll survive."
Draco glared at him. "And no amateur healing! I'm looking at you, Blaise."
"Oh, so you heard about that?" Blaise chuckled. "I think I did a rather good job."
"You disfigured him."
Potter made a sound that Draco took as a noise of protest. He couldn't be completely sure, as Potter had already stuffed another canapé into his mouth. He seemed to only have two options when it came to food – he was either starving himself or inhaling anything that crossed his path. Given his speed, Draco wasn't even really sure if he chewed.
"Harry didn't bleed out on my workbench, so I'll call it a success."
"Very high standards you have there." Draco gave Blaise another stern look. "Just come and get me next time."
"Certainly," said Blaise, winking conspiratorially at Potter and not even trying to hide it.
Potter snorted and Draco turned to give him a look that said 'I dare you'.
Potter stopped chewing and looked back at him with big eyes, his mouth still full. He swallowed laboriously and then nodded. "I solemnly swear," he said, grinning. "Also, you'll be pleased to hear that we're planning to completely redesign the footrest next spring. And now get off our case."
Draco was not pleased to hear that their tinkering would continue into the new year.
The tray of canapés suddenly lifted off and floated away while half a dozen platters soared over from the kitchen and landed in the middle of the table.
"So, what are your plans for Christmas?" Potter asked, helping himself to some sausages.
Blaise looked at Draco, like the question wasn't directed at him too, and said in a rather reproachful tone, "He's probably working as many shifts as legally possible."
"It's not like I beg them to schedule me for every available shift," Draco lied, taking some potatoes. "But most people like to take some time off over Christmas and I'm free, so why not?"
"Because it's pathetic," Blaise said, gesturing at him with his glass. "So which shifts did you get?"
Draco cut his potatoes and then, for something to do, drowned them in a little more gravy than was strictly necessary. "I've got all the afternoon shifts."
Blaise sighed deeply, like Draco was some troublesome child. "So, you'll get home around half to midnight, eat a piece of toast and then sleep until it's time to go to work again?"
Why did that sound like an accusation? Draco was doing the entire Wizarding community a service here.
"Don't you celebrate Christmas with your parents?" Potter fork hung in the air uselessly, half a sausage in imminent danger of dropping onto Blaise's pristine table cloth. Blaise really should've known better than to have Sooky lay that out when he knew Potter was coming too.
"No," Draco said shortly, stabbing an evasive carrot.
"Why not?" Potter pressed on, looking rather confused. There was a steady drip of grease hitting the table now, but he didn't even seem to notice.
Why couldn't Gryffindors just mind their own fucking business for once? No sense of tact, either.
Draco didn't look at him. His voice cut like ice through the stuffy air. "Because we're not doing Christmas anymore, simple as that."
Potter opened his mouth to ask another stupid question, but Blaise cut him off. "Let it go, Harry. It's been like that for years."
Potter ate in pensieve silence while Blaise and Draco made small talk. Pansy had apparently just divorced her second husband and Millicent Bulstrode seemed to be rather successful with her business, which specialised in the breeding of exotic Kneazles.
"You could catch up with us on Christmas Eve," Potter said suddenly.
Instant suspicion gripped Draco. "What's on Christmas Eve?"
The answer came almost immediately. "We'll meet some friends and do a pub crawl. It's a Muggle tradition. It'll be fun."
And there it was. That sounded like work. He knew practically nothing about Muggles, but if they all were like his neighbour, Mrs. Capitelli, then they were way too nosey for him to handle.
"I've been assured that it will be positively boozy." Blaise grinned at him. "We'll send an owl around eleven to tell you where to find us."
This sounded to Draco like Blaise had already been invited. By now, Draco was almost sure that there was something going on between the two of them. They were calling each other by their first names, working together day and night, seeing each other at parties and now they were spending Christmas together? And then there was the fact that they had already shagged, of course.
He wondered if the Weasleys already knew? It was highly likely.
"I don't know. I'll probably be exhausted by then," Draco said casually, concentrating on his plate again. "But you have fun."
They tried to change his mind all through dessert and the following game of three-way wizard's chess (which Potter was absolute rubbish at), but Draco didn't budge.
He didn't need to put up with that on Christmas.
