My Magzillasaurus - god bless her beta-editing talent - described this chapter as hilarious. You are warned, and no it's not the pageant. That's a bun I'm cooking... lol. Don't say you're not warned.

Chapter Nineteen

Bloomsbury Bowling Lane was the place to be in downtown Muggle London, if you searched for a fancy looking bowling alley straight out of retro-America, with luxurious sofas, serving deep pan American pizzas and offering DJ music to give the whole package a funky feel.

It was Harry's first thought, meant to release today's pent up frustration, knowing the love for dancing from his two favourite witches and how the other women had enjoyed the pub the other day. They waited to check in, the next in line behind a group that was pretty evenly sized as theirs, "Hermione, we'll need a massive confundo or that last lane is going to be bye-bye right under our noses."

"Cover us, and we'll handle it." Draco joined forces with his talented witch and, hidden behind the wall Blaise and Harry created, they confused the party of eight before them; high-fiving in the shape of a quick peck on the lips. "We're the best."

"Stop being cocky, you get this inflated look on your face." Her hand waved in front of his face, show-off Malfoy made an appearance.

"I'll give you all the inflated you need when we're alone."

Blaise sneered, "We don't need to be part of your foreplay, you two. Keep the bed-talk for the bedroom, please and thank you!"

The group was led to the last unoccupied lane, retro leather sofas waiting to be claimed. A waitress on rollerskates - loudly chewing on her bubblegum - approached with the menus, requesting their order for drinks.

"Love, what should I order?" He barely recognised a listed beverage.

"Do you prefer non-alcohol or would you rather try a beer?"

"Beer as in butterbeer?"

"Less sugar, more alcohol. Or you have the fizzy drinks like at my place, the cola or the orange lemonade?"

"Potter, what are you drinking?" He was into something new, expanding his taste for Muggle food and drinks.

"I'm taking an ale, I'll switch later for a soda before I get so wasted that I can't find my way home..." Harry wiped his eyeglasses on the tip of his shirt, cursing the fog on the lenses.

"Was my advice not enough?" Someone felt ignored.

"Love, I listened to your suggestion, but I wanted a male input. Don't be mad, you are my favourite Muggleborn." He perused the menu with all the pizza flavours, "Which is your pick?"

"The barbecue, I love the smokey taste of the sauce and the bacon."

"Watch me order the same. See? I listen to your suggestion and follow it?"

"My suggestion would be, smart arse, take something else, and we can nip from both pizzas."

He saw her point, perusing the menu again, "Princess, I don't know what tuna is, pineapple together with ham is that even edible? What the hell is sal-ami?"

"Salami? In French, it translates into a dirty friend, ami salé. In fact, it's a quite seasoned sausage. It gives some spice to the ham without being flaming hot."

"Can we try this all mix up full of vegetables? It has peppers, mushrooms, your dirty friend, corn…"

"The tuna is fish, Draco. I like that one also, its salty in the mouth; but we'll do it at another time. You pick your royal mix, I go for the bacon barbeque, and we eat from both."

It surprised Draco again, how easily they got to an agreement. Hermione's reasoning skills were quite refreshing compared to the foot-down from Pansy or any other Pureblood witch. He could recall the times one or another used tears to get their will accomplished, often losing in the end. He could be as stubborn as them if need be.

Hermione suggested, discussed the pros and cons and accepted his opinion without a fuss. One more thing he really appreciated about her, she was like a true partner…

The ale came, and he enjoyed the taste of malt on his tongue, "Nice drink, Potter. I'm starting to think that we are kind of limited within our Wizard ways."

"In a way, we are. We don't have pizzas, we stick to the traditional British cuisine and don't try what's on the other side of the pond, drinks are also less varied. Cola - Ron's favourite, mine is the lime-lemon drink called Sprite or 7up depending on the place where we end up, there is more to enjoy than tea, pumpkin juice and butterbeer. It's not healthier, by far, too much sugar. Hermione's parents cringed when we drank those, complaining about the damage to our teeth."

"That's true, they never stopped fussing about it." Hermione sipped from her Fanta, seeing her glass be hijacked for a taste. Draco bobbed his head in approval. "You'll ruin your teeth, Hermione!" She impersonated her mother.

"I think I don't mind not discovering what dentihealers exactly do. By what I've heard, your parents have quite a scary profession." The thought of a drill close to his precious teeth gave Draco the shivers. Hermione nudged him while making room on the table for all their pizzas.

The purebloods sought the cutlery, but Harry demonstrated, "It's like a barbeque, eat with your hands." A string of cheese followed his bite, and he kept nipping until it finally ripped off. He grinned with his mouth covered in tomato sauce.

Pansy and Daphne looked around at the other tables but found not one girl eating her food according to the table etiquette; in the end, they surrendered under pressure with a napkin under their triangle, against the seeping grease. The fluffy dough received everyone's approval, turning their dinner into a pizza party, tasting everyone's choice to decide which was their favourite.

Harry's spicy chicken was the preference of the men, while the girls wavered between the smoky taste of barbecue or the salty flavour of smoked salmon with a drizzle of lemon.

Harry spoke between bites, "Hey guys, you should pay attention to how the other lanes are playing, get the hang of how the game is done."

"You choose a ball, you swing your arm, and you knock all the pins down." As Blaise described it, it seemed like walk in the park.

"Exactly, Zabini. I invite you to choose ball sixteen and do a strike." Harry smiled as a true Slytherin.

"I don't know what the catch is, but I accept your challenge. If you win…"

"You'll drink a shot per lost point."

Daphne jumped in, "Plus tongue-kiss a wizard from the opposite house!" A blush rose on her face, after her bold words.

"Wait, how many points could that be?"

"The strike itself can go to a maximum of a nineteen." Harry was calculating how many shots that could be in its entirety. "It leaves you with at least ten shots of tequila to drink if you end up in the worst case scenario knocking down zero pins."

"Granger, if I do this strike of his…" Blaise was thinking about the counter service.

"You could say that he has to drink the shots of your bonus, doubled."

"I don't follow, Granger."

"Allow me a minor lecturing, the points of the strike are determined by your next turn. The amount of pins is the bonus on the top of the ten. For example, if you knock down four pins on your second go, you get fourteen for the strike."

"And he would have to drink quickly calculated, eight shots."

"Exactly, plus Daphne wants you to kiss a wizard from the opposite house, I say he has to, likewise."

"If I lose, I'll snog Ronald dear."

"Hell no!" Pansy scowled, "Use Potter."

"Nope, I always wanted to taste a redhead." Blaise winked at Ginny. "Potter, who will you snog?"

"Malfoy. I'm taking a page out of your book and will rile up my best friend as you do. Are we doing this?"

Hands were shaken, "You're on, mate. Draco, I'll frame your kissy-kiss with scarhead here, and publish it on the Prophet. House unity and such..."

To a stranger, it looked as longtime friends were taking a joke on each other, instead of recently nemeses turned friends.

"Harry, the stakes are high, if Blaise has beginners luck..."

Luna remarked, "Neither of them should have their wands during that game, to keep it all fair play." Everyone nodded except the two in question, who already planned to draw the winning to them. "Hermione, will you hold them?"

"No, I'm not impartial enough… you take them, no one will suspect you of messing up." Denying the logic was hard.

The waitress set down a new round of drinks and cleared the table of the empty plates, while Hermione and Harry set up the monitor for their games. "On the screens, you can follow the progress, Harry will you do the honours to open the game?"

Cracking his fingers, he chose a fourteen-ball and threw it fluently over the lane.

Hermione settled on Draco's lap, "Princess, will you explain to me what this is all about? What's the fuss about the sixteen and this strike."

"Strike is when you knock down all the pins in one throw." She stopped to cheer for Harry, his score is at eight, the wizard now helping his girl with her try. "If you throw it in two tries, it's called a spare, and you also get ten points plus the score of your first ball in the second round, instead of the score from both balls. I'll show you when it happens." Ginny succeeded in only knocking down two pins at the second try, the slow mocking applause was rewarded by the finger. Ron's turn.

Her explanations got more audience than first, "The sixteen Harry mentioned is the actual weight in pounds of one of those balls, being sixteen the heaviest, the lightest weights only six pounds, see that orange ball over there with a six on it? That's what it means. I prefer a ten personally, above becomes for me too heavy to swing decently; lower doesn't have the power I need to reach and knock down one of those pins."

"How difficult is it to knock down a strike?"

"The professional players know how to aim and such, but me? Mostly luck." Ron did better than Ginny, with his three pins. The first Slytherin was up, Pansy. "Watch, Draco."

"Don't laugh at her, she can't handle loss too well."

"Who says I can?" She cheered as Pansy succeeded in aiming a ball to the sides, "Great move, Pansy! Do it again!"

"Agh, thanks, love you too." Pansy stuck her tongue out.

The second ball followed the first, "Pansy, there's a saying, bad luck in the games, good luck in love."

"Let me laugh, har har har." The comment missed its bitchy sneer, times did change. "Draco, darling, it's your turn."

"Which ball should I take?"

"Start with a twelve or a fourteen? Raise them to have a feel and choose then…" She walked with him to the ball machine, "Take this one, the finger holes are larger."

Taking her advice on board, he tested his options and gave the preference to the fourteen, hooking his fingers inside the holes. In the lane next to his, another bloke took the balance and swung his arm with quite a power. He copied the man, whirled his arm back and sent the ball flying, almost losing his balance in the process; the weight slightly underestimated.

He knocked out eight of the ten in one swing, "Yes!" He beamed but scratched his head, wondering how to take down the other two, while they were the furthest apart.

"You can't Draco, try to reach one of the two. It's nearly impossible for the professionals, much less for a newbie." Hermione's remark doused a little of his enthusiasm, while he searched for a second fourteen. Impatient, he gave the sixteen a try, feeling the weight well on his biceps. The intention to aim for the right turned, in reality, into a trail to the left, but nevertheless, he was rewarded with the fall of the ninth.

"Potter, I guess I'm better at this."

"Oh no, we're not turning the night into a competition between two egos." Hermione swatted Draco's arse, "Or I'll…"

"Help me, Potter! I'm scared!" Everyone roared.

By then, Hermione found her ten, retreated a few steps and with her leap, she threw the correctly aimed strike.

The girls applauded while the boys snorted, "Beginner's luck."

From a nearby lane, one of the blokes whistled, "Nice move, lovely."

Draco pushed her closer against his body, claiming his witch. The fun had evaded his expression. To calm his fury, she kissed him fully on the mouth, "You're my man, relax."

He pulled her tightly, dominating her, "Hmm."

Blaise was up, and not being the man to retreat on his word, he chose the similar sixteen from Draco, grunting lowly from exertion. His first swing was poorly placed, and the ball landed in the gutter halfway down lane. Harry and Ron applauded loudly, while the rest watched in suspense. Bummed, the tension was readable on his face. Take two; the waiting time for the ball only increasing his nerves.

He snaked the ball out of the tunnel, and put all his might into the new swing, to see slowly how the ball again leaned to the right… his fingers flexed around his wand, a detail both wizards forgot. "Be the better man and accept your loss, Blaise. It's just a game." Daphne rubbed his wand-arm away, talking with her face leaning over his shoulder, "Do it for me."

"You ground me, woman."

"With pleasure." All eyes were on the nine pins, two were down, and the third wavered.

Breaths were held.

Grunts and cheering followed, the third held on. "Zab's, mate, it's seven shots for you! Hee hee."

"Did Potter just giggle?"

"I guess he did, Draco." Hermione chuckled, "Check out Ron and your Pansy…" Both flushing aware of the consequences.

Pansy snorted, "Daph, you're a great friend, wait until I find a decent payback!"

"It's just a kiss, not a marriage proposal…" Daphne waved it off, more concerned how drunk Blaise could become from tequila on the top of all the beer he already had consumed. "Do we have any pepper-up potions?"

"My dear, I'll be crashing at your place tonight, to avoid splinching." Blaise was planning ahead, knocking down a quarter of his ale, probably the third glass by now.

"You can sleep on the sofa at Draco's."

"Not happening. Blaise cuddles when he's wasted, right Theo?"

"How many nights did he crawl with us in bed, completely pissed…"

"Countless." The memory brought a mocking smile to Draco's face, during the times when the Dark Lord was remote passage in history, and their only fear was being caught outside curfew hours, smoking and getting pissed at the Astronomy tower.

The next round of bowling started a bit later, with Luna cheering for her talent to hit the gutter and Theo shaking his head in adoration, while he knew the game was way different than what she had in mind.

In the end, only Hermione and Daphne succeeded in smashing a strike, Draco and Harry engaged in a neck in neck race with two spares and a few zeros also, Blaise not even once achieving cleaning the lane.

The boy's group on the lane at their left focussed heavily on the Hogwarts witches, whistling provocatively while the girls aimed their best shots. It took Harry and Blaise all their effort to soothe the anger of Draco and Ron, especially when one of them shouted "The brunette and her dark-haired friend would fit better with us... we have cookies."

Probably the level of consumed alcohol played a particular part, for once a Weasley and a Malfoy combining forces to teach those wankers a lesson. The peace returned only when both witches dragged their wizards to the sofa and sat on their laps, grounding them with promises for later that night.

"It's shots time!" Harry ordered a bottle and enough glasses, pouring everyone a drink. "I want you to test it, but our man here is going to slam eight of these back and then kiss my mate over there." The embarrassment was nowhere to be spotted, all following Harry's lead taking the drink. Blaise bravely consumed the second and the third, having troubles focusing on the ones to follow, but stubbornly holding on under the loud cheers.

"Ah! Now I'm wasted enough for the next part. Come here, love of my life!" He pulled Ron's face abruptly, kissing him fully on the mouth. "My lifetime dream comes true! I've snogged a ginger!" Ron barely recovered from the shock, while all the others roared loudly in laughter.

Pansy took her wizard in her arms, "Think of my kiss instead, Ron." His confusion was obvious on his face, while accepting a heated kiss.

The stud from earlier wiggled his eyebrows suggestively on passing. Draco felt his anger return in full force, but Hermione was already a step ahead, forcing him to face her, "I don't like the wacko, I prefer blonds nowadays." The whole party startled when lights dimmed to focus on the dancing floor. "Come and dance with me."

-oOo-

It was way after midnight as they all stumbled back home. Blaise proved Draco and Theo's point by cuddling with Harry all the way to the apparition point, who wasn't entirely sober either, both singing medleys into the empty streets of London; unable to walk in a straight line. "Always look on the bright side of life!" sung on repeat with its corresponding whistle.

Luckily, Hermione cast a muffliato around the group to prevent disturbance to the neighbours. Her wizard leaned heavily on her too, his tolerance for muggle alcohol had reached his limits also, "Lovely swot of mine, do you know my father told me I was completely forbidden of even thinking to date you?" His splutter heavy on his speech. "He told me he would feed my willy to a dragon if I ever came home with you on my arm." He missed a step. "But I couldn't help it when you were so lovely dressed in that blue gown… a princess…"

Hermione chuckled, "Let's get you home, my knight. Next time we'll not be combining shots with ales…"

"My Herminny, have I told you already that I love you?" He pulled her to a full stop, a cheesy smile on his face, "I love you very much, Herminny, I want to make many, many babies with you, make our own Malfoy Quidditch team…" Hermione had to hoist him up, he was pulling her down. His drunk talk needed to end before he said something more embarrassing. "I had no idea mudbloods - no, no wait, ugly word, m'sorry, shouldn't say it. A new try," He hiccuped, "I had no idea my muggleborn was such a hot piece…"

"Now you've had enough, Malfoy. Let's get you home." If she could, she would dig a hole and hide in it, to escape the telling glares of Daphne and Ginny; Luna and Pansy were also in slightly over their head.

"Herminny, your tities are perfect, I can't wait to nibble on them."

"Ginny, are you talking these three with you?" Hermione motioned towards Harry, Ron and Pansy.

"Yes, don't worry. Take your wizard home before we discover more bed secrets." As she spoke, Ginny linked her cargo for a side-apparition, "Tonight was fun!"

Daphne had quite some trouble keeping her Blaise upright, he tried to kiss her lips despite his legs giving out, "I'll bring this clown to my home, he can sleep off his stupor on the sofa!" Blaise sang loudly into her ear, some Italian love song none recognised, "What a hero."

At last, it was only Hermione left, Draco still professing his love for her intimate parts, "I can't wait until I can dip my dick into your hot pussy, which tastes so good. Push my cock hard-"

"That's enough, my knight. Let's get you home..." He might be wasted, but his talk was flustering her.

"Can I have a little dip? Just a little one… I'm so hungry…"

"You can sleep on the sofa, Draco." Holding him tight, she apparated into her living room, grunting, he was a heavy bloke.

"No, not the sofa… love please…" Too tired to start arguing about the sleeping arrangements, she brought him to her bedroom, dumping his royal arse onto her bed. He beamed, "Much better, sweetie…" He snored loudly, falling asleep almost immediately.

"What a hero…" Hermione took care of his shoes, unhooking his belt and pulling his slacks off keeping his trunks in place. The shirt was transformed into a comfortable fitting t-shirt. Covering him with a sheet, she moved to the other side and pulled her nighty over her head. Barely stretched on the bed, he snaked an arm around her waist and curled around her frame, sighing contentedly. He was also a cuddler when wasted, after all...