Draco received a pleasant surprise mid-week when an owl from Theo arrived asking if he wanted to meet for drinks on Friday. Hermione seemed pleased and promptly scheduled a girls' night in with Ginny, going on about how even though they were a couple now, it wouldn't do to ignore the separate friendships in their lives. Draco rolled his eyes, but bit his tongue. He knew he wasn't entitled to all of Hermione's time, especially when they already saw each other every week day morning and usually spent Friday and Saturday evenings together, but Draco failed to see an issue with wanting to spend every second in her company.

Sweet Salazar, he was well and truly besotted. Just induct him into Hufflepuff already.

I am okay with this.

The new routine of Draco's life had him feeling a way he hadn't dare feel since his early teenage years: content. Draco met Hermione outside her home each morning before work, rain or shine, and accompanied her to their café. They would settle in with their beverages of choice (him with a black coffee, her a masala chai) and discuss everything from their previous work day, upcoming projects, something that had caught Hermione's ire in the Daily Prophet, the most recent endearing/exasperating thing Potter or Weasley had said to her, etc. Then they'd stroll to work together and Draco would place a lingering kiss on her cheek that never failed to make Hermione blush.

Weekend evenings swapped back and forth between their respective homes, depending on the quidditch schedule for Draco. Hermione introduced him to all sorts of marvelous Muggle cuisine, Draco becoming addicted to the anonymity afforded to him in non-magical London. Draco also spent many an evening watching Hermione aglow with happiness in his library as she discovered tome after tome. He'd yet to realize his fantasy of sex against the shelves, but could hardly complain given how willing Hermione was to either lead or be led to the bedroom. Sundays meant a lie-in, breakfast (either preceding or following a climactic romp between the sheets) and then Hermione would head over to the Burrow for her weekly Weasley nonsense while Draco either returned home to shore up financial matters or do a spot of flying.

Damn it all, Draco was content and tonight he was going to divulge all of this to Theo.

When Draco entered the crowded Hag in the Hearth on Friday evening, it didn't take long for him to spot the tall and gangly form of his friend seated at the bar.

"I see you've started without me," Draco drawled as he pulled up to the stool next to his friend. Theo shrugged and took a long pull from his drink.

"What'll it be tonight? On me, of course, I could probably buy everyone in here rounds for the rest of their lives and not scratch the surface of my inheritance."

Draco eyed his friend warily. The last time he'd seen Theo had been at his mother's New Year's gala, but his friend could not look more different. Gone was the easygoing demeanor and healthy glow to his face; the glow of a person who had something going right in life. The Theo next to him looked defeated and morose, a bleary pain reflected in his gaze.

"Same as you, I guess."

Theo signaled to the bartender for another lager. When Draco had a drink in front of him, Theo raised his glass in a mock toast.

"Let us raise a glass to the house of Nott, a most sacred and pure lineage. Thanks for the gold, you fucking tossers, and for damning me to a miserable fate."

Draco lowered his drink in alarm at the scathing bitterness imbued into the words, but Theo emptied his glass in one go and ordered another. Draco quickly cast a Sound-Interfering Charm around them.

"Theo, mate, seriously, you're scaring me. Tell me what's happened."

Draco watched his friend take a deep breath, shake his head, then take another long swig of his new and full lager.

"Is it your mother? Is she unwell?" Theo shook his head.

"Work? Someone bothering you at the Ministry?" Theo shook his head again, eyes front.

"Are you ill or something? In some kind of trouble?" At this Theo hung his head and Draco's stomach dropped.

"I love her," Theo finally choked out and Draco's brows knit in confusion.

"Who are you—?"

"I love her," Theo repeated as if Draco hadn't spoken. "I don't want to live another fucking day without her. She wants to move in together and I want that too, but this is never going to work… fuck, I want to marry her and spend the rest of my sorry life with her if she'll have me..."

Draco's jaw dropped as his friend kept ranting. He signaled to the bartender for two firewhiskys, post haste.

"She is the best thing that ever happened to me and Merlin knows what I did to deserve this," Theo continued and Draco's brain screamed Oh, me too, mate, you've no idea, but now that the flood gates had opened, he figured it best to let Theo get everything out.

Theo suddenly looked panicked and shook his head. "I love her but she doesn't know, she has no idea and how the hell do I fix this?"

"Wait, I'm confused. I thought you said this woman wants to move in with you? She doesn't know you love her?"

Theo still wouldn't look him in the eye, just stared down into his lager dejectedly. "You wouldn't understand. You'll never understand."

"How about you fucking try me instead of assuming, yeah?" Draco burst out angrily. After all the shitty family drama they'd had to endure in their young lives, did Theo really think Draco couldn't handle whatever romantic nonsense he was all broken up over?

Theo shook his head and released a pained sigh. "I love her—"

"Yeah, I got that bit."

"I love her and she doesn't know that I'm… that I'm a…" Theo drained his glass again. "She doesn't know I'm a wizard."

Draco's mind tried to work furiously through what Theo had just said because it did not make any sense.

"How?" Was all Draco managed.

"Because I haven't told her what I am. Because I don't even know how to approach this. Because… she's a Muggle."

The bartender arrived then with a bottle of Ogden's and two glasses. "Leave the bottle," Draco ordered and the man shrugged and walked off. Draco filled the two glasses to the brim and pushed one towards Theo.

"How did this happen?" He asked in a hushed voice.

Theo tossed back the whisky. "About a year and a half ago I found myself in a Muggle pub…"

The double life of Theodore Nott

Muggle London was bustling at this hour, but this version of London seemed bustling at every hour. It was frenetic, chaotic, and there were throngs of people everywhere, constantly. Theo sat on his usual bench across the way from a strip of popular pubs, eateries, and shops, summoning the courage he possessed. He'd been coming to this exact spot every day for the last week, observing his surroundings. This field trip was the culmination of several weeks of studying and meticulous planning, of noting normal Muggle habits and behaviors.

He could do this. His healer assured him he could do this. Theo needed to do this. All the burning curiosity he'd been made to keep inside his entire life had finally eked out. The books he'd found in the Ministry library from the Muggle Liaison Department had prepared him to dress and act the part, because Theo was nothing if not careful. He'd prepped on current technologies in use, and while the first sight of motor traffic alarmed him, he'd read enough to know what to expect. They weren't so different from the Ministry cars after all, but everything was so much louder and brighter out here. It had taken Theo this entire week for his senses to become accustomed to the busy atmosphere around him. Merlin, there were so many people, hustling to and fro, unbothered and unaware that a world of magic was concealed all around them.

He finally unfurled his lanky frame from the bench and walked through the doors of the pub he'd selected as his target for this mission. He, pureblood wizard Theodore Nott, son of a prominent Death Eater, was going to have a drink in a Muggle pub and it was all going to be fine.

On one of his reconnaissance visits earlier in the week, Theo had picked this particular pub based on the age of the patrons coming and going. The early evening crowd comprised young people around his age, usually in groups or couples, and it didn't seem as rowdy as a few of the other establishments. One he wanted to avoid forever had an entire wall of glaring, overly bright boxes of light, which Theo later discovered were called televisions. Much too erratic for Theo, he wouldn't know where to look.

He took a seat on a stool at the bar of his chosen pub, and ordered a pint of Guinness. The brochure of travel tips he found in the Ministry Library titled "How to Holiday in the Muggle World While Not Violating the Statute of Secrecy," said this particular beverage tasted similar to a stout Theo often ordered at the Hag in the Hearth.

Theo took a tentative sip and discovered the brochure description to have been accurate. Seeing as step one of this operation had gone smoothly, he relaxed a little and looked around the moderately crowded pub.

This group of people were the greatest threat to the wizarding world? This unassuming bunch of humans going about their lives were somehow going to be eventually responsible for the collapse of magical society? How stupid was his father to have bought that preposterous lie?

Theo quietly snorted to himself and sipped his pint as the taste steadily grew on him. Boisterous laughter suddenly burst through the air, and Theo whipped his head to the right to locate the source.

And Theodore Nott was never the same again.

She caught his eye immediately. Her head thrown back in glee, the unrestrained joyfulness of her laugh carrying above those of her compatriots. Her smile was wide, genuine, and her teeth glowingly white against her complexion. She swept her long black braids into a ponytail behind her head, and then caught Theo's gaze. He looked away quickly, focusing on not spilling his pint, embarrassed at being found staring.

After a few minutes, he couldn't help himself. He looked across the room again. She was chatting animatedly with her group of friends, nodding emphatically at one of them, when she again looked up and straight at Theo. He averted his eyes.

This little dance went on for several more rounds, and though Theo cursed himself every single time, he couldn't stop his stare from wandering back to her, this vivacious woman seemed to light up the entire room. She gave him a playfully challenging grin, and Theo knew he was in trouble.

Polishing off the last of his drink, he thought it was about time to settle his tab for the evening. He'd completed what he'd set out to do, and it was time to end the charade and go back to his world.

As the barkeep approached, Theo opened his mouth to speak, but an exuberant voice cut him off.

"Can we get two more Cosmos, two lagers, an amber ale, a Guinness, and another pint of whatever this one's drinking?" She jerked her head at Theo. His mouth fell open and he tried to sputter a refusal, but she had already carried some of the drinks back to her group. She returned twice more to carry everything and still Theo could not find his voice.

Finally, she returned clutching her glass of ale as the bartender slid another Guinness in front of Theo.

"Hello," she said, and perched herself next to him with that wide, confident smile.

"Erm, hi. Thanks for the drink."

"Well, I got tired of waiting for you to buy me one, so I reckoned I might save you the trouble of making the first move."

Theo almost spat out his drink at her forwardness.

"You have been staring at me right? Don't think I didn't notice."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your evening," he said sincerely, and she threw her head back in a loud laugh.

"I did just buy you a drink, don't you think if I'd been offended I would have told you to bugger off?" she teased and Theo felt his entire face redden all the way to the tips of his ears. The striking woman was regarding him with mirth in her bright, amber eyes, and Theo felt a fluttering inside his chest.

"I'm Sasha," she offered, and held out her hand primly.

"Nott, Theo… I mean…" But Sasha had burst into laughter again and Theo found himself joining her this time at his blunder.

"Well are you Theo or not?" she teased.

"Let me try that again, I'm Theo Nott."

"Nice to meet you Not Theo," she grinned as they shook hands.

Theo had never met a more easygoing person in his life. Sasha, he learned, was enrolled in the culinary school up the road, which explained the matching white jackets she and the rest of her group had slung over the backs of their chairs. He asked her question after question, eager to learn everything he could about her life. She loved culinary school, but wanted to specialize in pastry and work as a head pastry chef in a restaurant eventually. Her parents were both from Ghana and met and fell in love at university here in London. They'd bonded over their love of learning and were both still professors; her mother of English literature and her father of mathematics. She had two older brothers, one was a classical pianist and the other following their father's footsteps in maths.

Theo drunk in every word she said, fascinated, his pint of alcohol long forgotten. She eventually posed personal questions back to him, and Theo did his best to navigate around the truth. He told her his job was in finance for the government (technically true, he did work in finance but for the wizarding government). He had to wangle his backstory when it came to family, and instead told Sasha his parents were no longer around (half true; his father was dead but even though his mother remained alive and well, Theo would describe their relationship as strained, at best). She patted his arm in sympathy, her lively eyes full of sadness for him, and Theo felt a warmth spread through his body that had nothing to do with alcohol.

He deftly turned the conversation back to her life, wanting to learn everything he could about her in this one night. Because when it was over, he'd go back to his lonely existence, but at least for tonight, he could be free of the burden of his heritage. Tonight he was just a bloke in a bar, chatting up a pretty girl.

Her friends eventually took their leave, but Sasha waved them off with a careless hand as they passed by, seemingly too interested in spending time with Theo. He couldn't stop the questions that tumbled forth: what was culinary school like? What was her favorite pastry to make? What was it like growing up in London? Why hadn't she followed in her parents' footsteps? Did she like having brothers? And on and on and on until they both jumped when the bartender announced last call.

Theo felt the despair sinking in as they settled their tabs and made to leave. He'd never felt more loose, more alive than when he'd been talking with Sasha, and now it was over and he'd never see her again. Sasha, however, had other plans.

"Here," she scribbled a series of numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to Theo. He looked down at it, confused. Was this some sort of code? And for what?

"My number," she said with a coy smile at his perplexed look. "I'd love to hang out again. Maybe you could buy me the drink next time? Have a good night, Not Theo." And with a cheery wave, she was off, leaving Theo standing in the middle of the sidewalk of Muggle London, clutching a scrap of paper and feeling like his entire world had shifted in but a few hours.

He succumbed into a frantic madness over the next few days, the likes of which he hadn't felt since he'd been studying for NEWTs. He needed to buy a mobile and figure out how to use it so he could communicate with Sasha. This was not like Theo, not at all. He was careful, quiet, methodical, rational. He kept his head down at the Ministry, and for the most part, no one really bothered him despite his last name. Connecting with Sasha could only lead to complications, something he studiously avoided in his current life, especially after the war. But an unexplainable urge coursed through him, an urge to seek out her company just one more time to see if those feelings from the other night had been real.

So he went back to the Ministry library. He read everything he could get his hands on about Muggle communication and technology. He basically interrogated a colleague in the Muggle Liaison Department on where to buy a portable phone. He ignored the puzzled looks from a Muggleborn witch he shared an office with as he asked her to show him how to use the mobile he'd purchased.

And so one week after meeting Sasha, he finally called her.

Two weeks later, they went on their first date: dinner at the pub and a movie. The movie terrified Theo, (how did Muggles still have their vision and hearing? That was nothing but two hours of an assault on the senses) but he found he enjoyed sitting so close to Sasha.

A week later he took her to dinner at a restaurant that had something called "3 Michelin stars" and Sasha seemed gobsmacked when Theo told her where they'd be dining. Her eyes bugged at the bill, but it was nothing for Theo, and he insisted on treating her.

The next week, she offered to cook for him at her flat, and Theo got his first look at a Muggle residence. He was fascinated by all the unfamiliar gadgets and appliances, but even more taken with the perfect salted caramel bread pudding she pulled out of the oven for dessert. He licked every last morsel from his spoon, and declared it the best thing he'd ever eaten. This caused the normally unerringly confident Sasha to blush with pride at the compliment and ask tentatively, "Really? You think it's that good?" And instead of reassuring her that the dish was indeed one of the best things he'd ever tasted and that she was obscenely talented, her quiet question spurred a different reaction.

"You're so beautiful," he intoned softly and the moment he stopped speaking her lips were on his. The next thing he knew, she was straddling his lap in the kitchen chair as he stroked her braided hair while they kissed away the remnants of caramel from each other's lips and tongues. Just as Sasha went to put her hands under Theo's shirt, the door swung open and signaled the arrival of her roommate. Theo leapt up, embarrassed at almost being seen in such a position and then at almost sending Sasha tumbling to the floor.

He muttered a hurried apology and practically ran from her flat. What was he thinking? This had gone far enough. How could he have let himself get so caught up in this woman, a Muggle, when they could absolutely not have a future together? What a stupendously selfish and short-sighted bastard he'd been.

These feelings of self-loathing lasted a whole week before he could no longer deny the urge to talk with her one last time. It was meant to bring closure, but the words stuck in his throat the second she picked up the phone. Instead, out tumbled an apology as he begged, begged, her to let him make it up. She was rightfully angry with him but eventually accepted his offer to take her to dinner.

The restaurant was only two Michelin stars this time (so it probably wasn't very good, reasoned Theo) but Sasha seemed impressed. However, instead of a farewell dinner, Theo laid his heart on the line. He was sorry he'd reacted poorly. He didn't regret kissing her. He was frightened by what he felt for her. He'd never met a woman, or even a person, like her. He'd had a really rough childhood, his father had been a brute, and only now, after his death, did Theo finally feel free of him. He'd never had a serious relationship before, had no clue how to act on his feelings for her.

Sasha bore all of these truths stoically as he unburdened some of his darkest fears and Theo felt the knots in his chest easing with each truthful sentence he uttered. Barring Draco and his own healer, these were thoughts he'd never shared with anyone, and with each layer he peeled back he could see her eyes softening.

She didn't let him all the way off the hook that night. She thanked him for dinner and said goodbye with a chaste kiss to his cheek after he'd escorted her back to her flat. "You're a little bit broken, Not Theo, but I find I don't mind much," Sasha said softly before leaving him for the night.

The next week, they met for dinner again at her flat and Theo was nervous the entire walk over. He handed her an insanely extravagant bouquet of flowers when she opened the door that made her jaw go slack. She yanked him inside by his shirt and before he could launch into a detailed explanation about each type of flower he'd selected, she crushed her lips against his and pressed him up against the door. She swiftly explained that her roommate was out for the night and pulled him along to her bedroom, the beautifully arranged flowers forgotten on the floor.

A month later and he was spending every weekend at her flat. Two months later and he told her he loved her (she responded in kind). Three months in, and she invited him to meet her parents (they thought he was a bit odd and too proper at first, but his quiet demeanor, impeccable manners, and erudite observations in conversation won them over within a mere few hours of introductions). More months flew by, and as their relationship blossomed and their love grew, Theo became so immersed in Muggle society and culture that he could comfortably discuss cricket with Sasha's father, lament global politics with her many uncles, dissect classic literature with her mother, chat about music with her pianist brother, and compare notes with her other brother on television shows and new films. It seemed the entire family was enamored with Sasha's gangly white boyfriend with the peculiar mannerisms and quiet enthusiasm for the world around him.

And every time Sasha had a question about Theo's mysterious past, he divulged just enough of the truth without disclosing anything about his magical life. His parents were dead (oh boy did that win him sympathy points with all of her aunts) and he'd survived an abusive childhood. He'd been sent to boarding school at a young age and had trouble fitting in, thus he didn't have many friends to speak of. He had a steady job in finance and could afford ridiculously fine dining and a posh home as the sole heir to his deceased father's fortune. Theo's hand had been forced into buying a furnished townhome in the Muggle neighborhood of Belgravia when Sasha once remarked that they never spent time at his place.

And so for the past year and a half, Theodore Nott convinced the woman he loved that he was nothing more than a Muggle accountant for the government. A lonely little rich orphan with no friends.

His mother lamented that he never spent time with her anymore. His elves were restless at Nott Estate with hardly any housework to be done or orders given by their absent master. His one friend, Draco, anxious to know why their Friday outings to the pub had diminished.

The double life started to eat at Theo. He loved Sasha with every fiber of his being, but how could he give himself to her fully when she didn't know the most fundamental thing about his existence? She had no idea how difficult it was at times to suppress the magic in his veins. She had no idea the horrors he'd survived as a child. She had no idea the horrors he'd survived at his boarding school at the hands of his father's master and cronies. She had no idea that had the Dark side won, he would have been expected to fall in line with his deranged father. He would have been expected to torture and kill people like Sasha and her family simply because they were non-magical.

And so when their talks drifted into the territory of houses, or futures, or forever, Theo's heart simultaneously soared in joy and clenched in panic. Sasha was everything he'd ever wanted: beautiful, smart, driven, friendly, kind, funny, and for some reason, as in love with Theo as he was with her.

But now he'd arrived at a crossroads. To tell, or not to tell? Keep up the charade or close this chapter?

Because the questions weren't stopping and they weren't getting any easier to deflect. He really didn't have any friends from school? Just exactly where in Scotland was this Hogwarts located? Funny name for a school, don't you think? Why hadn't he attended a university? Why had she never been introduced to any of Theo's work colleagues?

Theo was at a breaking point and since he'd neglected to tell his healer that the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, was actually a Muggle for fear of the course of action the healer would advise, Theo had impulsively owled Draco. Once the alcohol started flowing, he couldn't stop himself from revealing secret after secret, hoping that one of his oldest friends might understand what Theo sought with Sasha: a chance to finally live on his own terms. A chance that both he and Draco might have had if they hadn't been born into their cursed pureblood families. With their fathers gone, they finally could plan the lives they wanted without needing a formal contract to marry or seek a career or breathe without permission.

Theo met Draco's questioning gray eyes with desperate brown ones, needing the help of his friend, but not knowing how to ask.

When Theo finished his tale, Draco stared back helplessly. His friend had fallen head over heels for a Muggle and Draco's brain scrambled to come to terms with this fact.

"So that's it, that's my sorry story," Theo said glumly. "It's why I've been a ghost and a shitty friend to you. Merlin, this is some situation I've landed myself in."

Draco pitied his friend but remained lost as to how to make this better. He also couldn't help but feel as if all of this could have been avoided if they'd just asked one simple question growing up: why?

Muggles are inferior, Draco. Why?

We must serve the Dark Lord. Why?

You must marry a witch with the proper heritage upon graduation and produce an heir as soon as possible. Why?

Why? Why? Why?

"Theo, mate I… I truly don't know what to say."

Theo let out a derisive snort. "I guess I should have figured that. The great sole heir to the spoils of the house of Malfoy is not exactly the person I'd expect to approve of my predicament."

"Excuse me? Listen here—"

"You're excused. Look, I didn't unload all this onto you to hear a lecture."

"Lecture?"

"About how foolish I'm being to get myself involved with a Muggle woman."

"Of course it's foolish but that's not what I—"

"But what I really don't need from you, Draco, is a tirade about how I'm sullying myself with Sasha. I truly hoped you'd evolved enough by now to not think that way anymore, but perhaps I was mistaken. One word about how filthy you think Muggles are and I won't hesitate to curse that nose off your poncey face."

Draco clenched his jaw and tried to get a word in while also trying to hide how his friend's lack of confidence hurt.

"Theo," he ground out dangerously. "You need to listen to me."

"No I really don't. We've shared enough over the years about our despicable families, enough for me to know how messed up all that pureblood ideology made you, but I can see now I was wrong and your father's reach is too strong for you not to have turned out just like him."

"Enough!" Draco spat in such a startlingly accurate imitation of Lucius that he finally succeeded in shutting Theo up.

"If you don't let me speak I'm leaving and I'm not coming back, understood Nott?" Theo nodded but frowned warily.

"For the record, your lack of faith in our friendship is fucking astounding and it's going to take several more bottles of whisky for us to get past that," Draco began and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"But I'll try to help you," Draco murmured, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of his voice. "I'll try. I owe you, you know, after everything you did for me. All those times I Flooed over, blackout drunk and raving, trying to ignore that burning call in my blood for just one more potion? You've seen me at my absolute worst, did you not think I'd ever repay that favor?"

Theo had the decency to look abashed. "I'm sorry, I know… I'm sorry. It's only that…. I want to protect her, from everything, from my old life and I don't know who I can trust. I don't know how she'll react if she ever finds out about my family, about our role in the war. She'd hate me… I'd hate me." His voice trailed off in a resigned whisper.

Draco sighed and sipped his whisky. Theo had shown a willingness to be vulnerable, and Draco owed his friend some truth in return.

"I understand better than you might think. I'm seeing someone," Draco stated bluntly, staring down into his glass.

"Oh! Erm, good for you mate! Who?" Piquing Theo's curiosity seemed to pull him out of his melancholy.

"Granger. Hermione Granger."

Draco looked up to meet his friend's eyes and was puzzled to find him grinning. "Hermione Granger?"

"Yes."

Theo's grin only widened, his thin lips stretched as far as they could go. Then without warning, he threw his head back in a violent peal of laughter. There were actual tears coming out of his eyes as he continued to guffaw, drawing more than a few stares from other bar patrons. Draco recast the Sound-Interfering Charm with an irritated flick of his wand.

"Oh… oh Merlin… oh that was a good one." Theo chuckled and wiped his eyes.

"I fail to see the humor in the fact that I'm seeing Granger," Draco said stonily, putting on his iciest glare of intimidation but Theo would not lose his stupid grin of disbelief.

"Yeah, yeah, no one in their right mind would actually believe that."

Draco leveled him with an unblinking stare. "Some days I don't even believe it," he replied softly and Theo's eyes widened as the smile slid off his face.

"You're serious, aren't you? But… but she hated you. And you well… you weren't quite nice to her."

Draco snorted. "That's putting it lightly."

"And she… forgave you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Obviously," he drawled.

"How long have you been seeing her?"

"That part is relatively new I suppose… a month, month and a half?" Did one start counting a relationship from the first shag? This was a question probably best left to Granger.

"And how did you convince her to give you the time of day?"

"We've been friends for a while now, even before I apologized for everything, and then things sort of… progressed naturally from there."

Theo regarded Draco with a mixture of surprise and pride. "Merlin Malfoy this is… this is fantastic! This is fucking brilliant!"

"I'm not following."

Theo set his glass down, eyes now alight with the beginnings of a plan. "This is how you can help me! Think about it, Granger is quite possibly the most intelligent witch since Rowena Ravenclaw, right?"

"She's been known to have a few good ideas," Draco responded wryly.

"And she's Muggleborn!"

"You've lost me."

Theo began gesturing wildly with his hands, willing Draco to see the brilliance of his idea. "Don't you see? I can introduce you two to Sasha so she thinks I have friends!"

"I am your friend, you git."

Theo waved away this statement as a mere trifle of a fact. "Whatever. Look, we can go on a double date! Granger will be brilliant like she always is, and obviously being raised by Muggles she'll know how to act in front of Sasha and I'm sure she can keep you in line for an evening."

"Your confidence in me is truly touching. I'll have you know I've been out and about in the Muggle world and have yet to violate the Statute of Secrecy." Draco neglected to mention the incident just last weekend when he vanished a spilled glass of wine in a restaurant and Hermione gave him a complete dressing down about how lucky he was that no one had seen.

"So you'll do it then? You'll ask Granger for me?"

Draco huffed out a breath. "Fine, I'll help you keep lying to your little Muggle girlfriend. Don't expect Granger to be happy about it."

Theo looked so genuinely glad at Draco's agreement that he couldn't help but also feel something akin to joy. He had his friend back and had finally been able to tell another soul about his relationship that wasn't paid to listen to him.

Theo raised a freshly poured glass of whisky in his direction. "To Granger. Not sure what she sees in you, but honestly, well done." Draco rolled his eyes and accepted his friend's toast.

Things got progressively blurry after that. With the melancholic brooding portion of the evening completed, the two old friends began toasting everything ("honest to Salazar, McGonagall was the best professor at that blasted school, to McGonagall!") and anything ("television is ruddy brilliant, to telly!") as they shared a second and then a third bottle of Ogden's. Theo interrogated Draco about the budding romance between him and his former nemesis (Theo's words, Draco would never deign to be so dramatic), Draco's tongue getting looser with the increased consumption of alcohol.

"I should send her flowers!" Theo exclaimed suddenly.

"Who?"

"Granger, obviously!"

"What—why—why're you—sending my Granger—my girlfriend—flowers?" Draco slurred and finished with a hiccough.

"Because! She's so helpful! Y'know with all the Muggle stuff. I have to show her my grat—gratitude. She's smart, your girl." The normally quiet and reserved Theo was what one would call a hyperactive and overly excitable drunk. Draco on the other hand, generally landed more on the morose drunk side of the spectrum, but his friend's enthusiasm was contagious tonight.

"Yes! Yes. Women love—flowers—yes. Flowers! Oh Merlin," Draco set his drink down and looked panicked. "Oh Merlin's arse, do you know I've never given her flowers?"

"Not once? What's her—fav—favorite fl-flower?"

Draco put his head in his hands in defeat. "I've no bloody idea! Fuck, what is wrong with me!? Y'know she smells like hya—hyacinths… Granger does." Oh gods, he was the worst, just the absolute worst romantic partner in the history of relationships, he thought blearily.

"Ah mate, you're failing the most basic of pureblood etiquette rules. You've not sent the woman you're courting flowers! Mine loves daisies. Loves 'em."

"I think we're failing a lot of pureblood rules, don't you?" chortled Draco, suddenly chipper again. "Feels good, yeah?"

Theo joined in with a snigger. "Feels fucking fantastic. Look at us! Two—two pureblood scions, last of our lines, flouting all their bullshit decrees!"

He then jumped down from the barstool suddenly and gave an ungainly wobble. "Whoa there, this floor is uneven, should be looked at, that. I gotta piss," Theo announced and stumbled towards the bathroom. Draco remained slumped at the bar, alternately sipping another drink and muttering "should buy Granger flowers, I should," to himself repeatedly for several minutes.

"Mate!" Theo yelled in Draco's ear as he clapped him on the shoulders.

"Wh-where did ya…did you come from?"

"The loo!" he announced proudly. "I think I'm—I've had enough to drink. Hic—let's—hic—get on our brooms, yeah? I miss Sasha."

"No, no, no," Draco wagged a finger imperiously in Theo's face. "You can't fly tonight, you're drunk. I'm drunk. No, you're drunk... let's go."

"S'not what I meant, it's a figure of speech you dolt…" Theo mumbled as he plopped down more than enough gold to settle their bill.

As the pair burst out into the cool and fresh night air, Draco felt like he actually was flying. They stumbled and tottered down the street with as much dignity as they could muster, which, given their level of inebriation, did not amount to much.

"Flowers!" Theo shouted suddenly and like an excited toddler in a toy store, dragged Draco by the elbow to his destination.

"Flowers," Draco echoed with a silly grin on his face as they came to a stop in front of a shop window.

A/N: Thank you for continuing on with me and this story, and I so appreciate all your interactions with it! Asks are always open on tumblr: heyjude19-writing.