Bottom of the Bottle

Calm Before the Storm

The door slammed behind Harry as the glass vase shattered on the wall nearly missing his head. Marriage certainly wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Not just marriage in general though, marriage after kids. Ever since all three of the Potter children had left for school, home life was nothing short of a nightmare. And Harry had had his fair share of nightmares during school.

But it wasn’t like the rift between him and Ginny was sudden, they had their little spats over Harry working too much or him being to easy on the kids. But the new argument was over Harry’s drinking. So what that he liked to have a beer when he came home and a glass of wine with dinner. He was an Englishman through and through and she would just have to accept that.

Except, she didn’t accept that. In fact Ginny got quite angry when him and Ron would leave for the pub and come back a little tipsy. Well maybe tipsy was an understatement. But it’s not like he came home drunk every night just when the two men had a rough day in the Auror office.

“I need a drink,” he said to himself running his callused fingers over his lightening shaped scar and through his untidy black hair. I stepped away from the door that had just moments ago slammed in his face and began traipsing down the street towards the pub on the corner.

The Trolls Lagoon was a local wizards pub hidden in the muggle town by Ottery St. Catchpole.

“Oi, Mr. Potter,” Liam, the bartender said, “What’s the business today?”

“Just the usual pint today. Ron been in?” he asked seating himself at the bar his hand closing around the handle of the beer mug. He lifted the chilled mug to his lips, sipping his troubles away.

“Not today, I expect him soon though it’s getting to be that time,” Liam said glancing at the grandfather clock that was sitting in the corner of the bar, “However if you don’t mind me asking you’re here rather earlier. Matter o’ fact you don’t ever come in on Thursdays. Trouble’s with the missus?”

“You have no idea,” Harry said lifting his mug once more.

“Aye, you’ve got me on that one. Can’t keep a lass long enough to marry her. The trouble is they don’t think bartending is a husbands job,” Liam said with a wink.

“They never think anything is good enough, whether you’re the richest wizard around, or the poorest yob that walks the streets for a living,” said a man sitting at the end of the bar.

“Here, here,” Liam said tipping the glass he was cleaning towards the man, “Mr. Malfoy here knows his women.”

Though it had been years since they had been in school. Years since the final battle. Years since their hurried flight through the Room of Requirement. The hairs on his neck still prickled at the man that used to be the ferret faced little twit that used to be his enemy.

“Potter,” Malfoy said coming into the light tipping his head to him in an almost friendly manor.

“Malfoy,” Harry said returning the nod perhaps a little more curtly than he should of.

“Troubles at home?” Malfoy asked Harry moving more into the light and onto a stool two away from himself. Harry looked up at him incredulously and then back down at his empty beer mug that was magically refilling itself, “Cat got your tongue? Or is it more like She-Weasel.”

“No matter what you will watch your tongue,” Harry said his hand retreating into his cloak to palm his wand, “You will not address her in anyway or form,” he said with bite behind his words, “I also don’t see how it’s any business of yours abut my home life or anything that has to do with me or my family,” Harry said drinking from his mug once more.

“Now Mr. potter like I said Draco knows relationships,” Liam said winking knowingly in Malfoy’s direction.

Malfoy raised his hand in order to quiet Liam, “It’s obvious that Mr. Potter here has no need for my advice or anything of the sort,” Malfoy said just as arrogantly as ever, “If Mrs. Potter doesn’t want to have sex with him then we must assume that it’s his fault and not hers. That is assuming she inherited her mother’s libido. The Weasley elders have seven kids don’t they? Oh goodness my mistake six.”

It happened almost as quick as it did when he was at school. Before Malfoy was any the wiser he was pinned against the wall with Harry’s wand poking into his jugular, “Don’t ever address my family. Is that clear ferret-face,” Harry spat into Malfoy’s face his green eyes blazing with anger and hatred.

“So much anger. Have you still not forgotten our days at Hogwarts. The Boy—excuse me Man Who Lived can hold a grudge for how many years has it been?” Malfoy whispered.

“Mr. Potter, please don’t attack my customers. Especially the ones that pay as well as Mr. Malfoy does,” Liam said wrapping his arm around Harry’s chest and lightly tugging backwards so that Harry retreated to his bar stool, sat down, and cast a cooling charm on his beer mug.

Malfoy straightened his robes and raised his eyebrow at Harry, lifting a hand up to smooth back his white blond hair, that had with age, become more white than blonde, “I seem to have touched a nerve.” He took his seat once again and sipped at his beer acting nonchalant as if Harry had not just attacked him.

“Shove off Malfoy,” Harry said immaturely. As if it wasn’t enough that he had to spend seven years in school Draco also donated money to the ministry so they had to see each other every once in a while when Kingsley called an inter-department head meeting.

“Fine Potter, drink your sorrows away but if you ever need help,” Malfoy said rising out of his chair an conjuring a little piece of paper out of thin air, “You know where to find me. You’ve been to my château haven’t you?”

Draco Malfoy
Malfoy Manor