June 2010 – Present day
Draco could only stare as the blonde in front of him continued to drivel on about herself.
Yes, she was pleasing to the eye but by God, was she full of herself. Not once has she stopped for breath long enough to ask Draco about himself or what he did or what his interests were.
No, she was too busy telling him what her favourite brand of makeup was or that she was aspiring to be a Witch Weekly model.
Theodore Nott was going down in history as the shittest matchmaker ever. Bar none.
Over the years, Draco had been on so many disastrous dates that had been put together by Nott that he now just went along for it purely for his own amusement. Theodore seemed to think that he knew Draco well, and physically he was usually spot on with Draco's type.
But when it came to the mentality side of things…
He was so far off the mark it was laughable.
Granted, when he was eighteen or nineteen, he would have eagerly gone with the girls that
Theo had suggested. But now? Now, he just needed…more. He needed something to grab onto more than a pair of thighs. He needed good conversation and someone who could delve deeper than past the pages of The Prophet and his past and his wealth.
He needed someone who could challenge him.
And this girl was not it.
It took another hour before he eventually managed to get himself away, cutting the night short and bidding the girl goodnight. And from there, it was off to his local pub where he knew his friends would be waiting patiently to hear the outcome of his date.
Andshewould be there too, of course.
As he walked through the familiar wooden door of the pub, he saw them all in their usual corner, waving over at him to join them.
Shegave him a small smile before continuing to sip on her glass of wine, seemingly in deep conversation with Parkinson.
"Well?" Theo looked so hopeful, the poor bastard.
"Not a chance, mate." Draco told him with a small laugh as he took a seat, a beer appearing in front of him as he took off his coat. "No offence, but I am never going on another date set up by you ever again."
"Was she that bad?" He looked almost crestfallen. "I thought I did alright with that one…"
"You can't even pick a bird out for yourself, never mind anyone else." Harry told him with a grin. "No offence."
Theo gave him a small glare. "Rude, Potter." And took a large gulp of his drink.
"Regardless," Draco cut in, feeling all eyes on him as he loosened the tie around his neck. "I'll be going into my thirties single, drunk and fucking miserable and I intend on thoroughly embracing it."
He missed the small yet terrified and quizzical looks that passed between two of his best friends.
"Well, that killed the mood." Ron chimed in from his place next to Luna. "Anyone want shots?"
"Me!"
Her cheery tone piped up, making Draco glance over at her for a second.
Cheeks flushed from the alcohol she must have already consumed. Her eyes were always brighter when she drank alcohol and her hair always got bigger because she liked to run her hands through it subconsciously. Not that he had ever noticed, or anything.
"I think I need one after the evening I've had." Draco said in a low tone as he sank back his beer. He saw her glance over at him for a moment before her attention went back to Pansy.
"You have two days left until you're thirty, Draco." Luna announced with a smile. "What do you plan on doing with your life?"
Wow, another loaded question from Luna Lovegood.
God, the woman was marvellous, if not clinically insane.
"Not going on anymore fucking awful dates withstanding?" He said with a small smile around his glass, seeing Theodore giving him a withering look. "I don't know… might just fuck off to Australia and not come back."
Always in the back of his mind.
"Excellent idea-" Theo exclaimed, sloshing his drink over excitedly.
Draco raised an eyebrow at him.
"-is what I would say if that was not a fuckingawfulidea." He gulped his drink gingerly. "But,you do you, my friend." And gave him a hard pat on the back. "I hear Australia is nice this time of year."
Draco shook his head. "So, does everyone want rid of me like this complete tosser appears to, then?"
The chorus of sarcastic 'No's'and 'of course nots'were resounding, but Draco only caught her biting her lip when she gave her answer, and he couldn't quite think of anything else after that.
But that was not something that he dwelled on.
He never thought about it, not in all the years that he had been in her presence. Never. Never allowed himself to. And it had been that way for the last eight or so years – even when she was datingwhats-his-face.
And he could never put his finger on it either.
He would never be able to give an exact explanation for when his thought process changed slightly from 'She's Granger', to 'Fuck…she's Granger.'
He supposed it had been a slow and gradual process; a build-up of mixed feelings over the years that had suddenly left him completed flummoxed. But now whenever he looked over at her – whenever he dared to – he found himself thinking all kinds of things that he definitely should not have.
Because he didn't. ever.
Would never dream of it.
He used to put it down to being male. He used to put it down to her being female and that they had become aqaintances over the last eight or so years. And maybe this was the reason that he had come to think of her more often over the last six or so, in lots of different ways.
But after the now insane amount of time he had spent secretly wondering what her breasts look like beneath her robes, he knew better. Maybe there was something a little more there for him.
Not that he was ever going to admit that to himself.
And nor that he would tell anyone. He would never need to tell anyone because it was nothing. It was just curiosity. He just thought she was decent enough looking with a wicked sense of humour, that was all. It meant nothing.
He would fucking die before he told anyone that little secret, least of all her.
There was also one other little small problem.
She was still insufferable and at times, highly fucking annoying.
That part of her had never changed, at least. He admired her, but the need to shut her mouth up at times often left him feeling agitated... especially when he considered HOW he would like to shut her up.
Some things never changed, he supposed.
Whoever Granger eventually married would have to have the patience of a saint.
"When are you going to see your Mum and Dad, Draco?" Potter asked him as a tray of shots was set upon the table. "Old Lucius was asking me if I'd seen you the other day." He sounded more inquisitive than usual.
Oh, fucking brilliant.
"Friday." Draco told him with a shrug. "I've already let my Mother know I'll be over on my Birthday."
"We know," Ginny told him with a coy smile. "We're all invited."
Draco's drink spluttered slightly out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, what's this?"
"We've all been invited around for dinner," Granger's quiet voice came from the other end of the table. "Your Father dropped the invitations off at my desk yesterday morning."
Oh, for fucks sake…
His Father speaking to Hermione Granger is no good in any capacity. And not because he would spew venom at her, oh no. But because the man absolutely loved her. Loved her to the point of dropping some verynot-so-subtlehints about the fact that he would very much like Draco to have lots of sex and babies with her at every given opportunity. It made his stomach churn at the thought of having to keep her away from his insaneprattling's-onall night.
"Well, isn't that just fucking fantastic." He felt even worse about turning thirty now, knowing his childhood home was about to be invaded by people that he had come to view as his 'other' family.
Draco scarcely mixed the two, not since Weasley humorously told him he had a thing for his Mother and then followed her around the Manor's many drawing rooms all night.
"Everyone's all coupled up for my birthday withmyfamily and here I am, a single pringle." He droned into his beer and sank the shot that he was offered by Potter.
"This is not a pity party, I'm afraid." Blaise told him pointedly before giving Luna a small but tender kiss on the cheek.
"What about me?" Theo asked quizzically. "I'm a pringle too."
"No, you're just a prick, there's a difference." Weasley chimed in as he held Pansy around the waist firmly as they stood up from the table and she started getting her coat.
"Bastard…" Draco heard Theodore utter under his breath. "Always gets me…"
"He's not wrong, though." Draco smirked at him, earning him a glare.
"Right, we're off." Weasley then announced suddenly as Pansy waved and blew kisses to everyone. "We'll see you on Friday, ferret-face."
"Lovely." Draco answered, giving his friend a look.
One by one, everyone else then decided it was time to head home. The table started to empty until it was just himself, Granger… and Theodore.
Theodore, who wasalwaysaround whenever him and Granger seemed toalmostbe alone.
Not that he could say anything, because why should he ever need to be alone with Granger? Why should he ever have to be alone with Granger? Yes, if he kept up that mentality then he would be okay.
And he did not watch her as she drank the rest of her wine from her glass and stood up slowly. He did not notice the way she fixed her figure-hugging pencil skirt and straightened her white shirt. And he absolutely did not steal a glance as she leaned down slightly to pick up her bag, causing her shirt to separate slightly and her cleavage to peek out from over the top.
Mary, mother of Godhe wished he had not looked at her long enough to see that little display.
"Let's get Hermione home safely then, eh?" Theodore announced with an overly happy clap of his hands as they all got their coats on. "As goodfriendsshould."
Why did that last sentence sound awfully pointed? Especially the word 'friends'.
Because Draco did not need reminding that they were friends. He had thought about that fact a hell of a fucking lot over the last few years, especially. Thought about the fact that he would never cross that line with her, ever. She would never allow him to cross that line, not in a million years.
He wouldn't even knowhowto attempt to jump it if he was honest.
Not that he wanted to.
No.
Never.
Granger wafted past him, her shoulder brushing slightly against his chest andfuck, she smelled good. She always smelled good. Always smelled slightly tropical, like mangoes and coconuts. He could always tell when she was around, it was like a sixth sense to him now.
"I'm a big girl Theodore." She told the dark-haired man with a pointed look. "I can walk myself without needing to be chaperoned".
And then she was walking out of the door with her head held high, and both men could do nothing except follow in her shadow.
Theodore bounded through the kitchen grate of Number 7, Fig Lane cottage at precisely 12.14am.
He dusted the soot from his shoulders and looked around the dark room, eyes squinting to familiarise himself with his surroundings.
"Blaise?" His voice was just above a whisper. But nothing.
"Zabini?" A little louder.
Still nothing.
He edged his way to the bottom of the stairs.
"Blaise, you big, beautiful bastard, get down here!" Louder still.
And then there was a pop and said beautiful bastard was standing in front of him, eyes ablaze with annoyance.
"Are you taking the piss?" The other man dragged Theo into the kitchen and shut the door behind him. "You and your motor-mouth will get us both shot!"
"Well, it's not the first time I've exercised our friendship boundaries by taking up your couch in an intoxicated state- just give that excuse."
That much was true. Theo's second home was Blaise's comfy chair when he had had one too many and couldn't remember his own address.
He always seemed to remember Blaise's, though.
"Luna will hear you, you daft bastard." Blaise persisted in a quiet but sharp voice. "What do you want now?"
Theo took a dramatic gulp of air. "We only have two days, Blaise."
Blaise blew out air and stood with his hands on his hips, looking at the ceiling. "How many bloody times have I told you, Theo." The man told his friend with a shake of his head. "We were young and we probably didn't even do the bloody potion right in the first place. There's not a chance-"
"But, it's just too bloody coincidental that-"
"We're all friends Theo, there's nothing coincidental about it." Blaise cut in. "We all ended up working together and this in turn brought about the fact that we all moved in the same social circles and therefore became friends, it's not bloody rocket science."
He shook his head in frustration. "You're a bloody lunatic if you think things are going to change once Draco turns thirty."
"But-" Theo hammered on, hands in his hair, looking rather frantic. "-Don't you see the way he looks at her-"
"She's an attractive woman, mate." Blaise rolled his eyes.
"-and the way she looks at him sometimes-"
"Well, he's not exactly a fucking ogre, is he?"
Theo drew a breath. "Mate I am telling you, we are in serious shit with this whole thing. If they find out what we did –"
"Which they won't, because neither of us is telling themand–"
Blaise poked Theo in the ribs. "-there is nothing to bloody tell because there's not a chance that a stupid little potion that two nineteen year olds made for a bit of a laugh actually worked!"
Theo wanted to bite back that he had always had a talent for potion making, but instead he threw his hands into the air and walked through the door of the kitchen and into the living room of Blaise and Luna's cottage.
"Where are you going now?" Blaise asked in exasperation.
"Your couch." Theo told him as he promptly threw himself down onto the leather. "Forgot to leave my grate open." And shut his eyes tight.
He heard Blaise sigh.
"un-fucking-believable…"
And then the living room door closed behind him.
And as Theo fell into a dead sleep, he just hoped to fucking God that he had been overreacting to every little insignificant detail for the past eleven years…