A/N- Thank you all so much for continuing to accompany me on this little Soleada journey! I appreciate your follows, favourites, and reviews more than you know! This chapter is dedicated to Thouerisz, whose exceedingly kind review simply made my day! Much love, my friends!

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Theo glanced around the crowded bar, chuckling when he saw the bobbing of several reporters' heads outside the Leaky Cauldron window. "You're quite the celebrity now," he said, tilting the bottle of Butterbeer against his lips. "It's too bad for them there's nothing to see here tonight. Where is she anyway?"

Draco rolled his eyes, tipping his head back to swallow a teeming mouthful of Firewhisky. "I already told you. She's on a date." It sounded like the word cost him all his Galleons in Gringotts to choke out.

Theo laughed mirthlessly. "Right, how could I have forgotten. Who's the lucky sod again?" he asked, not bothering to wait for a reply. "Oh yeah, now I remember- it's not you."

"You're such an arsehole, you know that?"

Ignoring the insult, he continued undeterred, "And why is it not you?" He shook his finger in feigned recollection. "Oh, yes, I recall now. It's not you because you didn't get up the bollocks to tell her you fancy her."

Draco shook his head, fixing Theo with a look of deep disdain. "Granger and I are colleagues, despite what the papers say. Therefore, she is free to date whomever she wants- whenever she wants." He took another long draw of Firewhisky, glancing aside as a camera flashed just beyond the windowpane.

"The hungry mob wants its Dramione." Theo snickered, tightening his grip around his bottle.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Draco asked, pursing his lips in distaste.

"Haven't you seen the papers? It's what they're calling you and Granger. It's a portmanteau," he clarified, seeing the look of confusion on his friend's face. "A combination of your name and Granger's. Draco plus Hermione. Dramione. It's actually quite ingenious if you think about it."

"You can't be fucking serious right now." He ran both hands through his hair, pausing before dragging them down the length of his face. "They actually have a name for us?" he groaned. "And here I thought this may all blow over."

"Oh, it's not blowing over, I assure you. These media savages can't get enough of this story- devastatingly handsome, and not to mention obscenely wealthy aristocrat with a dark past meets the flawless beauty, and not to mention crown jewel of the wizarding world, who just so happens to be the witch he's been pining after since he was eleven years old- I mean, you gotta admit, it's the stuff of fairytales."

Draco fought another groan. "What are you on about, Nott? I have not been pining after Granger since I was eleven years old."

Theo snorted as he glanced at him in bemusement. "I figured you'd say that. But you forget, I've known you since you were in nappies. So, therefore, nothing gets past me."

Draco spared him an affronted shake of his head. "Just because I once mentioned I wouldn't mind getting locked in a broom closet with her does not mean I was pining after her."

"Whatever you say, mate." He looked away vacantly, taking another long pull of his beer. When Draco stifled a derisive laugh, Theo added, "Look, you can lie to yourself, but don't expect me to join you."

Stubborn pride remained securely hidden behind Draco's stoic façade, not allowing for him to formulate a believable response, so instead, a tortured silence descended on their table.

"What are you afraid of anyway?" Theo finally added. "Because the way I see it, you're going to wait too long and then live to regret it for the rest of your life."

"You're starting to sound like Pansy," Draco muttered under his breath, his grey gaze flickering back to the media frenzy erupting outside the window.

"Well then, she'd be right." He paused, watching Draco's brow twitch with apprehension. "So, this is it then?" he asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. "You're going to play the denial game and I'm going to have to sit here and watch you brood for the rest of the night? Hell, if that's the case, I'm out." He slapped down what amounted to his part of the bill and moved to stand.

Draco's eyes snapped up to his friend's. "Wait," he demanded, ignoring the sea of flashing lights from cameras eager to capture the confrontation. "Do you want your untimely departure to be fodder for tomorrow's front page?" A glare of caution eyed Theo challengingly.

Theo glanced over his shoulder toward the door before huffing a heavy sigh and dropping back into his seat. "Fine," he muttered, "but if I'm staying, you better crawl out of this deep, dark, bleeding hole you've dug yourself. Because I can't sit here and watch you torture yourself any longer. Seriously mate, what's it going to take for you to man up and tell Granger how you feel?"

"You need to back off, Nott," Draco hissed warningly, leaning forward in his chair. "There isn't a Hades chance in hell that Granger sees me as anything other than an objectionable comrade that she scarcely tolerates- and that's on a good day. Were I to have feelings for her- which I most assuredly do not- the last thing I would do is dismantle the already tenuous working relationship we currently cling to."

Theo held up his hands placatingly. "Easy, princess. I wasn't trying to start another wizarding war." He shook his head in piteous exasperation, studying his defeated friend. "You know what, I think you need another drink." He gestured with his hand toward the barkeep to bring another round. "Firewhisky always makes everything better." He smiled roguishly, reaching over to tip the edge of Draco's glass up toward his mouth.

Draco yanked his glass away, fixing Theo with a deeply annoyed glare. "Why do I even put up with you?" he snapped, shaking his head.

"Because you love me- and because I'm one of your oldest and nearest and dearest friends," he sing-songed, batting his eyelashes and flashing him his prettiest too-wide smile.

Draco feigned disgust, moving to tip back another swallow of his drink.

"Speaking of which, how is your little house-guest doing? Is she coming tonight?"

Draco sniffed. "Who knows. It's only been two days and I'm already close to sending her packing."

"I'm surprised you've lasted that long." Theo chuckled as the barkeep set down their next round of drinks, mouthing a muffled thank you before watching her sashay away. "So what's the current controversy? Her fiancé not wealthy enough to sustain her ravenous shopping habits?"

Draco laughed under his breath. "Shockingly, no. They split up- something about him wanting to move to the States." He shrugged off his disinterest. "I'm sure there was more to it, but she never really said."

"So, then what brought her back to Britain if not to lay her emotional baggage on your doorstep?"

Draco stiffened, rolling his ice around inside his empty glass. "She has the same problem you do of minding her own business."

Theo's smirk stretched into a grin. "So, she thinks you should make your move with Granger too then." The statement caused Theo to sit up straighter in his seat.

Draco's jaw tightened. "She shares the same irritating opinion you do, yes."

"And?"

"And nothing," he replied, eyeing Theo's blank expression. "Besides, I think she may have already given Granger the wrong impression."

Theo's eyes widened. "Wait, she actually talked to Granger?"

"Not specifically, no."

"Then what are you on about?"

"Granger stopped by the Manor last night- unannounced. And basically walked in on Pansy and me having a conversation in the sitting room- in our pyjamas," he added, watching Theo's expression morph into horrified astonishment.

"Fuck. She didn't." He shook his head from side to side in a stunned daze.

"She did. And while I can't be sure, I'm fairly certain she now thinks Pansy and I are hooking up."

"Shite," Theo said, blanching as Draco's eyes flickered to somewhere else in the room.

"So did you tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

"Did you tell her that you and Pansy aren't hooking up?"

"I told her that Pansy and I are childhood friends, yes."

Theo shook his head. "That's not what I asked. I said, did you tell her you and Pansy aren't shagging?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Not specifically, no. I figured that was implied when I told her Pansy is an old friend."

Theo chortled as he shook his head mirthlessly, hanging it in disbelief. "Gods, for being the Slytherin prince or stallion or whatever the hell they used to call you, it baffles me that you are this clueless when it comes to this one witch."

Draco glowered at his friend. "I'm glad this is so entertaining to you," he said in a dry tone. "Since you seem to be ever the ladies man- who may I add, never has a lady- do tell, what would you have had me do?"

"First of all, if you're looking to get Granger's attention, having another bird crashing at your place is not a good way to start. But seeing as you've already mucked-up that seemingly obvious cardinal rule, here we are." He stopped him before he let out a scoff. "At this point, all there's left to do is damage control."

"And why would I need to do damage control when it makes absolutely no difference whatsoever if she thinks we are hooking up or not?"

Theo rolled his eyes and slapped his hand down hard onto the table. "Maybe because it makes all the difference in the world whether or not she thinks you're shagging someone!" he practically shouted over the din.

"Keep your voice down," he hissed with an admonishing glare. "And why should that matter anyway? Granger's off living her own life. I hardly think she's losing sleep at night over my love life- or lack thereof." He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

Theo leaned forward, practically flat with the table, and muttered in a hushed tone, "It matters because if she thinks you're already shacking up with someone else, it will drive her away. In fact, I'd be willing to bet she's snuggling up to ol' what's his face at this very moment because she doesn't think she's got a shot with you."

Draco's expression soured as he leaned back even further in his chair. "Give me a break- she made that decision long before Pansy came into town."

"But," Theo began artfully, "that was before the kiss."

Draco's brow furrowed. "What kiss?"

Theo smacked the table again even louder. "Gods, keep up!" he shouted, before leaning forward and lowering his voice. "The kiss, you tosser! The kiss that left your pupils blown wide and her fighting to remember her name!"

"Is that what happened?" Draco asked sardonically. "And you know this how? Let me guess, you were there." He rolled his eyes before swallowing a gulp of Firewhisky.

"I didn't need to be there. Anyone with eyes saw it plastered all over the cover of the Daily Prophet. That kind of chemistry can't be manufactured, mate. And if you felt it, you can damn well guarantee she did too." He tipped his bottle of Butterbeer back against his lips, swallowing effortlessly. "And there's only one way to find out if I'm right."

"And that is?"

"You have to set the stage for it to happen again. See if it was a fluke- a one-time deal."

"That's ridiculous," he drawled frowning.

"Ridiculous, but effective."

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"You don't," he corrected non-plussed. "You have someone else do it for you. That way it doesn't actually seem staged."

"And I suppose you know just the person who is capable of recreating this spectacular moment you've seemed to conjure up in your mind."

His expression turned to a playful smirk, causing Draco to bristle.

"Why do I get the feeling you've already got some half-cocked plan lurking up your sleeve?"

"What ever do you mean?" Theo asked, flashing him a coquettish grin.

Draco groaned. "Out with it, Nott. I don't have time for your childish games."

"Fine," he conceded, leaning forward in his chair conspiratorially. "Word on the street is that the Weasel and his hen are having an anniversary party- a soiree of sorts. Dinner, drinks, dancing- blah, blah, blah- you get the point. Anyway, it's the perfect backdrop for another one of your little romantic encounters."

Draco shook his head, laughing humorlessly. "What are you, twelve? Do you even hear yourself talking? Not only is that the single most pathetic idea you've had to date- and believe me, you've had some real winners- but you're going off the hilariously erroneous assumption that I'd find myself anywhere near a Weasley function."

Theo shook off his harsh criticism with a brisk wave of his hand. "Have ye no faith?" he asked feigning offense. "I do my research. And I have it on good word that the event is a plus-one. Sooooo- seeing as you and Granger are an item- at least according to the Prophet- she will have no other choice but to invite you. Boom! The stage is set for your little snogging sesh!"

Draco dropped his head into his hand, mumbling something under his breath that sounded vaguely like, "Why the fuck am I still friends with you?"

"You're still friends with me because you know I'm a mythical mastermind- and you know that if you follow my brilliant plan right down to the little gasp you're going to hear escaping Granger's throat- that you'll get the answer you know you so desperately desire."

Draco looked up. "Right, because the last time I followed one of your brilliant plans, things turned out so bloody well."

"Hey, the whole taking Granger to France to meet mommy and daddy thing- that's on you, mate- cuz I'm pretty sure I used some sort of a tone that's widely accepted in most parts of the world or some shite like that- that you should have understood to mean this is a terrible fucking idea."

Draco frowned looking at a spot over Theo's shoulder. "Speaking of my exceedingly poor taste in childhood acquaintances, don't look now, but here comes Pansy. Behave yourself," he warned. "And don't bring up anything we talked about here."

"Hey, she's the one who has a problem with me. I get along with everybody," he said, looking down to inspect his cuticles.

Pansy Parkinson was a witch who stood out in a crowd- and at the moment, Draco wasn't sure that was a good thing for someone like him who was trying his best to blend into the woodwork. Heads turned as the leggy brunette sauntered over, clad in attire that would have been highly appropriate for a nightclub in New York City, but was assuredly not suited for a run-down tavern in Diagon Alley. Every patron would be able to hear the resounding clicking of her 3-inch heels were it not for the cacophony of chatter echoing throughout the bar. The severely irritated look upon her face gave even the most enthusiastic of oglers pause, causing them to avert their stares for fear of what unpleasant consequence would befall them for being caught looking. Her condescending scowl left no doubt that this worldly witch had to lower herself several stations to deign a night out in her pathetic hometown.

"Can't you throw some Galleons at them and make them go away?" she simpered, looking back with a scowl at the crowd of reporters congregating outside the Leaky. She came to a halt in front of Draco, chin angled upward expectantly.

Draco immediately rose from his chair, courtesy of proper breeding, and placed a kiss on each of Pansy's cheeks. "Pansy," he muttered.

He moved to pull out his chair, gesturing with his outstretched hand for his fetching friend to have a seat. But before she did, she looked over with distaste, unhurriedly raking her eyes over the slovenly form of one Theo Nott and with a grimace uttered, "Nott. Nice to see you. You look- well."

"Thanks, Pansy. Good to see you, too," he managed. As she turned back to Draco, dropping smoothly into her chair, Theo rolled his eyes and took a long swallow of his beer.

After tucking her in with a steady nudge, Draco made his way over to the other side of the table where he settled in next to Theo.

"So what brings you here tonight, Pansy?" Theo asked, looking around indifferently.

She huffed out a sigh. "Believe me, this is the last place I wanted to be, but the Manor walls were beginning to close in on me. They're dreadfully oppressive." With a brush of her hand, her pin-straight locks swept behind her shoulder.

"So why don't you leave and go back to wherever it is you live these days?" he asked, aiming for impartiality but ending up sounding like a suggestion.

Pansy made a face. "I would but I'm in between places at the current moment. Francisco and I needed some space, so I'm here until he sorts out his priorities." Which was to say she was there until he came around to seeing things her way.

"Can't you stay with your parents?" he asked, again sounding like a suggestion.

She sniffed, reaching into her clutch for her pressed powder. "Where have you been, Nott? My parents moved to France ages ago."

Theo tried and failed not to roll his eyes but fortunately, she was too busy powdering her nose to notice. "How should I have known? They didn't exactly leave me their forwarding address."

"Pansy, what are you drinking?" Draco asked, motioning with his hand for the bartender who was just outside his line of sight through the thickening crowd.

She closed her compact, securing it in her purse before answering. "I'll have a Dark n' Stormy," she said, scoffing in opposition when Draco inclined his brow. "What? I'm going through a phase," she defended, jutting out her chin and straightening her blouse. "And it doesn't help that I'm living with the architect of brooding himself." She shook her head, fastening the clasp on her clutch.

"I'm not broody," he said, looking over at Theo who was unsurprisingly nodding his head at Pansy in agreement. "So you can just piss off- unlike you, I'm under a lot of stress at work- something you, Pansy, would know nothing about."

Pansy nodded her head placatingly, an irritating smirk donning her over-painted face. "What ever could possibly be troubling you at work, Draco?" Her honeyed voice was anything but sweet.

"For starters, we're currently in the throes of a rather significant case that seems to be descending into madness with each passing day."

"And?" she asked, scrutinizing his indignant expression.

"And not to mention, I have Potter breathing down my neck to leave for Egypt, which seeing as I've just returned from out of the country, has me understandably a fair bit disgruntled. So, if I seem a bit broody, as you like to put it, I have very good reason to be."

She drummed her buffed and polished nails on the table, cataloging his pathetic list of grievances and fixing him with a dubious stare. "It's rather intriguing that you neglect to mention the media mayhem that has loomed like a dementor's mist these past few days." She surveyed the mob of restless reporters lurking outside the window. "I'll admit, even for an attention-seeker like me, it's a fair bit off-putting." She feigned interest in examining her perfectly manicured fingernails.

"I neglect to mention it because as you can see I've successfully ignored its existence." He narrowed his eyes at her challengingly.

Pansy's face twisted. "Or- perhaps you neglected to mention it because you know the very reason for its existence is a bushy-headed swot-and that's a topic you're so glaringly obviously trying to forget."

Draco huffed out an annoyed sigh before pushing out his chair and rising to stand. "I'm going to get our drinks. Nott, a refill?" When he nodded in approval, Draco stalked off to the bar leaving a smirking Pansy in his wake.

Theo shrugged. "I've already tried goading him. It doesn't work."

"Well, I'm not giving up," she said, plucking a fleck of lint off her skirt.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a measure of time before Theo finally cut in, "So how'd you find out about this?" His head nodded toward the swarm of reporters.

Pansy yawned.

"My mother," she exhaled stolidly. "My parents were at the Malfoy Chateau- saw the whole thing themselves. Said it was even more dreadful in person if that can be believed."

Theo muffled his laughter. "Dreadful how?"

Pansy scrunched up her face. "Dreadful as in a vulgar, highly indecent spectacle of epic proportions," she clarified with renewed vigor. "I knew I needed to come immediately to find out what in Merlin's saggy ballsack he was thinking. But before I even had the chance, the story broke in the Prophet. When I saw the picture- that's when I knew I was dealing with another quandary altogether."

"Safe to say you've had no luck getting through to him?"

"Not entirely. I've never seen him this deep in denial before. It's rather mystifying. The Draco I know goes after what he wants with no regard for the consequences- always has."

They shared a look that implied a mutual understanding of the complexity of the situation.

"So, what's next?" he asked. "We can't just let him sit around and destroy himself."

She nodded absently, watching as Draco carefully levitated their drinks across the crowded room. "We'll have to finish this later. He's coming." She looked up brightly, acknowledging him with a syrupy, "You're a doll," before humming her approval with the first sip of her cocktail.

Fortunately for Draco, the evening progressed without another mention of the object of his frustration between catching up on the whereabouts of former Hogwarts acquaintances and hearing with exhausting detail the reasons for Pansy's highly theatrical breakup.

As the conversation died down and the bar began to clear out for the night, Draco excused himself under the pretext of waking up early for Ministry business. Neither seemed to mind, as they were both caught up in a rather bizarre argument over whether the patchouli in Theo's cologne had a musky-sweet or spicy undercurrent. Draco bid his farewell, leaving the strained pair to duke it out in his absence.

No sooner had he arrived at the Manor had he begun to regret his decision. The additional time alone proved a detriment, as his attention turned to thoughts of the brunette and her date with the useless ponce, Cormac. The image alone had him thinking of other, more suitable names for him- "Bore-mac" being at the top of his very long list.

Against his better judgment, he wondered if they were still together delighting in the afterglow of a particularly heated snogging session. The notion caused his stomach to churn for no other reason than the fact that the tosser looked to be an abhorrent kisser. At least that was the rumor circulating in the Slytherin common room after Daphne Greengrass made the colossal mistake of getting pissed one night after a match and snogging him under the Quidditch stands. Regardless, as he lay in bed, eluding sleep, he resigned to the fact that Granger's love life was hardly relevant to him and therefore he would immediately cease thinking about her amorous evening with McLaggen. If only he had succeeded, he wouldn't have woken up the following morning looking worse for wear.